CHAPTER 47: WARDROBE CHANGE?

’How bizarre.’

As Noctis moved to the back of the room, he noticed a passageway leading to the back of the temple.

Passing through it, he entered a space, much much smaller than the hall, around the size of what could be called a normal room. One that fits the needs of a normal human.

It was, however, mostly empty besides one bookshelf on the right and a crude bed made of mud and clay in the middle.

It seemed like a jail cell more than a room intended to house someone, say like someone who kept the temple running, a priest of some kind.

’Must be a hermit.’

Nevertheless the hermit itself was also missing, in line with the temple norms, and so he moved to check the bookshelves.

He saw a few books here and there, either caked with dust or almost on the verge of decaying into dust, but holding on, with resolved tenacity, seemingly waiting for a passing patron to inherit their wisdom.

As Noctis opened the books with extreme caution and prudence, he looked at the pages... and almost dropped it.

’Why did I think I would understand it anyway?’

The contents of the book was in the same script as the runes at the temple.

Looking through some other books, although he found some that featured other languages, there was none that he could read.

In the first place he could only read one language of this world, not to mention his very limited vocabulary which likely meant he had a long way to go before reading any kind of technical books, his hope was doomed from the start.

"I’m sorry books. You have to wait for another traveler to grant them your business."

Noctis faintly spoke as he put the books back carefully. It was a pity.

He was very curious about knowledge regarding this world. Any kind of knowledge.

It had been almost half a decade since he had come to this world, but all he knew till now was really only his mother’s name.

Rest, he had stumbled on himself, conjuring names for it as he went, no way to look it up for even basic knowledge.

Heck, he didn’t even know the name of the forest and the village surrounding his place of living.

It resurfaced an uncomfortable feeling in him. Of the confinement he had experienced before.

Isolation, in his previous life, was every bit intentional by his captors, a means to control the life of the inmates, from the knowledge they had of the world to the very ideas they could germinate.

They controlled every aspect of it, even erased the bits that went against their intended notion of identity envisaged for the inmates.

Throughout his time hunting in the forest, he explored and relished in the joy of being able to run around and mess around as he liked.

He did not have, for the most part, a sword hanging on his head waiting for his failure to use it as an excuse to mold him into a category, fit in line of their choosing.

He enjoyed and relished in the joy. If this were his way to go at the end of his life, he likely wouldn’t object.

But he couldn’t rest easy with just that. He couldn’t let feeling take over his logic just yet.

Not when he knew the entity looming in his head, not with the frequent quagmires he constantly found himself in.

He couldn’t afford a sedentary life, abstaining from any kind of activity. He couldn’t betray this second chance granted upon him.

He wanted to explore. He wanted to learn.

And for that he needed to know about the machinations of this world. He needed to know more than what he knew now.

Noctis took a deep breath before moving to the side of the shelf.

Putting his hands on the sides, he started pushing the shelf side-ways slowly and carefully.

As the shelf moved, a secret passageway appeared on the wall. It led to another, even smaller room.

Just as he entered the room his focus was entirely captured by the centerpiece glinting in the moonlight.

A pure white cloak made of the highest quality materials, shimmering in the silver moon, laid hung in the middle of the room like a spectre that led the souls to the after world.

Standing still, Noctis scanned every part of the room from one corner to another, and then the white cloak, but nothing came up.

It made him hesitate a little more however as his instinct kept telling him there was something about the cloak.

It wasn’t a warning for danger, as far as he could tell, but he couldn’t be sure. He had been fooled before.

Averting his eyes from the cloak, he looked at other things in the room.

Besides the centerpiece only a few items were placed miscellaneously around the small room, not discarded, they still looked pristine and of high quality, just not with the same attention.. or reverence? as the cloak.

Moving towards the corners he found a multitude of objects of a common theme. That is clothing gear.

A high laced brown boots with earthy green runes inscribed on it. It was lined with soft fur inside and a sole lined with fat layers and inner membranes.

A silk tunic and a sleeveless leather jerkin in dark, matte colour, a leather belt along with a leather strap attached to a belt quiver.

A tapered legging of deep charcoal leather reinforced with overlapping patches around the knees and shins, stitched with spiral motifs incorporating various symbols.

A pair of gloves and shin guard made of hardened leather and linen and wool strapping underneath.

In another corner he could find a back quiver with a multitude of arrows.

Noctis looked at the shining hunting gear tailor made for an archer strewn across the room, some on the floor, some dangling by the wall, and then at the tattered clothes hanging on his body.

His clothes were durable, not as comfortable as he liked but they had held on so far.

It had sufficed till now, but with more and more events, it was barely hanging on their life by now.

’It seems a wardrobe change is a must now, is it not? It’s a necessity at this point!’