[Unknown Fable: ...Exuding sheer astonishment that the Dungeon Master was entirely serious about making you its master.]
[Unknown Fable: So... you are my new master?]
"What do you mean by 'master'? And what are you?" I whispered into the quiet dark of the room. "A Fable? Like... a literal story? Whose story?"
[Unknown Fable: Don't tell me you don't even understand what a Fable is.]
"How could I?" I muttered softly, casting a side glance toward the sleeping quarters.
Lina and Ruby were curled together, wrapped around each other like two children clinging to a plushie in their sleep. Looking closer, though, it was clear Ruby was the one holding on with a white-knuckled grip—her subconscious refusal to let go even while dormant.
[Unknown Fable: Stop staring at them and show at least a grain of noble dignity.]
It can talk... and it can read my mind. I winced internally. Whatever this thing is, it's far from ordinary.
[Unknown Fable: (Exuding a proud, boastful aura) I am capable of far more than simple mind-reading.]
"Right... So, who are you? I genuinely don't know you. But I guess you already knew that, since you're reading my thoughts."
[Unknown Fable: (Sighs heavily) Listen carefully. I will explain this in the simplest terms—terms even a toddler could digest. I am history of something . I am influence of someone.]
"You mean... a historical narrative? An influential legacy? Like the founder of an empire or a legendary healer?"
[Unknown Fable: Tsk. This vessel is remarkably dense... Dungeon Master, what were you thinking? I am the history created by you.]
"Me? History?" My mind blanked. "What could I have possibly done to manifest an entire Fable?"
[Unknown Fable: You did nothing. The Dungeon Master forged it. That is precisely why your UI cannot read my name.]
"Then why am I being handed someone else's history? And what kind of history did that beast even create?"
[Unknown Fable: Mana and others forged definitions around everything that carries a life and a death. But beyond that...?]
"Beyond that... what? Heaven or hell?" I sighed, rolling my eyes in the dark. "Why does waking up feel like a job interview? I'm going back to sleep."
[Unknown Fable: A lived life, a forged history, an existence so deeply remembered by even a single soul that it manifests as a Fable. Through that Fable, a dead person continues to breathe and exist.]
"That's... heavy," I murmured, processing the concept. "So you're saying you are the preserved memory of someone's past. And if that person dies, carrying their Fable means they somewhat live on through me?"
[Unknown Fable: Close enough. Not the entire truth, but I won't bother explaining further. You will understand once you experience it yourself.]
"Am I... going to die anytime soon?"
[Unknown Fable: I am no prophet. But no, I do not believe your clock is running out just yet.]
"Good. That's comforting."
[Unknown Fable: Now sleep. I need a strong host, not an exhausted carcass.]
"I don't even care about getting strong. What would I even do with that kind of power...?"
[Unknown Fable: Just live. I will give you your answer when the time is right. Just don't come crying to me when the truth hurts.]
"Whatever," I grumbled softly. "It's not like I've massacred innocents or committed unforgivable atrocities. It's not like demons are actively hunting my head."
[Unknown Fable: ...]
The system fell dead silent.
Shifting onto my left side, my eyes drifted back to Lina and Ruby. A fleeting, foolish thought crossed my tired brain: Does sleeping next to someone require love... or just absolute trust?
Alas, ignoring my overthinking mind—which loved to ask endless questions like a battle-weary soldier exaggerating a war—I let the darkness pull me under.
The weeks that followed melted into a blur of slow, agonizing days.
Time moves at a strange pace when your mind is conscious but your physical form remains a prisoner. Before I knew it, two full months had slipped by in the quiet sanctuary of Lina's home.
Looking back over those eight weeks after waking up from that initial feverish nightmare, the sheer embarrassment of my recovery still made my chest tight. Being a grown man and having Lina change my clothes, wash my body, and handle my most basic hygiene felt like a crushing weight on my pride. It wasn't that my hands lacked physical strength—it was that any sudden or prolonged movement caused my nervous system to short-circuit, dropping me straight into unconsciousness.
It was a living curse.
Lina constantly reassured me that tending to my condition was actively helping train her specialized caretaker skills. Ruby threw in her usual razor-sharp teases, the Unknown Fable roasted my pathetic state from inside my head, and my own internal guilt rendered me hopelessly clumsy.
Eventually, small victories came. I could finally hold objects for extended periods without passing out, and I could walk short distances with physical support. The recovery was painfully slow, but Ruby had either grown slightly more tolerant of my presence, or I had simply grown immune to her barbed tongue.
In my vast ocean of free time, I devoured the old books Lina brought me. Most were ancient Fable records: The Jester for Whom the Emperor Danced, Legends of the Lionheart, The Demon of Adheonic. Every single one of them ended in bitter tragedy or incomplete histories, but I read them all anyway—mostly because I had nothing else to do.
"Ryn? Where is your head at?"
Lina's voice shattered my train of thought. She set a steaming tray down beside me, giving me a soft, confused look. "Eat your meal quickly before we start your healing and exercise routine."
"Okay!" I called back.
As I picked up the eating utensils, my overthinking brain immediately went to work: Which one are they going to do first? Exercise before healing, so the magic repairs the freshly strained muscle fibers? Or healing before exercise, so dead tissue gets repaired to prevent tears during movement?
[Unknown Fable: Does it truly matter? Regardless... I have something to tell you.]