Aaron's Side Story Chapter 24: The First Dream (8)
* * *
In a person's life,
Ten years is not a short time.
Humans can change in just a day.
That’s a hundred or a thousand times more.
The flow of time wears everything down.
Before coming here,
Aaron thought he would never forget the gaze of the man named Belkist, who had defeated him.
But that was an illusion.
Whoosh!
The spear flies.
Crash!
The scarecrow shakes violently from the impact.
He never missed a single day.
Now, no matter the situation, he could thrust with his eyes closed.
Aaron emptied his thoughts and pierced countless holes in the scarecrow.
“......”
Everyday life flows monotonously.
He practices from morning until bedtime.
Just before sleeping, he writes in his diary to find his memories.
However, there’s something added to that.
‘My name is Aaron Delcut.’
When he thrusts the spear mindlessly,
When he entrusts himself to the flow of time,
There are moments when he suddenly forgets who he is.
At those times, the feelings from that time become faint.
The events from that time are hard to recall.
‘Brother.’
He can hardly remember the man’s face.
The benefactor who made him who he is now.
Yet, he gradually falls into oblivion.
‘Miss Jenna.’
The girl who always smiled brightly.
Unbeknownst to him, she had a deep heart.
She always thought about her comrades and comforted Aaron.
‘Miss Eolka.’
She was a sorceress.
At a glance, she seemed arrogant and self-centered, but that was a misconception.
He knew she subtly cared for her comrades.
There were many others.
Aaron formed many connections in the lobby of Taonier.
But those countless connections gradually submerged.
What he can recall now are only a few relationships that were particularly deep.
He doesn’t remember the others well.
‘I must not forget.’
How long did he spend there?
It wouldn’t even be one-tenth compared to here.
Yet it was there that Aaron met a turning point in his life.
‘I must remember.’
His comrades.
And his family waiting at home.
His only younger sister, Nina.
Recovering memories is as important as that.
Thus, Aaron decided to write a letter with different content.
[My name is Aaron Delcut.]
[I have a purpose for becoming strong.]
To not forget.
To not be swept away by the flow of time.
[To repay my brother's grace.]
[To help my comrades.]
[To meet Nina.]
[I must become strong and return.]
He wrote.
And wrote again.
[Don't forget.]
[Remember.]
[I have.]
[A reason to become strong.]
* * *
Ten years have passed.
The time spent here totals twenty years.
Gradually, Aaron became unsure about everything.
* * *
Another ten years.
He has now reached his thirtieth year.
Only then did Aaron gain certainty.
It’s absurd that it took him thirty years to realize such a simple fact.
“Was it not possible?”
Aaron muttered.
He looked ahead.
Scarecrows that had turned into rags here and there.
“How about it, Sragin? Can I do it?”
“......”
“Tell me honestly. I’ve made up my mind.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sragin, who had been watching from behind, did not respond.
He only left his apology.
That was enough of an answer.
“Indeed.”
Aaron smiled.
It could be seen as a refreshing smile in a way.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Don’t give up. There’s still time left. My judgment might be wrong.”
“Haha, your judgment has never been wrong.”
They had spent thirty years together.
The feelings of suspicion and wariness they had when they first met melted away like snow.
In a way, the man he couldn’t even remember when they met, his brother, felt less familiar than Sragin, who had become several times more intimate and familiar.
‘Sragin judged.’
Aaron lowered his eyes.
What he had just said, “I’m sorry,” was a declaration of deep friendship.
There could not be a lie.
‘It was invisible to me.’
Here, there’s a blind man whose eyes have been damaged since birth.
How can one explain the beauty of a flower to him?
Letting him touch it, letting him smell it, and telling him with words might make him understand somehow.
But what of the color ‘red’?
In the blind man's world, the concept of color does not exist.
Color has no shape or scent.
No matter how much one explains red,
The blind man can never truly know what that red is.
Not ever.
There is only one way.
To open his eyes.
He cannot realize it without seeing it himself.
In such a martial world,
Aaron was blind.
‘If I realize my strength, I can move on to the next stage.’
The foundation and core of the spear, Rannachal.
Of course, there are stages beyond that as well.
He knew that theoretically.
He had long since read through countless martial arts books in the library.
He could recite them from beginning to end.
But without knowing the color, he couldn’t put it into practice.
What good is it to teach a wingless creature how to fly?
‘Was it not possible?’
Aaron realized that fact.
There were limits to effort.
* * *
Another ten years.
Aaron reached his fortieth year.
[Don’t forget.]
[Remember.]
[I have.]
[A reason to become strong.]
He writes it down on paper.
Aaron has written thousands, tens of thousands of letters with the same content.
The piled-up papers couldn’t fit in the room.
He gathered them behind the cabin and burned them.
He cannot know.
He could not understand at all.
‘The reason I must become strong?’
He cannot grow stronger.
If there’s a reason to become strong,
What should he do?
[To repay my brother's grace.]
[To help my comrades.]
Repaying his brother's grace.
Helping his comrades.
‘But I don’t remember well.’
Why must I become strong for people whose names I don’t even know?
That’s only natural.
He has spent over forty years here.
But that place, the lobby of Taonier, was less than a year?
Must he sacrifice decades and hundreds of years for a mere one year of connection?
Why must it be so?
The calculations don’t add up, do they?
He could understand Sragin.
He has built a relationship with him over forty years.
Sragin never once denied Aaron's efforts to become strong.
He always worked hard alongside him and helped him.
Objectively, he understands.
The man he calls his brother worked hard for him and did not shy away from danger.
He knows he must repay him for that help.
However, the feelings from that time are hard to recall.
‘It’s becoming strange.’
His thought circuits seem to be misfiring.
There are no particular stimuli here.
He wakes up at the same time, thrusts and swings the spear for the same duration, writes the same letters and diaries for the same length of time, and sleeps for the same duration.
An endless repetition of an unchanging daily life.
There’s no change to it.
No matter how much he thrusts the spear, he doesn’t progress.
No matter how many letters he writes, the forgotten memories do not return.
No matter where he goes, a plain stretches out.
No matter how much time passes, night does not come.
Forever.
And onward.
Continuously.
His head...
It’s becoming strange.
* * *
Fifty years have passed.
Memories from outside this place have become as vague as an out-of-season dream.
[Remember.]
[I have.]
[A reason to become strong.]
When he writes such words habitually, only the remnants that remain reveal themselves.
It’s nothing but a regret of “It was like that back then.”
What maintains Aaron’s current self is a habit that has continued for a long time.
He repeats a set routine like a machine.
This alone supported Aaron's ego.
* * *
Sixty years have passed.
Only then did changes occur in his gear-like daily life.
It had been about thirty years since he realized he could never progress in his life.
He thrusts the spear all day but gains nothing.
He wants to recover his memories, but the blank spaces remain unfilled.
The time that follows was meaningless to Aaron.
But it’s different for those with talent.
While Aaron wasted opportunities on something utterly useless, a genius finished preparing to soar into the sky.
Sixty years of honing himself.
The duck that had been waddling without flying finally stood on the cliff, spreading its large wings.
“Ha. The door has finally opened.”
The boy scratched the back of his head.
Behind him stood Sragin and Aaron side by side.
This place was the training ground behind the cabin.
To be precise,
It was a spacious area connected to the training ground's back path.
There were no fences or scarecrows here.
Aaron wondered why they had carved out a back path in such a place.
He learned the reason only now.
“Were you waiting? I came to pick you up.”
The boy turned around and smiled mischievously.
Before the two of them lay a wide dimensional gate.
The two sensed where this dimensional gate was connected.
Niflheim.
“It took sixty years, but don’t complain. You all know, right? The flow of time is different. Even if you ask to be taken out as soon as you arrive, the door back home won’t open until decades later.”
The boy knew the two had come here and immediately requested an exit.
That request only reached the outside after sixty years.
“Still, you learned a lot here, didn’t you?”
The boy looked at the two.
Aaron merely stood silently.
The one who replied was the man beside him.
“Thanks to you, Master.”
The man bowed respectfully to the boy.
Just sixty years ago, he had held a knife to the boy's throat, claiming he was unworthy.
“Huh? I haven’t taught you anything.”
“No. Thanks to you, I realized patience, humility, and composure. If it weren’t for this place, if you hadn’t been there, I would have lived a life like a rogue, not realizing anything.”
Outside, there are heroes who know Sragin.
If they saw this scene, they would never think it was the same person.
They would assume someone had used magic or trickery to transform.
But this is the truth.
Time changes everything.
Sixty years is enough to alter a man's nature.
“Why are you being so sentimental? Don’t paint your face with gold. Does it feel bad?”
“No matter what anyone says, it’s an undeniable fact. I will never forget this grace.”
“Yeah, yeah. At least you’re taking something away, so that’s a relief.”
Sragin bowed his head to the boy.
He had changed.
There had been more than enough time.
Training, thinking, struggling, meditating.
Sragin was able to realize many things while doing what he would never have done outside.
Only he can explain exactly what those things were.
Objectively speaking,
He succeeded in surpassing the upper level of martial arts and reaching a higher realm.
He has gone from being a reckless young man who relied solely on his talent to a master who hones himself.
He would be able to do many things he couldn’t do before.
But there is no uneasy feeling of mocking others, showing off his talent, or belittling others.
Over the sixty years, he realized composure.
“Are you leaving...?”
Aaron said to his friend.
If he disappeared, Aaron would be left alone here.
The boy comes and goes unpredictably.
There were many instances when he never appeared for ten years.
“Yeah.”
Sragin answered shortly.
“There’s nothing more to learn here.”
“You’ve learned a lot during this time, right? If you spend more time, you’ll reach an even higher level…”
“No.”
Aaron's disappointment was cut off in an instant.
“The learning here is over. Training without experience is half-baked. You need to go outside to learn more.”
Aaron closed his eyes.
He knew this moment would come someday.
While he was left behind, his friend had moved forward steadily.
“Perhaps.”
Aaron muttered.
He opened his eyes and smiled.
“Congratulations on your graduation.”
“Graduation? This is just the beginning.”
It’s not the end just because one can fly in the sky.
One must see it as starting from there.
Finally, now, the bird is about to take flight from the edge of the cliff.
Sragin walks toward the door.
Aaron silently watched his back.
“......”
One more step forward, and he would be outside.
Just before that, Sragin stopped.
“Aaron.”
Sragin turned back.
He then locked eyes with Aaron and said.
“Let’s go.”
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