Logan was a lean man with a face that belied his age. His long hair was grey, as was his long beard, but there were hardly any wrinkles on his face.
He wore a long red priest's uniform that covered most of his body, paired with black leather boots and an old vintage watch.
When Logan looked at Isaac, surprise crossed his face, quickly turning into joy.
"Isaac!" he said, rushing towards him. "You are back!"
"Grandpa?"
Isaac responded as Logan hugged him tightly.
"It is so good to see you!" Logan let out a heartfelt laugh. "I knew our goddess would not abandon us."
Isaac groaned, prompting the old man to let go of him. Logan patted his back and said, "Go! Get her blessing."
Isaac stepped forward, partly to get away from the energetic old man.
Though as he moved, his gaze shifted inward toward the statue of the goddess.
He wasn't sure how accurate the statue was to the real being. The goddess had a flawless face with long hair touching her knees. She was holding a tree encapsulated in a sphere.
Isaac had memories of the previous Isaac praying to her, and he tried to mimic the same posture.
First, he lit a candle and placed it to the side, then clasped his hands and lowered his head.
"Hmm?"
Isaac fidgeted slightly as he felt something stir inside him like something resisting him, pushing back against the act of prayer.
'What's that?'
He didn't give it much thought as he turned around and walked back to Rhea and Logan.
Logan smiled and patted his back once again. "You have grown a lot."
Isaac had no reply, so all he could do was smile slightly.
A small knock on the door made them all look towards it. Two young elves stood there, watching.
The girl, who looked to be about fourteen, was the first to move, rushing towards Rhea.
'Hmm, they both look kind of similar.'
Rhea hugged the girl gently and asked, "Do you remember her, Isaac?"
Isaac searched through his memories until a name surfaced, a young girl who had been like a little sister to the previous Isaac.
"Is she Maia?"
Rhea smiled even more. "Yes, she is my foolish daughter," she said. "Are you not going to welcome him, Maia?"
The girl didn't respond. Instead, she hid further behind her mother until only her head was visible.
Isaac's lips twitched at the sight, but he didn't think much of it. His gaze shifted to the young boy who stood close to Logan.
He was slightly taller than Isaac, with long platinum hair. He was Rhea's son and Logan's grandson.
'Was it Lancel?'
The boy didn't seem interested in conversation. He walked towards the statue of the goddess without a word, and Maia followed after her brother.
Rhea walked over to Isaac. "You should go rest for now."
Logan nodded in agreement. "Yeah, your body is still weak," he said. "Recover soon, and we can start your training quickly."
'Training?'
Isaac groaned inwardly at the thought.
'But what would the training be about?'
He had no idea what kind of situation he was truly in.
Isaac walked out of the church with Rhea, who led him back to her house.
The elves were still staring at him as though he were an antique piece on display.
"Mother Rhea," Isaac called, making her glance at him. "Can I meet the elves who prayed for me?"
Despite everything, Isaac could hardly bring himself to believe that he had been born from the World Tree. He thought that perhaps one of those women could have been his actual mother.
"You can't."
"Why?"
Rhea looked back at him with a small smile. "Because every one of them has returned to the Sovereign Goddess of the High Realm."
Isaac opened his mouth, then closed it.
'Does that mean every one of them is dead now?'
'How did they die?'
'….Was I born from the deaths of hundreds of elves?'
Lost in those thoughts, Isaac arrived at a different house, situated close to the World Tree.
Rhea opened the door and brought him to an empty room with a single bed on the second floor.
"Wait here," she said with a smile. "I will make something for you to eat."
She walked towards the kitchen, leaving Isaac alone with his ever-growing thoughts.
He sat on the bed and rubbed his face with both hands.
He didn't mind the empty, soulless room, most elves seemed to prefer their homes that way.
Looking around, he noticed a calendar hanging on the wall. He stood up and walked closer for a better look.
'Hmm…?'
'Why does the calendar have the same months and days?'
Aside from a few differences in the names and such, most of it was surprisingly similar to what he knew.
'And this language…'
Isaac ran his finger over the words written on the calendar. The current year, 1456, stood out to him.
'I think I have seen this somewhere before.'
Nothing made sense. Isaac could only sigh and sit back down on the bed.
He began to wonder again why he had transmigrated into this world at all. What could have triggered such a thing?
'I don't remember anything.'
'I was just heavily drunk and bought a charm…'
Suddenly, Isaac remembered — the old shop of a street shaman who had given him a charm, calling it…
"The charm blessed by the god."
Isaac's mind immediately felt heavy, as though something exhausted was pressing into it. His vision blurred, a dark layer of crimson creeping across his sight.
He panicked and tried to move, but he had already lost control over his body.
'Am I going back?'
The thought crossed his mind, bringing a strange comfort amid the pain.
Just as his mind was about to scatter, the pain faded, and the surroundings fell into a strange silence.
Isaac opened his eyes, far more easily than before. Something different yet familiar appeared before him.
A garden stretched out in front of him...vast, beautiful, and empty.
There was nothing in it except for a table, and on top of that table sat a book and a box.
'Where am I?'
Isaac wondered, walking slowly and cautiously towards the table.
He looked at the book. Its cover bore the image of a constellation of stars and an elven woman standing tall.
Isaac slowly picked it up and flipped it open, then immediately froze.
The words inside were not written in the native language of this world.
'English.'
'It's in English…'
The handwriting looked amateurish, messy, almost childish but it was nonetheless the language he knew best.
With trembling hands, Isaac read the first line.
"If you are reading this, then perhaps I am already dead."