52 – The Garden
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John woke up under fine satin sheets in a comfortable mattress. After two weeks of sleeping on hard soil, the feeling was almost alien to him. His muscles were still sore from the long journey, but not as much as they had been the day before.

He sat up and took note of the room. The walls were the same brown colored stone that seemed to be used everywhere else in this city. They were smooth, but not as perfectly cut as the ones used at the city wall, with various crevices wherever the stones met. Given how easy it would be to plaster these spaces to make the walls more uniform, John wondered if they weren’t actually an aesthetic choice.

The ceiling was high, about two times John’s height, with no decorations.

Instead of torches on iron brackets, like at the old baron’s castle, the room had various white marbles indented at the walls. Lightstones they were called, and they could be infused with mana to make them light up, just like the ones that measured his magical affinities the previous day. Unlike them, however, these ones shined with more strength and for much longer, something he realized the hard way when he was trying to sleep, and they continued to shine. Even now, some of them were still working.

The floor was covered by a gray rug that extended to touch all four walls. In the wall across from the bed was the wooden door that led to the washroom and the privy. On the wall to the left was the door that led to the hallway and to the right was the balcony. Sunlight peeked into the room through tiny gaps between the balcony door and its frame.

There was also a wardrobe, a mostly empty bookcase near the bed, and a tea table with three chairs where he, Hagen, and Athalia sat yesterday. This was obviously one of the guest rooms which is why it felt so comfortable. Adding the balcony and the washroom, it probably was as big as the old cottage.

His mother wouldn’t have liked it; not the place itself, but the fact that there were so many people stronger than her so close by.

Back in Greenflower, the only Paladin in town was the old baron. From what she would tell him, the old man had the strength of a Crusader at best, as she discovered after saving his life during a hunt. Although cultivation could delay it, the effects of time were relentless. With time, even a Paladin will eventually age to become as weak and frail as a child.

Like her, John certainly would rather not have so many strong people nearby, but circumstances forced him to stay.

John stood up from the bed and walked to the wardrobe. He forgot to take off the clothes before going to bed, so now they were all wrinkled. Back at the old cottage, he wouldn’t have cared about it, but in here he’d have to try and look presentable.

He chose a pair of brown trousers practically identical to the ones he had before, along with a blue tunic. He still couldn’t find any footwear though. He could try the boots he came with but, besides being dirty, their high shaft made them better suited to wear with breeches, not trousers. So much for looking presentable.

He looked through the bookcase next. Most of it stood empty, with only three books to be found by the lowest shelf. The first one chronicled the history of some noble house John never heard of. The first page already gave a reason for that: they were extinguished after attempting a rebellion against the king two centuries before John was even born.

The next book delved into important battles through history, and it sounded much more interesting than a dead noble house from centuries ago. But it was the last book that picked his attention. It detailed various rules of etiquette and what was expected from people according to their social standing. It seemed to be the most boring of the three and yet, at the same time, it was knowledge that he had use for, considering where he found himself.

He pulled out the book and sat on the bed when there was a knock on the door.

“John, are you awake?” Athalia’s voice sounded from the other side.

Even without reading the book, he knew that it would be bad form to leave her waiting, so he placed the book back and strode towards the door.

“Good morning,” she greeted him with a smile as soon as he opened the door. “Did you sleep well?”

“Very much. I never knew beds could be so comfortable.”

Athalia beamed up. “That's great. I told Meredy to pick a good room for you. Do you want to go for a walk? I want to show you the rest of the castle.”

“Sure, but there's a problem.” He looked down at his exposed feet over the carpet.

“Oh yeah, and yesterday you were also barefoot. I'll ask Meredy to bring shoes to your room. For now, though, don't worry about it. No one will dare to talk about it with me by your side.”

John shrugged and followed her. Out in the hallway, the stone floor felt cold against his soles. The hallway was mostly empty, with only oa few servants walking around.

They went down a flight of stairs guarded by pairs of spearmen both at the top and bottom, and John was surprised by the contrast. While the floor above was mostly empty, this one had maids and other servants going back and forth. Most of them carried trays of food for the guests, but some also carried clothes to be washed.

“We’re hosting a lot of important guests these last few days, so things have been more hectic than usual. Right now, Hagen is discussing with those currently here. He’ll likely be busy for the rest of the day.”

John got curious about that. He wondered if it had anything to do with the tensions with the neighboring Earl, so he decided to probe about it. “How long has it been like this?”

“Two months I’d say. It’s all because of that horrible Rass Skanler,” she said with a frown that she quickly tried to hide. “But let’s not talk about these unpleasantries. Come, I want to show you the rest of the castle.”

They descended to the base floor and came to a wide hallway. Heading to the right would lead to the throne room and the entrance. John, Bella, and Nevil passed by it while being escorted by the guards yesterday. Most of the servants were moving to and fro the left side, which probably led to the kitchen.

Thankfully, that was the first stop at Athalia’s tour of the castle. The place was chaotic, to say the least. Cooks in white aprons milled about, rushing to get the meals ready. Maids formed a line by the door, waiting for the meals they had to deliver.

Athalia asked John to wait by the side where he wouldn't get in anyone's way. She then picked up a tray and moved into the kitchen, weaving through the place and picking up food as she went, all with such grace and fluidity that it amazed John. By the way that the staff continued working despite her moving around them, John realized that it wasn’t her first time doing such a thing.

She returned to him with a food-stacked tray. John saw strips of bacon, crispy toasts, cubes of cheese, juicy sausages, and much more. It was like she wanted him to have a piece of everything on the menu. She had to know that was too much; even so, Athalia left again after handing John the food, this time in search of as many sweets as she could find.

“That’s a lot of food,” John commented after she returned. Hopefully, she wouldn’t leave again to grab even more.

Athalia pinched his cheek. “Of course, you need to eat a lot to keep growing healthy and strong.”

Being treated like a child still annoyed him somewhat, but John didn’t try to argue. He instead focused on filling his empty stomach. It all looked delicious, much better than anything he could cook himself. Even something as simple as a strip of bacon tasted unimaginably good.

Next, they left through the kitchen’s back door and into the grassy courtyard. They walked towards the castle walls until finally reaching a small stone building by the wall’s foot. Immediately beyond the threshold, a single white and golden carpet ran towards an altar at the back. The carpet was flanked by two pairs of wooden pews. Large windows of stained glass occupied most of the side walls.

Painted on the back wall, behind the altar, was a featureless woman wearing a simple white dress. In front of her chest, she held a golden sunburst similar to the one hanging from Athalia’s neck. The place was no doubt one of worship.

“Do you know of Alella?” Athalia asked.

“Only the name,” John answered. He had heard the name being uttered every once in a while in town, mostly by farmers. Back on Earth, he and his brother grew up in a catholic orphanage, but he was never one to care for religion.

After reincarnating though, he didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, the experience disproved everything he thought he knew about life and death, and it was something that science was unable to explain.

On the other hand, meeting God — no, a god — somehow felt… earthly. It didn’t feel like a transcendent experience. Somehow, by having confirmation of their existence, the idea of gods felt less divine to him.

After living in this new world where magic was commonplace, he knew very well why. By his side stood a woman with maybe as much muscle mass as he, a child, had, yet she was capable of moving faster than a cheetah and probably of breaking rocks with her bare hands. Not only that, but she could also instantly heal wounds using water while others had fire and lighting at their fingertips.

All of this should be impossible back on Earth. Not in this world though. In this world, all of that was possible thanks to mana and thanks to cultivation. The more you cultivate, the more mana you can use, and the stronger you are. This begged the question: How far can one cultivate? Far enough to become a god? What if the gods were all just people who cultivated to reach that point?

John lost more than a few nights of sleep on these questions. He never managed to come up with an answer. So instead, he chose to focus on the fact that none of these gods and their religions had a problem with him; well, only the Holy Flame, but thankfully they didn’t seem to hold any power around these parts. Better to focus on real-life rather than something that’s unlikely to ever affect him again.

“Alella is the goddess that I, and many more follow. She is the goddess of harvest, childbirth, and healing. I built this shrine is Her honor. Here, let me show you.” Athalia first settled the two trays of food on one of the pews before guiding John to the altar near the back wall. The altar, a short white pillar, reached up to John’s chest. Atop of it, there was a piece of white marble in the shape of a long bone with an end thicker than the other.

Its shape looked somewhat familiar to John, but he couldn’t point out exactly what it was.

“Alella created all life. First, the plants, which she used to create The Garden. The plants were followed by the animals. When both were done, it came time for her greatest creation: us humans...”

The whole story felt way too familiar to the one about the Garden of Eden, with some minor differences. For example, there was the goddess Alella instead of God. Instead of Adam and Eve, there was Rolan and Thalia. And instead of creating the first woman from a rib, Alella used Rolan’s baculum, and John finally realized what that bone on the altar was.

His mother didn’t teach him only how to hunt, but also how to make use of the animals' parts. This involved a lot of breaking the prey apart with the least amount of damage to the fur, meat, tendons, and bones. The baculum in particular was exclusive to male animals as it connected to the base of the penis or, as Athalia called it, the “male organ.”

At first, John considered the whole idea ridiculous. He only held off from laughing in respect to Athalia, who seemed to believe it wholeheartedly. But the more he thought about it, the less ridiculous it sounded.

Sure, John still believed none of it, but the whole idea could be attributed to humans trying to come up with answers to something that they couldn’t explain. It started making sense when seen from this point of view; ancient humans in this world noticed the baculum on animals and the lack of it on themselves, so they came up with a religious reason for it. John could understand that.

Besides, of all religious beliefs he knew about, this one wouldn’t even top the list of weirdest ones.

“That’s interesting,” John commented. “Did you come here to pray then?”

Athalia shook her head lightly. “Not today. I pray to Alella every night, usually by the bed before going to sleep. Here, I only come at times of most need.” She looked straight at John. “Mourning for example. I found out that it’s never good to keep such things to oneself. Even the strongest person can’t be strong all the time.”

John finally understood why she brought him here. “Thanks, and I do mean for everything. Thanks for not chasing me away, thanks for taking me in, and thanks for just caring.” He looked away. “It does hurt when I think about her death… but my mother wouldn’t want me to waste time grieving. She would want me to focus on cultivating to get stronger and push everything else to the back of my mind.”

“That sounds harsh.”

“She certainly was.” John forced out a wry smile. “One time when we were out hunting, I didn’t pay attention and a jumping adder bit me right in the thigh. She made me walk all the way back to find the town healer. It took me two hours. By the end of it, my leg was so swollen that I had to cut open my breeches to take it off, and I was dragging my leg so much that it couldn’t even be called a limp anymore.”

The smile faded away as he pursed his lips. “But I knew that was her way of showing how much she cared. Call it tough love if you will. My mother wanted to make sure that I was capable of surviving on my own. If not for her harsh training to make me stronger, I probably would’ve died long before meeting you. And if she hadn’t been strong herself, then she may have died even further back. We can’t afford to be weak. Not now, not ever.”

Athalia remained silent for an uncomfortably long time before sighing. John wasn’t sure of what he saw in her eyes. Sadness? Concern? Pity? “That isn’t a healthy way to live,” she finally spoke.

John shrugged. “It’s the only way I know.”

“... very well.” She walked away from the altar and towards the entrance. “Come, it’s time to meet the knight you’ll be squiring to.”

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