A procesnyan

In the middle of the night, the hero lays unable to sleep. Bright moonlight dripping through his window. Eyes burning because of a lack of sleep. The happenings of the day leave him tossing and turning. Restless. Sunder takes a few painful, deep breaths. He focuses again. He can’t remember his real name, but he is aware he has one. He knows he is not from this world, but also that those like him are treated like criminals. He knows what blood tastes like. The hero stops his line of thought.

The hero knows that in this world; he is a Mage, that he is a D rank mage and that he should work towards an S rank. Going up ranks sounds like it’ll be fun! He doesn’t remember people having magic back in his world.

He thinks back on the people he met. Both Grace and Hope are really cute in their own different way. He will pin all his efforts on getting closer to Hope. She’s helpful and pretty. Really, all that he needed to have a small crush already forming.

He wonders if he had a girlfriend back in his world. There is a feeling of longing for a romantic companion deep in his chest. Maybe the boy Sunder used to be had a girlfriend, a pretty girl with big eyes, warm hands and fragrant hair. Maybe Hope can be that.

Sunder starts to close his heavy eyes. Finally, giving in to sleep.

An almost human scream kills the silence.

Sunder is startled awake. He settles himself. He’s in a building full of adventurers. Someone will check on whoever screamed.

The voice yowls, crying in a high-pitched noise that creeps him to his bones.

Maybe it’s just a cat.

The scream takes on a rhythmic beat. He rakes his hands through his head. It’s a marching band. Practicing in the middle of the night!

Sunder gets up, sleep abandoned. The hero goes up to the window before he loses confidence. He wants to yell at them to stop, but it’d be an unnecessary confrontation. They should know better anyway, what will yelling at them do other than put a target in his back? Perhaps it is customary in this world to do parades in the middle of the night.

He can stand the drums, the cymbals, the flute, and the saxophone.

There’s another scream like sound.

He can’t stand whatever that is.

Sunder runs down the hall and down the stairs. He’s going to confront whoever is making that absurd noise.

He rushes out of the Adventurers Guild in time to catch a glimpse of a banner turning into an alley.

Sunder hears another pair of footsteps behind him.

“Hey! Sunder!” the other man stage whispers. “I was looking for you. Why are you up?”

The hero lets out a heavy sigh. It’s just Furian. Can't he get away from this guy for a minute? He points to the alley with his head and walks towards there without caring if the other man follows him.

He catches up to the marching band. The night air carries the smell of rot.

His eyes get a glimpse of furry paws holding up tiny instruments. Almost instantly, a hand covers his view with a violent twist.

The music stops. He can feel shining eyes pinned on him.

“Don’t look at them. You’ll end up cursed.” Furian explains. He’s already pulling out his sword. “It’s a cat funeral procession. A procesnyan.”

The cats collectively hiss in a long collective dragging note.

Sunder clenches his eyes shut.

“You can look at the cats, mind you,” Furian comments. It sounds like he’s pushing the instruments with the dull side of his sword. “It’s just the dead cat on their shoulders you shouldn’t look at.”

His strategy is simple. He won't detach his eyes from the ground. He can see small tabby paws pattering away from him, but there are still many pairs of hind paws around.

The hero is cautious about using his overpowered skill. But, as long as he keeps his gaze glued to the ground, he should be okay just scaring the cats away. He’s doing his best to shoo them away. A lithe black cat with huge eyes runs away from him, holding a banner. His eyes carefully glancing at the black tail going in the distance. A pair of tabbies, one with long hair and one short two-team him with their cymbals. He manages to scare them away.

A rotund orange cat much bigger than the others is next. This one carries nothing.

Sunder carefully looks at the funeral bier, making sure he does not make eye contact with what lies there. He sees that there’s only four cats remaining. They have let the bier down. One of them is the fat cat in front of him.

“Sunder, I’m not sure what to do now.” Furian wields his sword forward, “I’ve seen no one ever go head first to these, so I’m not sure how to fight them.”

Self consciousness is a funny thing. Up until Furian hadn’t said that he hadn’t noticed how bizarre his behavior was. The hero interrupted someone’s funeral and scared away their grieving companions. At least he’s not as a bad person as Furian who had pulled out his sword and was considering fighting them.

He hangs his head in shame, his gaze remains firmly on the ground.

After a beat, he grabs Furian’s hair by the back of his head and forces him to bow as well.

“We’re sorry.” He adds, “please, don’t curse us.”

Only when the night breeze carries away the requiem of the mourners, Sunder’s back straightens up.

The walk back is slow paced. The sun is painting the sky a pale purple.

“Are those ghost marching bands common?” Sunder rubs his eyes with his palms. A headache already forming from the lack of sleep.

“Cat funerals are common. The marching bad not so much. Must have been an important cat.” Furian puts his arms behind his head in a feline stretch. “You know, I’ve noticed you’ve been quite lost about stuff. It’s fine if you still have regained none of your memories. It’s a bit silly how you pretend to be nonchalant.”

“I've had amnesia for one day.” A day that’s felt like a month, he doesn’t say. "It’d be dumb to pretend to be okay about something like this."

“It would be, and I’m saying you’re clearly the type who would do something as dumb.”

“Are you going somewhere with this train of thought?” Do you want to die? The hero only makes the first question.

“No, just funny to point that out.” Furian scratches his cheek. “I mean, I consider us buddies, you know? And since I’m such a good buddy-” he slings an arm around the other man “- I’m warning you. There might be a big shot in the Adventuring business wanting to see you in the morning. All related to your little display with Frank back there."

“I stared at death itself tonight. I’m not scared.” Sunder aims for edgy confidence, puffing up his chest.

“Kinda just at its paws, but sure.” Furian snickers