Still Beside Me

I reached for my backpack again and grabbed the small pocket’s zipper.

The candle’s flame flooded the bag in shadow. I could hardly see anything inside, previously only able to spot the other items by touch as my hand wandered.

Several quick, raspy hisses rang as the teeth clicked apart. Expecting the pocket to be empty, I blindly plunged my hand deep within while looking at the other items.

Surprised, I drew back my hand, fingertips brushing something cool. I instantly turned to face the bag, frowning and chuckling slightly at myself.

This time looking at the bag, I reached into the pocket once more. Feeling around with my hand, what appeared to be numerous strands entwined with my fingers while they moved, trying to figure out what it was.

My mouth slowly opened. A shiver ran down my spine. My eyes widened, and I began slightly quivering when I felt multiple knots.

“Why-why do I have this…?” I mumbled in disbelief, my voice cracking.

Lost for words, I grabbed everything inside and pulled it out of the backpack. I needed to confirm what it was.

It couldn’t be…

My heart raced, and my eyes began to water once more.

As my shaky hand entered the reaches of the candlelight, dark brown, almost black strands of hair dangled from my fist.

“Why? How did I forget?” I asked myself shakily.

“After everything… It doesn’t make sense.”

When I finally opened my hand, there it was, a fragment of joy, a memory so cherished I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recalled it earlier.

It was Yrish’s hair.

Tears ran down my cheeks, falling on my hand, wetting the strands.

I couldn’t tell if those were tears of sadness, recalling the joyful memories of a person dear to me whose parting came too soon, or tears of joy, realising that something truly hers was still with me.

I hadn’t lost everything.

I wasn’t awake during her burial, yet something physical remained of her. Not only the words she scribbled in my notebook while giggling, but also the strands of hair I had cut, each one still carrying her presence.

I paused for minutes, glaring at my hand. I could hardly believe it was real.

The light flickered with my occasional gasps.

I was certainly happy… Those were tears of joy.

After calming down, I began to think about what to do with the hair. I wanted to keep it as a keepsake, but simply leaving it inside that pocket didn’t feel right.

Now that I knew I had it, I needed to do something with it. Something I could do myself, not relying on someone else to do it or leaving it to be forgotten again.

I tried to recall why I kept it in the first place. I wasn’t sure, but since we were lost in the forest back then, I was probably thinking about making cordage out of it.

However, I was no longer there. There were certainly better things to do with it, something that would always remind me of her and her smile whenever I saw it.

Lone tears dripped down my face as I thoughtfully gazed at the hair with a soft smile.

After a few minutes of contemplation, I was torn between two ideas. I needed to choose to either make a bracelet or a keyring-like charm I could tie my guild card to.

The bracelet was something I could carry with me at all times, but somehow it seemed like the riskier alternative.

I didn’t have anything on hand other than the hair itself. Without something like leather or other kinds of threads, it would undoubtedly come out pretty flimsy.

Honestly, I was afraid.

Rubbing against my wrist while I moved might cause the strands to fray and break too easily.

The keyring option looked more suitable for me. Despite its fragility, being anchored by the guild card and perhaps other items I could attach to it would provide more stability since it wouldn’t move around as much.

It wouldn’t be something I was going to constantly feel or look at, unlike the bracelet. But I wanted to care for her hair.

I didn’t want to risk losing her again. Not anymore.

I believed the charm was definitely the safest choice and would still be with me everywhere I went, so I set my mind on making the keyring.

I silently pushed my things back and slowly brushed my fingers through the strands of hair, trying to untangle it before laying it on the table.

I was both disgusted and delighted by the feeling of her hair.

It felt as if I had gone back. Nothing had happened at all. Those blissful days were never gone.

Sharp, high-pitched shrieks rang as the chair legs dragged on the floor while I tried to reach my spear with the tip of my fingers.

I slotted the handle through the opening on the back of the chair, poking at my cloak, and gripped it by the spearhead.

The fire’s glow reflected onto the tipped stone, and the mantle softly swished and scuffed as it weighed on the moving shaft.

Keeping the spear steadily beneath my arm, I tried to cut as little hair as possible, just enough to remove the large clumps, and put them aside.

In the end, I didn’t have as much hair to work with as I first imagined, but it seemed to still be manageable. The difference in length of the strands wasn’t a big problem, having already gone through similar issues while making cordage.

Everything reminded me of the past. I painfully chuckled.

I was clearly not over it yet.

After placing the spear back, my head gently swayed from side to side, guided by the soothing warmth of the candle. I first began by attempting to make cordage out of it, using the same technique from before.

The hair glinted under the fire’s waver as I twisted it.

I was wide awake. My initial exhaustion seemed long gone by now.

Over the course of close to an hour, I repeated this same process again and again.

Even though it was coming out a bit sloppy, it calmed my mind. I was completely focused on the task before me, ignoring everything else. I ended up making three different threads, each with a similar thickness to one another.

There wasn’t really a different approach to making a bracelet or a keyring. At least I would attempt both in the same way. Since I had three threads, it would probably be best to braid them.

I had never tried braiding anything before. I was scared of messing it up. There were no retries if the threads were to break.

Tying an initial knot, I grabbed the coin pouch and pressed it over the end of the threads, holding them in place, and slowly wove the strings.

I knew how braiding worked in theory, but doing it felt different than I expected. I couldn’t tell if it was my mind reaching its limits or if I was just horrible at it, but my first attempts weren’t going well at all.

I panicked.

My hands were sweaty, threads slipping between my fingers. After several attempts, the crude weave finally took shape.

I pulled it from beneath the sack and tied a second knot on the other end, leaving strands of hair for the final knot.

My hands trembled. My heart beat fast, and a smile spread across my face. I let my head sag over the back of the chair, my body slowly sliding downwards until my neck hooked onto my cloak.

As soon as the pressure faded, my tiredness set in all at once. My eyelids were straining to stay open.

It didn’t look pretty.

It was a miserable attempt at a braided weave.

I was certain anyone else could’ve done a better job than me.

But it was there.

I hadn’t ripped her precious hair. I hadn’t wasted it. It was intact.

I grabbed the guild card and one end of the braided hair. Eyeing the small hole on the top of the card, I eventually managed to pass the hair through.

I knotted the third and last knot, my hands quivering from both fatigue and excitement. I had finally finished the keyring charm.

I was content, trailing my fingers over her hair one last time.

This wasn’t a promise to meet again, but one to never forget.

Leaving the guild card on the corner of the table, I slowly stood up.

I ploddingly stored my belongings inside my backpack in the same order, leaving the sack with food and the guild card on the table. My arms dangled from exhaustion.

Not sure of what to do with the clumps of hair I had cut, I instinctively opened the drawer to throw them away but stopped.

A subtle sense of regret made me shut it and place them back in the pocket. I wanted to keep them. It felt wrong to let them go.

Finally, I closed my bag.

I tottered towards the bright flame of the candle, and, after a soft blow, the light vanished. The fire died out after a long day.

As the room plunged into darkness, only slits of moonlight remained, shining through the gaps in the window shutters.

I wobbled towards the bed before burying myself beneath the covers. Pieces of straw pierced the sheets, pricking my back. It was slightly itchy but not too uncomfortable.

I lay both hands on top of my chest. The moon peeked at the bed, yet its light didn’t bother me at all.

I heard the crunches of the straw beneath me, as well as the howls of tonight’s breeze echoing through the streets.

I was overwhelmed by this world’s realities. Its culture, its language, its magic. Everything was new to me.

Was I going to manage living here from now on? Was I capable of continuing to push forward despite knowing nothing?

I could feel my heart beating through the covers. A constant, calm rhythm resonated through my body.

“Could I someday refer to this world as my own?” I thought to myself.

A soft smile. A single tear.

My mind wandered before I eventually drifted asleep.

It was the beginning of my journey in Riges.

[See the Showcase Section for the protagonist’s Notebook page tracking his days in this other world]