“G… Good day, Young mas—Sir!”

  “Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up."

  As morning arrived, Izzy controlled Arnold to greet Erin, their new tenant.

  The girl was uneducated and clearly unfamiliar with noble etiquette, but she had offered to clean the mansion in exchange for staying here. Izzy didn’t reject her choice.

  Afterward, they discovered something troublesome. Their opposite-gender vessels were reacting to each other.

  “Izzy…”

  “No.”

  “Oke… x<”

  Izzy decided that it was best to keep their opposite genders’ vessels away from each other. As long as they were separated, nothing would go wrong. There was no need to complicate matters further.

  Controlling Arnold, Izzy made him stand up and brushed the dust off his coat.

  ‘Don’t think of doing anything weird.’

  ‘There’s no privacy here…’ Isa puffed her mouth.

  ‘Tch.’

  Izzy knew her young mind would try something eventually, but that was not her problem!

  ‘At least don’t do anything in front of our main body.’

  There was a brief silence before Isa replied meekly.

  ‘…oke ;<’

  Izzy turned Arnold toward the door and left Isa behind.

  As Arnold, he wrapped a bandage around his head, hiding his burn marks and stood in front of the mansion’s gate. The white bandage covered his head, concealed his features, made him look like someone recovering from a head injury.

  He, together with a bird perched on his shoulder, and a mouse tucked in his coat, walked outside of the mansion’s grounds.

  The forest greeted him with damp air and sticky earth. Green stretched endlessly in every direction.

  Sunlight spilled through gaps in the foliage above, breaking into thin beams that cut through the canopy. Dust motes and pollen drifted lazily within those rays, illuminating the forest floor in fleeting patterns.

  Mud clung to his boots, and the constant hum of insects filled the space. The humid weather didn't help; it made his body’s sweat linger.

  Yet as Arnold walked further, he felt something had changed.

  In his eyes, the trees no longer looked like trees. Pine and oak trunks rose like rotting pillars, their bark darkened and swollen. Their surfaces contorted into faint shapes of faces. Some seemed to cry. Others looked like they were laughing, eyes bulging from the wood, mouths split wide in agony.

  The air carried the scent of something metallic and stale. His boot broke the wet snap of a twig. Dry leaves skittered across the ground, their brittle sound unnaturally loud.

  The path ahead, trees crowded closer on either side, their trunks marked with strange, circular patterns, looked like rows of unblinking eyes watching. Fog crept through the undergrowth like a pale breath, turning distant trees into towering silhouettes.

  In the faraway distance where light did not pass, the shadows stretched and distorted, bending and twisting into shapes that refused to settle.

  ‘What?’ Arnold raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

  The vision in his eyes returned to normal, the green forest. It was just a forest, this much was normal.

  The faces were just knots in the wood, the eyes just patterns in the bark.

  Did his mind play tricks on him?

  ‘What happened to me…’ It was just his imagination.

  As he moved a certain distance from the mansion, a sudden wave of dizziness assaulted him.

  “!”

  His knee buckled, and he dropped to one knee, one hand braced against the ground. After a moment, the sensation faded. He stood again, brushing dirt from his trousers and coat.

  ‘Some kind of power hides the mansion.’

  Arnold continued forward. After a while, he heard a broken branch noise from behind. A branch snapping.

  His hand immediately slid beneath his coat, finding the handle of the hidden knife. He gazed toward the source of the sound cautiously.

  “Who’s there?”

  A figure stepped out from the shadow of a tree.

  The man walked with calm composure. There was no sign of hurry or hostility in his gait. His features slowly emerged into Arnold’s view.

  The man looked utterly ordinary; there was nothing that stood out. He wore a well-tailored black suit, buttoned neatly from chest to waist, with silver thread trimming along the cuffs and lapels. A tailcoat was draped over his suit, matched with a white bowtie.

  He looked like any refined gentleman in this era. He must be a wealthy person simply exploring the world.

  The man removed his top hat with a courteous gesture, revealing clean blond hair neatly parted down the middle.

  He bowed with flawless posture, politely smiling at Arnold.

  “Good day, sir. I’m a traveler who just arrived here. Do you happen to know the way to the nearest village?” the self-proclaimed traveler asked in a friendly tone.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I also don’t know the direction,” Arnold replied.

  The traveler looked at him, a hint of puzzlement in his eyes.

  His gaze lingered on Arnold before his polite smile returned. “That’s unfortunate.”

  He dusted off his coat with his gloved hand and soon bowed again.

  “Allow me to introduce myself. The name is Mister Gentle. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  Arnold relaxed his grip on the hidden knife and considered the name for a moment.

  ‘Mister Gentle? What a strange name.’

  Arnold only nodded. He didn’t answer back, just waited for the other party to speak again.

  “I don’t see your master around here. May I ask where she might be?”

  ‘Master?’ Arnold frowned.

  “I don’t have a master.”

  Gentle’s pleasant smile lingered, however, something was off about his smile.

  The curve of his lips stayed the same, but his expression shifted subtly. He smiled, but then frowned. Then he smiled again, and frowned, only until he unbuttoned his cuff and raised his gloved hand to cover his mouth.

  “Forgive my rudeness for asking this question, but…”

  The sunlight rose into the canopy, casting him into deep shadow.

  Arnold widened his eyes. Somehow, he had an odd sensation… it was a feeling, like he had never expected him to say anything like this.

  He had half expected an apology, perhaps a change of subject…

  ‘What is this feeling?’

  Arnold tilted his head, before forcing his attention back to the traveler.

  “What is it, sir?”

  Gentle studied Arnold carefully. He raised a finger to his temple and asked.

  “Have we had this conversation before?”

  ‘Huh?’

  *Thump. Thump.*

  Arnold’s heart pounded loudly in his chest.

  “...”

  He searched his memory.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Yet no matter how he thought about it, he had never met this man before… then why…?

  “Ah, My apologies," Gentle said after a pause, dipping his head politely. “It seems I mistook you for someone else..”

  ‘w…what?’

  Arnold swallowed his saliva. He slowly nodded.

  “That’s… alright. It happens,”

  The traveler chuckled. He lifted his arm, gesturing toward the winding dirt path leading deeper into the woods.

  “If you don’t mind, I could help guide you toward the village,” he offered kindly.

  ‘...?’ Arnold's thought stopped for a second. His tension slowly dissipated.

  Hadn’t this self-proclaimed traveler just said he didn’t know the way?

  Arnold shook his head.

  ‘Maybe I misheard it.’

  “Sure, that's very kind of you.” He answered Gentle cautiously, trying not to sound so offensive.

  “Then, shall we?”

  Gentle’s smile deepened as he turned and walked down the narrow path.

  Arnold cautiously followed a few steps behind. The forest canopy swayed gently above them, scattering mottled shadows across the trail.

  After what felt like half an hour of walking in silence through the gaps in the branches, Arnold could make out vague plumes of chimney smoke.

  The self-proclaimed traveler slowed his pace and turned slightly, pointing toward the open clearing ahead.

  “The village is over there.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Arnold exhaled, easing his tension. He offered a small bow of gratitude.

  Gentle inclined his head in return. “Please have a good day, Mister Arnold.”

  Arnold nodded and walked in the man’s pointed direction.

  Before he got too far, Gentle’s voice rang out. “Oh, one more thing.”

  His pleasant voice made Arnold pause mid-step and glance back.

  Gent raised his hand and pointed toward the opposite direction: the invisible mansion’s direction.

  “Please do not wander around the forest again,” he said. “There is nothing there.”

  Arnold tilted his head in puzzlement, but still bowed to him politely.

  “Thank you for the reminder, sir. Have a good day.”

  ‘What a weirdo,’ he thought, shaking his head as he continued down the dirt road without looking back.

  Once Arnold’s figure was out of his sight, the blond-haired traveler’s smile faded.

  He buttoned his cuff again and walked toward the tree’s shadow.

  —

  In the village, they met Mary, the flower girl. She introduced all sorts of flowers to him, their names, their meanings, which ones bloomed in which season—

  “Stop, stop"

  It was only when Arnold proposed paying her to guide him around the village that she finally stopped rambling about flowers.

  “This is Winterin Village, sir,” Mary said as she walked ahead, gesturing broadly with one hand. “As you might know, our village reveres the Moon Maiden. Our Maiden personally escorted and protected Her Majesty when she was attacked by the vile beast. In return, Her Majesty gifted our Maiden her power, within which was her will to protect children and maidens alike.”

  As they spoke, they passed through the village square. The open space was lively and warm, filled with the sound of laughter and music.

  Young boys and girls danced together in loose circles, their steps clumsy but joyful. Older villagers stood nearby, chatting or clapping along, while merchants shouted prices from their stalls.

  “There it is, the Moon Maiden statue over there. Do you see it? She’s so beautiful!” Mary exclaimed, pointing eagerly.

  The statue was located at the heart of the village. She was wearing an exquisite robe, engraved with the moon and star pattern.

  In one hand, she held a staff, with its head resembling a balanced scale, and another hand raised toward the sky.

  Arnold frowned.

  ‘Why does it look like…the scale tilted slightly to one side?’

  “That’s the posture she took when she fought the vile beast! The vile beast in the dark forest!” Mary continued excitedly. “How cool she is!”

  ‘The vile beast.’ Arnold thought for a moment.

  He linked it to the mural in the basement and nodded.

  As Mary led him through the village, she continued introducing people with casual familiarity.

  There was the lice Ella, known for her constant scratching and sharp tongue. Opal, the single mother who often sleepwalked and was known for her scary stories to keep children out at night.

  Shepherd Ben, who always smelled of wool and grass, and his son, Bennet. Polly’s baking house, and Otto the weird old man who sold magical herbs.

  They came into the church, and Arnold became a student.

  Father Victor was a good man, he had readily accepted him.

  ‘Shitty priest, I will take it back later.’ Izzy made a mental note.

  They walked into Madam’s estate grounds, and ran as soon as Arnold realized something was amiss.

  As soon as he parted ways with Mary, he encountered the thugs and beat them up.

  Throughout the journey, there was nothing that stimulated Izzy.

  She dealt with each situation calmly, as if she had done it many times before.

  ‘Hmm?’

  Although there were some dangers in Madam's estate, it did not really surprise her much.

  Isa was so bored she had retreated somewhere in their mindscape, leaving Izzy alone to control Arnold.

  ‘What is Isa doing, anyway?’

  —

  In one corner of the amusement park, Isa was fiddling with something while raising her arms and dancing in circles.

  Izzy could see colored cubes appear out of thin air, following her instructions and flowing in that direction.

  Isa was building a play center, next to an unfinished playhouse.

  The unfinished playhouse looked like a child’s dream. It was a small house made from mismatched blocks, shaped somewhere between a dollhouse and a fairytale cottage.

  Compared to it, the play center Isa was building now was taller and more complex.

  The blocks were brighter, arranged in more various structures, like looping slides, spiral stairs, climbing frames, and suspended platforms.

  Tubes twisted through the air, Ramps curved upward, supported by glowing pillars. It looked less like a playhouse and more like a fortress, as colorful flags fluttered at the top of tall towers.

  ‘Unfinished again… Why does this girl never finish one project at a time?’ Izzy thought, suppressing a sigh.

  It was always the same. Isa would start something with enthusiasm, get halfway through, and then abandon it for the next shiny idea.

  Izzy floated closer. Isa was so focused she didn’t even notice her.

  The girl giggled, spinning around with her hair bouncing, then clapped in delight when a new wall appeared exactly where she wanted it.

  Her green eyes sparkled with excitement.

  Izzy shook her head. Maybe she really did need to reprimand her young mind for this.

  A mischievous thought sparked in her mind.

  With a bit of mischief, Izzy sneaked behind Isa, waiting for the perfect moment.

  “WAHH!”

  “Hi, Izzy.”

  ‘Huh?’

  Contrary to her expectations, Isa merely glanced over her shoulder, giggled softly, and returned to her building.

  There was no trace of surprise on her face, no indication that Izzy’s prank had worked at all.

  “Uh, yeah, hi… what are you doing?”

  Feeling awkward that her prank had failed, Izzy cleared her throat and changed the subject.

  “I’m building a play center for fun!”

  Izzy knitted her brows.

  “Then you should finish your unfinished project first before moving on to another, Isa.”

  “Yes?”

  The young mind looked up at her, head tilted slightly. Her green eyes shimmering as they caught the ambient light of the mindscape.

  “Yes, you should—”

  ‘Hmm?’

  Izzy frowned.

  Green eyes?

  Green?

  Green?

  “Hold on.”

  Izzy reached out and grabbed Isa’s face, focusing entirely on her features, especially her eyes.

  They were one in the first place, so she did not think it was weird for her to look at herself.

  The color was wrong.

  Had it changed? Or was it always like this, but Izzy had never noticed it before?

  Seeing a difference like this had not been on Izzy’s to-do list.

  “I… Izzy!!!”

  Isa stammered, startled but not resisting.

  Her face was delicate and beautiful, exactly as Izzy expected. Her skin was smooth, her lips were plump and pretty, and…

  ‘No, no, focus.’

  She focused solely on Isa’s eyes.

  They were green, a jade green color, unmistakably different from her own, or, to be more precise, very different from “Isidora's.”

  “What is my eye’s color?”

  “...it… blue…”

  As expected, Izzy had a different color than this girl. Her eyes were always blue, navy blue, like the color of the ocean.

  Why was it?

  Was it because of them separating themselves into two? And deciding to keep their space private?

  Had their minds diverged so much that they were developing different physical characteristics even in this mental space?

  This was their mindscape. Their appearance here could be a reflection of their inner selves. It could be that, or something else.

  “...I…Izzy?”

  ‘Mmm?’

  Izzy was holding the young mind’s face. Her fingers were still pressed against her cheeks, her palms cupping the younger mind’s chin.

  She had been staring at her for a long time.

  But why was Isa's face so red?

  The green eyes vibrated, her cheeks flushed. It was as if…

  ‘...’

  This made Izzy feel… strange.

  She immediately released her young mind’s face.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No…’

  The young mind held her cheeks for a moment, before she turned away, resumed her work.

  But there was one thing different.

  ‘...’

  ‘...’

  *Silence.*

  ‘Ugh, this is awkward.’

  The blocks continued to appear and stack themselves, but Isa didn’t giggle anymore.

  She worked in silence, her movements stiff and a bit clumsy.

  ‘What a blunder,’ Izzy thought. She hoped she hadn't upset the girl, intruding on her personal space like that.

  She glanced at Isa for a brief moment, before deciding to leave her alone.

  ‘Let’s think about it later’ she thought.

  Next week I'm gonna be very busy.

  I'm planning to increase 10$ tier to 15 chapters ahead. Also, for each paid patron, I'm gonna release a new chapter. This change will apply by the end of next week.

  Maybe even delete 6$ tier, but I will see how it goes.

  For the one who just joined paid patron, I am indebted to you; I'll pay you your chapter back when my busy week end.