Love Letter From The Future

It was only after a considerable amount of time had passed that Emma’s father was finally calmed down.

Since the Lady Virgin Saint was absent, Reto and I filled him in on the general situation. With each word we uttered, Emma’s father crumbled helplessly.

The idea that a human could fall apart like that, wearing a shattered expression as if he would never recover and sinking to the ground…

It was something beyond imagination and difficult to endure. In the end, Reto and I had to avoid his gaze, our faces filled with anguish.

Even though he was just staring blankly at the floor.

He couldn’t even enter the Intensive Care Room. It was due to hygiene issues.

Commoners couldn’t maintain cleanliness like nobles. It required money even to wash and clean oneself, so it wasn’t acceptable to just bring someone in when they were dripping with filth.

Thus, he couldn’t even see his daughter’s face. He could only hope that the high priests were doing their utmost to heal her.

They were beings that commoners could usually hardly see. Emma’s father couldn’t let go of his last thread of hope, thinking they were avatars of the Heavenly Deity Arus.

It was only possible because she had entered the Academy.

In less than a day, a courier went to inform him that Emma was in critical condition, and he was able to arrive at the Academy swiftly using an expensive Warp Gate.

However, that was all the Academy could provide. The matter of life and death could only be overseen by the Heavenly Deity.

Emma’s father lamented, reciting memories of his daughter. That was all he could do.

“Emma was exceptional from a young age… She didn’t seem like a child born from a foolish man like me.”

That must have been why she could get into the Academy. Reto and I could only emit faint sounds, unable to say anything.

I felt like a criminal. As the Lady Virgin Saint said, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but the feelings of those involved were a separate matter.

At the very least, I felt responsible for Emma’s injury. There was no way around it.

I was the only one who could have stopped her in the end.

Despite my troubled heart, Emma’s father continued his lamentation.

“I lost my wife to a wolf while she followed me to gather herbs in her youth. Yet, despite growing up without her mother, Emma was so bright and polite. Especially, she had such a good memory for the characteristics of herbs… When I had her learn to read, she grasped it in no time.”

“…She was a good daughter.”

Enduring the heavy silence became unbearable, and Reto chimed in.

It was something anyone could say in empathy, but the farmer’s eyes turned red. He nodded vigorously.

“Yes, indeed. She was a good daughter. Since then, I’ve done everything to cover her tuition. It was hard, but seeing her master such difficult subjects without anyone to teach her made me so proud. Then one day, she suddenly got accepted into the Academy.”

Ultimately, the farmer burst into tears. Though he was a ruggedly hairy middle-aged man, in front of the death of his cherished daughter, he was but a child weeping.

Choking sobs, sounds he could hardly release, flowed out like moans. My head instinctively lowered.

I fumbled with the potion in my pocket. Emma’s last inheritance.

It had surely been made for her father. The thought of that long, solid texture pressing against my palm filled me with anguish.

“If only I had known it would turn out this way, I would have just raised her as a simple herb gatherer… Sniff… If I hadn’t been such a foolish father, with my greed…”

“Father.”

Before his sorrowful cries continued, I gently called out to him.

His tear-filled eyes turned to me. Silently, I took the potion from my pocket and placed it in his pot-like hand.

Unable to find the words at first, I finally thought I should convey what I had to say, managing to speak.

“Emma bragged to me yesterday. She said she developed a potion that conceals presence… While I don’t know the principles, creating a new potion is a remarkable achievement for an alchemist.”

The herb gatherer looked down at the potion without a word. It seemed he couldn’t even fathom how much dedication and effort was wrapped in that small vial.

I conveyed Emma’s last words to him, hoping it wouldn’t be her final gift to her father.

“With this potion, herb gatherers and hunters can prevent many deaths and injuries… Please accept it, Father.”

Tears welled up in the farmer’s eyes again. The man’s tears dripped down. Yet, despite this, he shook his head in refusal.

He offered the potion back to me. Seeing the bewilderment on my face, Emma’s father spoke.

“Please use it, young master… This simple man no longer cares whether he lives or dies.”

No matter what, how could that be? I was about to protest when I met his gaze and felt a lump form in my throat.

He was sincere. Despair and pain were embedded in his subdued eyes like shattered glass fragments.

“Young master, please, use it… Remember Emma, huff, my daughter… This inadequate man will not forget his daughter for a lifetime… Sniff…”

Once his cries broke free, the farmer continued to weep for a long time.

Until he fainted, collapsed, and was moved to his lodging.

I blankly put the potion back in my pocket.

I felt dizzy. It felt as if there was a lump in my chest.

Reto, after a moment of silence, spoke.

“…Ian, it’s about time we should go back.”

There was no response. My mouth was simply sealed tight.

A sigh escaped Reto.

“How many hours has it been? Just sitting here won’t bring Emma back… Let’s go back, grab some food, and rest. We have our own lives to live.”

And Celin would be worried as well, but no matter what he added, it barely registered.

I only thought about the letter. The one I had crumpled and tossed aside.

Suddenly, a thought struck me like lightning.

It was then that a faint voice slipped from my sealed lips.

“…The letter.”

“Uh?”

Reto looked at me, narrowing his eyebrows as if to ask what I was talking about. I mumbled, lost in thought, ignoring even that.

“In seven years into the future, a letter arrived.”

Reto’s expression hardened further. He began to scrutinize my face intently. Yet, I couldn’t stop speaking.

“It said I was there, that Emma was attacked by a monster and fell into a coma… If only I had informed Emma, or rather, if I had just escorted her instead?”

“…Ian.”

Reto’s voice dropped heavily. It was serious, showing he was deeply concerned. But I suddenly stood up.

And started to clumsily string together my thoughts. Regret and guilt.

It was suffocating. I shook my head like a drenched dog shaking off water.

“If that had happened, I could have saved Emma. No, maybe she wouldn’t have even been hurt! If I had just been a little more careful…!”

“Ian!”

Ultimately, Reto couldn’t hold himself back any longer and shouted. I snapped back to my senses and stared blankly at him.

Reto walked over, placing a hand on my shoulder. He exhaled a sigh, speaking softly.

“Please, let’s go rest… You look really worn out.”

That was probably true; to others, I probably sounded insane.

It was understandable. But even so, the words at the end of that letter remained vivid in my heart.

‘If the future is not protected, the world will perish.’

What if those words were true?

No, the idea of the world perishing felt too abstract for me to grasp, so I didn’t really care.

What mattered was if victims like Emma continued to appear.

I stood up as if possessed, starting to walk. My staggered steps soon turned into a sprint. I heard Reto shouting behind me, but I ignored it.

It was the path back to the lodging. I spotted Celin in the distance.

She waved her hand cheerfully, only to look puzzled when she saw my unusual expression.

I grabbed Celin by the shoulder. Her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue.

“Why, why is this happening…?”

“Celin.”

Her eyes widened at my gasping, rough voice. Soon after, her expression turned serious.

I was more earnest than I had ever been. Celin realized that too.

“A letter arrived from the future, huff… a letter that says Emma gets hurt…”

“Ian oppa.”

As she called my name softly, our eyes met.

Celin’s gaze was filled with disbelief. It was a look that seemed to face a perplexing riddle.

“Are you perhaps drunk?”

Hearing that, I let out a “ha” and laughed.

Celin’s suspicion was warranted. I would have thought the same. Yet my instincts, along with the strange experiences I had around the dream, insisted otherwise.

It was not something to dismiss as mere childish games.

So, I left the two people I could trust the most and ran again.

To the lodging. I took out a bottle of whiskey I had stored in the cupboard and poured it into a glass. The sharp smell of alcohol pierced my nose and invaded my brain.

I didn’t care. I downed the liquor in the glass. The strong drink burned down my throat and stomach.

Then, staggering, I knocked over the trash bin.

It had already been two weeks since that day. However, since I rarely stayed at the lodging, I doubt the trash had been emptied.

A heap of various paper waste spilled out. I instead wished that my experience that day had been merely a delusion under the influence of alcohol.

But when I saw a luxurious piece of letter paper, crumpled and messy, I couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh. I quickly unfolded the crumpled letter.

‘To. My beloved, Ian Fercurus’

With that opening line, there was a flood of content continuing on. Within that torrent of information, I found the phrase I so longed for.

‘When I think about it, that year’s Hunting Festival was particularly rife with incidents. It all started when Emma from the alchemy department was found unconscious after being attacked by a mysterious monster while collecting materials.’

There it was. Just as I had seen it.

The realization that Emma was attacked by a monster while gathering materials was now a fulfilled prophecy.

Staggering as I walked, my eyes scanned the letter once more.

I read each line as if to engrave them into my mind, leaning against the desk while downing the glass repeatedly.

It was a love letter from the future.

I still had no idea why it had arrived at my hands. All I knew was what I needed to do.

If the future was not saved, the world would perish?

To be honest, that idea felt too abstract to grasp, but fine.

I would follow along just for a bit.

I still didn’t know if this letter was truly from the future or just someone’s prank.

But I resolved to at least give it a chance, carefully folding the letter and placing it back in my pocket.

And I thought. I understood the rest of the content, but there was just one thing. A name whose identity I couldn’t fathom.

‘From. Thinking of you tonight, from Sephia.’

Who on earth was ‘Sephia’?

As the night deepened with the alcohol, a new task emerged for me.

I needed to find ‘Sephia’ and connect with her.

It was the beginning of a romance to save the world.

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