We continue to walk, stopping a few times as I keep tripping on the various small roots spread across the dirt. This body is a little difficult to control since unlike my old body it works well.

Before that bad lobster killed me I was just another ordinary old white man. I was short, I could barely walk due to back pains, and what I could eat was limited, but now my body feels fine. There is no delay in my movements, my arms and legs move the way I want but it's a tad difficult to get used to.

[Old Man: You aren't from this world are you?]

The old man looks at me with a strange smile, a small green shine flashing in the hole on his chest. I remember when otherworld Oliver was young he would always talk about fairies and how they hate liars and bad people so I respond honestly since I don't want this old man to attack me like that freak of a woman.

[Richard: I'm not, I guess Oliver brought me here.]

The old man stops moving for a second, resuming our walk after giving me a strange look.

[Old Man: Can you tell me how?]

[Richard: I'm sorry I have no idea how he did it. If you want other information then I'm willing to trade for a little knowledge on my son.]

[Old Man: Fine. Tell me what was life like in your world.]

Something is strange about the old man's words. For some reason, I feel compelled to tell him everything. In a moment of weakness, I open up.

[Richard: It depends. For me it was terrible. I inherited my parent's bad habits and that lead me to make the same mistakes, losing my wife and son worsening my depression.]

My head hurts. It hurts so much. I want to stop talking but I can't. I need to open up, I need to tell this old man everything.

[Richard: My dad would hit me and my mom a lot. She ended up divorcing him when I was three and for a while, it felt like I had a normal parent but when I turned eleven I started to look like my dad and my grandma died so my mom started doing drugs.]

I want to stop talking. It hurts. Everything hurts so much. I don't want to remember but I can't shut up.

[Richard: She started hitting me with shoes, both flat bottoms and heels as well as belts and iron coat hangers until I was sitting against the door with my face covered, my arms filled with painful bruises as I cried, begging her to stop.]

Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up.

[Richard: When I couldn't take it anymore when I was bleeding and in pain I hit her. She wouldn't stop no matter how much I begged so I hit her and screamed at her. She got scared and said I'm just like my dad. I look the same and I act the same, that all I can do is hit and hit and hit.]

I don't want to remember! Please stop, please! Everything hurts! Everything hurts so much...so...so...much

[Richard: It was in self-defense. I was only twelve. I was scared. After that, I began to hate myself more and more and more as my mom continued to hit me while on drugs. I ran away when I turned seventeen and got married when I turned twenty-five having a kid a year after. I never hit them, but I was short-tempered. I would scream, I would get annoyed at things I shouldn't.]

...no...no...no...no

[Richard: Now because of my stubborn attitude, short temper, and inability to handle stress or trust the people I love fully I lost my son and wife. I became a teacher but I lost interest. Everything I loved I lost interest in. There is no hope for me. I am trash but maybe I can help someone. Maybe I can help one person be someone better than me and then when I can play a positive role in someone's life I can die before I ruin it.]

I want to continue talking but at the same time, I don't. Everything hurts so much. Where am I? Why is my body like this? Can I really help anybody? Why did Oliver love me enough to bring me here?

Suddenly everything goes quiet as I fall forward, the pain in my head disappearing, being replaced by a numbing emptiness.

[Richard: I'm sorry.]

I don't know who I'm saying it to. I don't why I'm apologizing. I just feel I have too.

[Old Man: I am very sorry. If you wish I can simply send you away after giving you a gift.]

[Richard: ...I don't care...I don't care...just please...please tell me about Oliver.]

My voice is so weak. I wonder if he heard me? I really hope he heard me.

[Old Man: ...Oliver was a kind man. He is known by many as the benevolent madness as even when acting as ambassador he would have an old-looking wooden doll resting on his head, speaking to it, referring to it as his father."

Of course, something bad happened because of me. Because of me, he was known as a crazy old man with a doll sitting on his head...do for others as you did for me? What do I do?

[Old Man: He loved that doll he would go nowhere without it. If anyone insulted it he would attack them, If anyone else touched it they would receive a brutal beating yet despite these actions he was the kindest man on the planet. He brought about a new system that aimed to give the people the power and life they deserve, abandoning the idea of inherited aristocracy. He created wooden golems capable of housing the souls of the dead or living, giving many something similar to eternal life, and he truly cared for his people. His reason for all this, and this is according to him, is to make his father, the wooden doll that always sits on his head happy."

He did all that for me? Of course, I'm happy. I would be happy with you no matter what so why put in so much effort to please me?

[Old Man: You can find a few of his journals in the magic city of Lumina.]

[Richard: Please take me there!]

I don't know but I have to go. I have to know why he loved me.

[Old Man: I'm sorry but that's not possible. When exiting this forest you will enter a country made up of mostly desert called Calaiba, If you walk and avoid all combat zones you should arrive within two years.]

[Richard: Okay then. Come on let me go!]

[Old Man: Are you sure? It will be very dangerous. Your body is weak and currently many countries are at war with each other over resources. There is a very good chance that you will die before you can even begin your quest.]

[Richard: I'm sure!]

[Old Man: No hesitation. Okay then but first take some of my sap. Go to a tree or find wood and any damage to your body will be healed.]

Resting on the cold dirt I look at the old man, trying my hardest to express the gratefulness I currently feel but my lack of a face makes that a tad bit difficult. He smiles at me, moving to me and pulling the stone in the hole on his chest out slightly, grabbing some of the sap on it and spreading it on my head.

[Old Man: Will you be okay?]

I'm thankful for the information and while I may be a little annoyed I was forced to remember I am worried about him. I just had a moment of weakness, everything hurts for a bit then the bad goes away but it looks like that stone is his heart so I don't know if he'll be fine.

[Old Man: As long as this forest exists so will I now go my child.]

The old man walks away from me, mist wrapping around him, filling the area around me. Slowly it gets thicker, slowly the world around me becomes a pure white.

As the fog begins to lift and color begins to return I feel something I haven't felt in a long time. I think everything will be alright. This is a new world, I have a new body, I have a goal in life, and despite the fact that I missed so much of my son's life, they loved me.

As the air begins to heat and light begins to shine I remember the last conversation I had with my son before cancer took him.

[Son: Hey dad do you love me?]

[Richard: Of course I do.]

[Son: You're fine with me being gay?]

[Richard: Of course I am.]

[Son: Then why did you never reach out after I left?]

[Richard: ...Son...I'm sorry...I wanted to talk but I didn't know what to say. I spent one day thinking about what to say, then two and before I knew it years passed. Son, I'm so so so sorry If I had just been brave. If I had just called you once I'm sure everything would be fine but I'm an idiot and I messed everything up.]

[Son: ...Dad..I'm tired...I'm going to sleep but can I tell you something first?]

[Richard: Fire away.]

[Son: I love you.]

Suddenly I find myself in a large dessert, orange sand stretching as far as the eye can see. Remembering my son's hollowed cheeks a pale skin my chest begins to hurt. Remembering his last words everything begins to hurt.

[Richard: I promise I will never let anyone down ever again.]

I will help orphans and adults alike. I will make up for what I did no matter how much it hurts.

And so my journey begins. I travel to discover more about my son, swearing to help as many as I can along the way.

[Richard: I promise.]