The morning sun was already rising on the horizon, marking the beginning of the fourth day of Ethan's caravan journey. Since feeding the villagers had taken more time than expected, they had slept in Villagemar. The village smelled of wet wood and smoke from the fires the guards had lit the night before. Ethan was already up, feeling the urgent need for movement. He had barely slept, his head buzzing with the injustice of that world.

  As the caravan prepared to leave, Ethan called Garnold and a group of guards for a brief sparring session behind the main shed. The guards were eager but respectful.

  Ethan positioned himself, his body lean but dense with muscle. He seemed a little too focused; the truth was, the stress was making him nervous.

  "In my world, this is more than a sport," Ethan gasped, dodging a training sword strike that one of the guards attempted. "It's a science of anatomy. Force is waste; precision is what matters."

  He moved with enviable speed and positioned himself close to his opponent, leaving him with his guard down. With a quick levering strike, he forced the guard to drop the sword. He turned to Garnold, who watched impressed.

  "Your swords are powerful, Commander," Ethan said, his breathing controlled. "But sometimes the best weapon is your own body."

  He demonstrated the technique: a feigned punch, followed by an ascending elbow strike that stopped inches from the chin of the guard facing him. The soldier backed away and ended up tripping over himself, falling to the ground, his eyes wide. Ethan smiled and gently patted his shoulder, comforting him.

  "Speed, Dexterity, strength, and precision. You must always work on your fundamentals," Ethan added, smiling. The young guard thanked him for the training and withdrew.

  "Impressive, Lord Martins. Your fighting style... is indeed surprisingly effective. But I'm not sure if it could really be used on a battlefield," Garnold said, trying to regain control.

  Ethan rolled his eyes without really paying attention to his comment. Of course, he would say something like that. Ethan began to stretch to relax his body after the exercise, and that's when he noticed the other guards. One of them was using a sphere of hot air to quickly dry his cloak, which was wet from the night's mist.

  Another was using his hand to warm a bowl of soup that had gotten cold.

  "Helena was right," Ethan muttered. "Simple, but useful magic."

  He walked up to one of the guards, observing the slightly red hand heating the bowl.

  "Can you do that with any object? What is the energy source? Is the heat generated by Mana friction?"

  The guard blinked, confused by the terms.

  At that moment, Larry approached, impeccably dressed, ignoring the sweat and the smell of combat. He had waited for the moment when Ethan was sweaty and off-guard to appear.

  "Lord Martins, you are wasting precious time with these childish questions," Larry interrupted, with a condescending smile. Presumptuously, he made a hand gesture that caused the guard who was there to retreat, which annoyed Ethan somewhat.

  "I saw your 'art of punches'," Larry continued, gesturing disdainfully. "It's useful for commoners and bandits. But I believe that for someone of your social status, magic and swordsmanship are more appropriate."

  Larry stepped forward, adopting a teacher's posture.

  "If you are bored, I can give you the first lessons. They are simple, really. Nothing that requires complex intellectual aptitude. Just Concentration and Will, as I believe your servants explained to you."

  Ethan was speechless for a moment, then he laughed as if he had heard a good joke from an old friend, which left Larry somewhat confused. Ethan took a deep breath and looked seriously at Larry.

  "Complex intellectual aptitude, Duke?" Ethan questioned, his voice low and dangerously calm. "Do you think I'm some kind of idiot?"

  Larry frowned, not understanding the question. "No, Lord Martins. I just meant that basic magic is instinctive, unlike your... physical exercise. It doesn't require the kind of study that the Sages do. It's something anyone can pick up quickly. Don't be offended. It's just the basics."

  "Not be offended?" Ethan sighed again and gathered his fighting wraps, trying to ignore Larry's words. "How would you feel if I called you primitive? It's easy to look smart like you when education is denied to those who weren’t born with a silver spoon. I wonder if you would still look so noble if you weren't surrounded by the less fortunate."

  Larry felt a pang of anger hit him as Ethan delivered his little speech without even looking at him, too busy rolling up his wraps to put them in the pockets of his tunic.

  "Certainly, if you have such aptitudes from your world, then you will have no trouble following my lessons! Unless, of course, the education in your world is not as high as you say," Larry provoked back with a slight smile on his face.

  Ethan looked at him incredulously and bored. "And now you think I'm some child you can manipulate with childish taunts. You can keep your lessons to yourself. I will learn Mana my own way." Ethan started to walk and passed Larry without paying him any attention. "And you can be sure that when I understand how it really works, your magic will look like parlor tricks."

  Ethan continued on and entered his carriage, followed by Peter and Helena. The two servants were tense. Ethan paid no attention to them, his head troubled by everything around him. Valorn was simply too much for his mind.

  Larry's arrogance, the miserable lives of the villagers, even the way others treated him bothered him. I mean, they were respectful—with the exception of Larry, perhaps—but the way they feared him made him uncomfortable. One of the things that confused Ethan the most was Larry's behavior. At one moment, he seemed completely respectful and even afraid of making him nervous, but then suddenly he would say the most absurd things in the world to him. Is it possible that their cultures were so distinct?

  "My Lord, I beg your pardon," Peter said, drawing Ethan's attention. Both Peter and Helena were staring at the floor with their bodies slightly bowed. "Stopping in the village of Villagemar was my idea, and because of that, your lordship disagreed with the Duke."

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  Ethan gave them a disbelieving look. Were they serious? Larry being an jerk who doesn't know how to choose his words when talking to others was not their fault at all.

  "Peter, Helena, you don't need to apologize. It was nothing, and besides, it was good that we stopped at Villagemar. I think I have a little more idea of what I'm dealing with now." He said, looking at the village as the guards finished getting ready to leave. "My world was far from perfect, but yours... is much worse than I thought life could be."

  A silence fell in the carriage as Peter and Helena exchanged worried glances. Ethan seemed melancholic, staring at the poor village. Finally, when the carriages started moving and making noise again, Ethan could see one of the children from the village waving at him with a smile on their face. He knew he hadn't done much, nothing more than his duty, but seeing that smile warmed his heart, making him calm down a little. With a tired sigh, he settled back in the carriage seat and closed his eyes.

  "I don't think I've ever missed home so much."

  After what seemed like four, perhaps five hours, the landscape around them began to change. The trees were less and less present. The ground, previously green with tall grass, now had brown tones as the earth took on a more rocky appearance. Peter, seeing the opportunity to strike up a conversation and perhaps please Ethan a little, began to speak:

  "We are halfway there, My Lord," he said with a nervous smile. "These are the Treacherous Mountains. It means we have left the eastern part of the kingdom. This is the limit of Lord Marnov's lands."

  "Treacherous, you say?" Ethan replied, observing the brown mountains. They certainly didn't look inviting. In the distance, some rain clouds could be seen moving slowly; they would surely pass through them at some point in the mountain.

  "There's no reason to be apprehensive, Lord Martins!" Helena said, peeling some apples. "Lord Larry has traced the best possible route through these mountains. I am sure we will get through without major problems!"

  Ethan watched as she offered him the apples. It felt strange to receive things from her in this manner; they barely knew each other! That's when an idea passed through his head.

  "Helena, Peter," he called, seeing the two look at him promptly.

  "Yes, My Lord," they replied together.

  "Why do you do this? I mean, why do you serve Larry? Who are you? I honestly feel uncomfortable with you doing so much for me when I barely know you!"

  And again, the culture shock was present. Ethan's words made no sense to Peter and Helena. They were servants, there only to ensure his comfort, nothing more than that. Was he dissatisfied with their efficiency?

  "My Lord, I don't know if I understand what your lordship meant. Are you dissatisfied with our services?" Peter asked with a hint of anxiety in his voice. Helena covered her mouth with her right hand in surprise. What had she done wrong?

  "No! It's not that!" Ethan quickly replied. "Oh, damn, how am I going to explain this?"

  Another uncomfortable silence settled in the carriage—they had had quite a few of those, hadn't they? Ethan was thinking of a way to explain how personal relationships happened in his world without confusing them. The sound of the carriage swaying filled his thoughts persistently. Ugh, how he missed his medication. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the two young people in front of him and began to explain.

  "Where I come from, the monarchy does not exist. We don't have kings, nobles, commoners, or anything like that." Peter and Helena paid attention, somewhat incredulous. "Everyone is equal before the law, so we don't have things like personal messengers or maids, at least not in the way you have here."

  "If there is no king, who governs the kingdom? Is it perhaps like the council of elders of the elves?" Peter asked, intrigued. "How can there be no difference between nobles and commoners?"

  "My Lord, if there are no maids in your world, who cleans the masters' houses? Who does the housework?" It was Helena's turn to ask.

  Ethan was having an internal crisis trying to answer these questions.

  "Well, some people work as domestic housekeepers, but normally, everyone cleans their own homes. They are usually only hired by those who don't have time to do it themselves or have enough money to get rid of that kind of inconvenience," he replied, starting with Helena's question. Then he looked at Peter. "We don't have kingdoms; we have countries. They are governed mostly by presidents. Presidents are public servants, working for the people to keep the country in good condition. They are constantly replaced by the will of the people, meaning every certain period of time, the people choose a new president."

  "My Lord, how can the people choose their ruler? Don't rulers come from a noble line? How can they be qualified to reign? Are they trained from an early age? Is there a selection process?"

  "No, My Lord, maids are also only for noble families. Commoners clean their own houses too. Isn't it the same thing?"

  Ethan didn't know how to answer these questions; they made good points after all.

  "Well.... I, no, but what matters now is that normally people don't do what you are doing for me, unless they were good friends or relatives, perhaps. It's very strange for me to receive this kind of treatment from someone I don't know well!"

  "I think I understand, My Lord," Peter said with his characteristic smile. "Your lordship wants to know our origins! To know where we came from until we became your personal servants."

  "Well... that's almost it, I think..." Ethan whispered to himself.

  "Oh, I see," Helena said, looking at Peter. She seemed apprehensive.

  "Allow me to start!"

  Peter adjusted his vest and straightened his posture, putting his best smile on his face.

  "Peter Bernet! I am the fourth son of Marquis Bernet! my family owns some lands near the royal capital and is known for our excellent market management! In addition to several services to other noble families!" He showed a stamp he used on all his letters, a type of family symbol with a 4 inscribed on it, indicating that he belonged to the fourth child. "We are the most competent when it comes to assistance! This is so true that my eldest brother, the family's firstborn, serves the royal family directly!"

  Ethan was actually somewhat impressed by Peter's words. I mean, not everyone can boast that their family serves kings and queens, right? Even so, there was a hint of disappointment in his gaze. That wasn't what he wanted to hear.

  "As for me, My Lord," Helena said shyly, "I-I am the second daughter of Lord Morton. The Morton family are baronets and own land in the south of the kingdom. It is known for its high capacity in textile production. My older brother, the firstborn, is helping Lord Kenilton Morton manage the lands, and my other siblings serve in the army while I was trained from an early age to be a maid for noble families like Lord Larry."

  The way she spoke about her family was strange, almost as if she wasn't really part of the family. Honestly, this made Ethan somewhat uncomfortable. That girl didn't seem to be very different in age from him, and yet she was saying she had been trained since she was young to be a servant? Wasn't she a noble? How could that make sense?

  "I-I may not look like much, b-but I promise to serve you with all my strength, Sir Ethan! I guarantee I am very diligent and well-trained!" she added, somewhat worried.

  She was probably trying to affirm her competence, afraid of being dismissed. The truth is that Ethan's worried expression had upset her; she had the false impression that he didn't like having a simple baronete's daughter as a servant.

  "It's really impressive that both of you come from noble families," Ethan replied, somewhat disconcerted. He himself wasn't much. "But that wasn't exactly what I was asking."

  And once again, the two young nobles were confused. They had introduced themselves, hadn't they?

  "You told me what you do and what your family is, but what I really wanted to know is... who are you? What do you like? What do you not like? What do you aspire to? Things like that, you know?" Ethan explained, seeing his two companions become even more confused.

  "My Lord, forgive me, but wasn't that what we just did?" Peter asked uncertainly.

  "Okay, this might be a little more complicated than I thought, but I swear that by the end of this trip, I will know at least the basics about both of you!" Ethan said happily and took his notebook from his tunic pocket. "Let's start with the simplest! What are your ages?"

  Peter didn't quite know how this could be relevant. After all, if he was serving Larry—a Duke—that should be proof enough of his competence. But if this would make him more comfortable, then it was his duty to answer his questions... right?

  "Well, My Lord..." Peter began, while Helena looked at him expectantly. The sound of the carriage wheels on the gravel road and the foreboding rain in the mountains created the perfect soundtrack for the start of that strange and unexpected interview.