Liberi Reader

He's forgotten some of the finer details of what he did that night.

Perhaps he danced a merry jig from his hometown by the bonfire? Or perhaps he grabbed some unlucky fellow to sing some folk songs of Kjerag with?

Ah, that's right. He seemed to have spent a good amount of time discussing the finer points of Kjerag veterinary techniques with a guard rail.

How did he get to this point?

Alas, nobody knows.

At the very least, he remembered the way back to his bed.

However, the distance between the banquet and the barracks is no short stroll.

First, he had to follow along the lakeside path until it joined with the main street at the center of town. Along the road, he would run into many elderly folk taking a post-meal walk, and see children playing atop the ice.

From here, he could see the distant statue of Kjeragandr, and all along the road there were viewing stations set up just for gazing upon it. They were bustling places filled with people at all times. Some prayed towards Kjeragandr, while others took selfies.

There are times when two diametrically opposed ways of life will clash, but most times they will coexist in some sort of harmony. Such was the way of many things in this land.

Continuing on, he passed through the main street, which got busier by the day. He distinctly remembered noticing that some of the stores that were there when he first arrived in Kjerag had changed ownership.

In a small alley close to the center of the road, there was the latest restaurant that he had fallen in love with.

This restaurant had managed to meld together the flavors of Victoria and Kjerag together into their dishes, and suffice it to say that he was a big fan.

The restaurant was run by a young couple, the wife a Kjerag native who had learnt the culinary arts in Victoria, meeting her spouse in the process.

The two of them started a family, returning to Kjerag to set up their restaurant, hoping that they would be able to have a better life in this flourishing land.

After the alley, he had to cross a highway still under construction, then a patch of woods, before arriving at the hillside where he could look out over the whole land, where a roaring fireplace awaited him.

At the moment when he stepped over the edge of the road onto the soft soil, he became quite aware of just how much further this nation had to go to be considered 'well-developed'.

But walking through the tranquil woods immediately put a stop to that line of thinking.

Though he often jabbers away with other old men whenever they meet, lately he finds himself thinking back to the time of his youth.

The golden wheat fields rustling in the evening breeze, his younger self running about within as though he were without a care in the world—

Yes, without a single care in the world.

As he walked across the icy ground, as he found himself cloaked in snowy silence, one thought came to the forefront of his mind. He was no longer young.