Efel was never anything very remarkable, if I can put it that way. There was just scrubland, scrubland, and more scrubland, occasionally with a cute calf for you to pet on the head or a caravan of merchants wandering around wanting to trade with a bunch of poor people. Life was very slow, each day seemed to last an eternity, and everything ended when the sun disappeared into the night.

I never necessarily felt attached to this place, so much so that I didn't come back after the Duke dragged me to the Moonlight house. Most of my time was spent on beer and partying, so there's little I can complain about.

The carriage stopped at one of the village inns, or rather, the only one. It's a damn small place, there are some familiar faces I can remember, but it's not like everyone talks to me. On the small porch that separated the ground and the wooden floor, my eyes scanned the rest of the houses.

A single one, in particular, caught my attention, one with a hole in the roof and a moldy wooden door. It was more than obvious that it was a corner for beggars to live, or that it should have been rebuilt a long time ago for another resident to take advantage of, but no one had touched it.

That's where I lived before becoming a noble bastard. It's been many years, and it remains the way I remember it. Back then, the only clothes I had were whatever the other residents didn't want anymore, so much so that I learned to sew my own things to make the most of the fabric.

It was a fucked-up life, but no one was to blame for the situation.

"Hey, Darius!"

The person who greets me is none other than one of the few friends I had while living here, a dark-skinned guy with red hair who has gained so much muscle in recent years that it actually disgusts me.

"Don't even try, Joel."

I stretch my arm forward, preventing him from hugging me while he radiates that manly sweat. Joel is the innkeeper's son, he played with me when we were little, and we kept in touch until I famously ghosted him. Now he must be looking after his father's business.

"Come on, can't I even hug my brother?"

"My balls are your brother. I'd prefer a beautiful dark-skinned girl with curly hair to hug me than you, please."

"Hey, respect my wife, punk!"

"Hold on, Moema became your wife?!"

Moema was another friend in our group. Joel always tried to get her attention in any way possible, to the point where it became more and more obvious over time. I can't believe that son of a bitch pulled it off.

He laughs and scratches his nose with that smug look. I take the opportunity to punch him right in his unprotected stomach, just to watch him block it by grabbing my fist mid-way. The bastard finishes with a mischievous smile, one that says something along the lines of "I won at life," but I sincerely wish you had lost.

"Are you getting jealous, huh?" He sticks out his tongue, just to provoke me further. "Anyway, we got married last year. She accepted my proposal, and we're very happy together. Maybe we'll have a kid soon, and then my life will be complete!"

"With that small dick, I doubt it will work out."

"Huh? Did you turn gay after going to the capital to say things like that?"

"You—!"

Honestly, Joel has always irritated me to the core. Even trying to punch that idiot in the face, I fail at everything. I don't know what impresses me more, the fact that we're talking on equal terms with my social status being completely ignored, or that I simply can't get revenge.

After we almost beat each other up, Joel finally stops for a moment and rests his arms on the porch railing, looking out at the rest of Efel with me. A silence suddenly catches us, since the topic of conversation died there, but whatever, it's better than that blockhead's scratched-record voice.

"You never came back here after you left. I even understand why, but tell me... did you come today because of your mother's birthday?"

"Yeah, the date is close, and I never visited her again. I'll only have this chance."

"Got it."

Even without saying much, I think this idiot knows what I mean.

I let out a heavy sigh, leaning against a wooden beam that sits between the railings and taking advantage of the brief moment to enjoy that peace, until I finally muster the courage to punch his unprotected liver and feel the utmost satisfaction watching him double over in pain.

"You goddamn son of a bitch...!"

"I won't be long. Can you distract the people inside?"

"What? Sure, a guy like me can always distract beauties like them! The guy, not so much."

"It disgusts me that you say that when you're married."

"You have no moral ground to talk like that."

I shrug, he's more right than wrong. I walk down the short flight of stairs from the inn's porch, waving to Joel without even looking back, and so I walk between houses and few planted trees.

I don't pay attention to the path, it's ingrained in the back of my mind. I've walked this trail so many times that it's unforgettable.

I keep walking without thinking much, my body is on autopilot, until the trail narrows and becomes a dirt path that leads to the back of the village. There, between a pile of rocks and the taller brush, there is a tombstone, placed crookedly as if someone had rushed the job. It's nothing grand, just a medium-sized stone with an inscription somewhat blurred by scratches.

My hand feels heavy in my pocket, searching for some change, a leaf, anything that won't replace what I should have brought. I don't have flowers, of course. I didn't bring flowers. I was never good with ceremonies.

The inscription on the stone is almost illegible, but I can decipher it: Mia. The sun that broke through the clouds illuminates the stone in a sliver, and for a second, it seems like everything around me gets quieter.

I stop in front of it, hiding both hands in my pockets, unsure whether to kneel or just stand there like an idiot. I quickly give up the dramatic pose and lean down, sitting next to the crooked stone. I don't have a good memory to dwell on now, maybe just to comment.

I smile, slightly unintentionally, with that bitter smile we use to fool the rest of the world.

"Hi, Mom. I forgot the flowers, but I'll bring some next time... I don't think that'll be a problem, right?"

Silence answers me, just like every other time I've come here. The wind messes up my disheveled hair. I unbutton my collar to get some air amidst the heat.

"A lot has happened, you know? I've met a lot of pretty girls, just like you asked, and I've also gotten into a lot of trouble. Can you believe I stopped a revolution and saved the King's life? Or that a beautiful girl with black hair grabbed me like I was the most important thing in the world?"

She doesn't answer. How could she answer? In the end, I'm just talking to myself and hoping for a miracle for her to appear in front of me in spirit form and talk to me, but I know better than anyone that it won't happen.

I don't even realize time passing, my mouth blurts out every word about what happened in recent years, about how I went through tough times and always managed to escape. My life has been an adventure, and this would be the moment I wanted to show off to someone who only wanted what was best for me.

This part of Darius Moonlight is so problematic for me. Even though the "real me" never saw her face, "he" spent his entire childhood by the side of this incredible woman. If I'm a body thief or whatever, I don't care, it's just that we two are the same and share this kind of problem.

Mia, my mother on this side, died, and I'm here wishing she would listen to me just once after so long.

When I stop talking, my mouth seals shut. There are ants walking on the ground and that nature air that always makes me uncomfortable, but now, I feel nothing but a... melancholy. Yes, melancholy.

It's in these moments that it would have been much better to have reincarnated much younger than in an already grown adult body. I can enjoy the pleasures of this age, but the problems that have already passed will haunt me forever.

I stand up and brush the dirt off my butt. There's only one thing I can give that might be decent. I remove one of the buttons from my clothes, for me, it doesn't matter if they are destroyed or patched or not.

The little button is placed right in front of the tombstone.

"Sorry, this is what I have right now."

I try to force a cheeky smile, just because I'm being cheap and could come back here later to give you something better. Hah, I wanted to be a better person, Mom, but it's not like I have the courage to come back here every single time.

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