Who am I? Where do I come from? Where am I going?
—The three ultimate questions of life
Who exactly am I? Rosha didn't know how to answer that. If he could, he'd be a philosopher—but unfortunately, he was anything but.
Riven's gaze stayed locked on him, unblinking. The flare of anger around her seemed to fade along with the fire in her eyes. She remembered—she was no longer a soldier of Noxus. She was just a wanderer now. She didn't know who *she* was, so she wanted to know who the man in front of her truly was.
Rosha tilted his head back and looked up at the sky. The heavens here were clearer, as if you could see your own reflection in that blue mirror above. His eyes followed a few drifting clouds, but his mind was full of memories… Coming to this strange world, being saved by the woman before him—how she had dragged him across this land, found him food and water, even tended to his needs in the most undignified moments. For over a month she had cared for him, and he could even recall exactly how many tears had fallen from the corners of her eyes on those nights when she lost control.
The memories kept flashing by: the squad leader's drills, the counselor's care, the oath beneath the red flag, fragments of university life, the struggles of high school, the rebellion of junior high, the mischief of primary school… Even his earliest childhood memories were so vivid—the touch of his mother's cheek felt almost within reach.
Slowly, Rosha reached out his right hand, brushing against that imagined, loving face, and whispered, "My name is Zadred. I come from another world—but I have Rosha's memories."
On Runeterra, beings from other worlds weren't uncommon. The celestial Aspects of Mount Targon, the wandering bard Bard—they didn't belong here either, yet they could cross the river of time and space to walk this land. So, Riven wasn't surprised to hear the man before her claim to be from another world. What intrigued her was the past he spoke of.
This wasn't some made-up tale—she could see it. The sorrow and sincerity in his eyes, the detailed recounting of his life from childhood until now. When he spoke of his mother, there were tears in his eyes. And then came the quiet words: "But I can never go back…"
Riven's own eyes grew wet, and she murmured softly, "Yes… I can never go back either."
Her low sobbing pulled Rosha from his thoughts. He looked over to see the strong woman before him with tears streaming down her face. With a sigh, he walked over and gently patted her shoulder.
That simple gesture broke her composure entirely. She leaned on his shoulder, weeping harder, pouring out months of pain.
By the time Father Asa and Mother Shava returned home, Riven was pulling away from him, face flushed, and retreating to her own room.
"What's wrong with Daeda?" Asa asked curiously. His daughter was usually as strong as stone—why would she suddenly be crying?
Rosha didn't know how to explain to the old couple, so he just gave a sheepish laugh.
Shava gave Asa a glare before looking Rosha over. Her eyes curved into a smile. "Asa, look—our Iza may be bald, but he's quite the handsome young man!"
Asa finally noticed Rosha's fully healed face. After studying him for a moment, he broke into a grin. "Tonight we feast—our Iza is recovered!"
While Shava cooked, Rosha went to the river. Looking down into the water's reflection, he didn't know what to say. His head was bare of hair and brows, but the body was undoubtedly his own—only it wasn't his twenty-seven-year-old self, but rather his teenage body, seventeen or eighteen, a boy's face still fresh with youth.
"Not only am I alive again… I'm younger too. What the hell is this?" Rosha muttered, sighing as he walked home.
Dinner came with an extra dish that night. Riven's eyes were still a bit red, but her demeanor seemed softer. The two elders exchanged a knowing smile before sharing stories from the market, filling the little home with warmth.
After the elders retired early, Rosha and Riven stayed behind to clear the dishes. After a long silence, Riven suddenly said, "I'll still call you Rosha."
"All right," Rosha nodded.
"This belongs to you. I don't know what it is. When I was about to bury you, I found it hanging around your neck, so I kept it. I'd planned to return it to your family if I ever found them." She handed him the item in her hand.
Rosha looked down and smiled—it was his military identification tag, what most people simply called "dog tags," two plates strung on a beaded chain. One bore his name, blood type, and number; the other, a QR code.
"I've never seen these markings before," Riven frowned. "They look like some kind of magical rune."
"This is my identification tag," Rosha said, pointing to the letters on the main plate. "That's not a magic rune—that's my name. Below it is my blood type and military number. At the bottom is my unit insignia."
"As for the second plate, the code there contains my home address and my parents' information." Rosha hung the chain back around his neck, sighing. "This is the only thing I have in this world."
Riven listened intently, and when he finished, she thought for a moment before asking, "And its purpose?"
"If I die on the battlefield and my body is unrecognizable, they can use this tag to identify me and notify my parents," Rosha said with a slight shake of his head. "Unfortunately… this time, my parents will never even know where I am—or whether I'm alive or dead."
Riven nodded slowly. "It would've been useful if our squad had these…" She trailed off, shook her head, and said no more, sitting to the side as Rosha finished tidying the kitchen.
When he was done, he looked at her, still staring off. "All right—go get some sleep."
The lack of entertainment in this world was frustrating—after dinner, all there was to do was go to bed.
But Riven didn't move, as if deep in thought. Rosha poured her a glass of water and handed it to her.
After a sip, she spoke. "I once had the fortune to hear LeBlanc give a speech. She said that, in the end, all magical cultivation leads to the truth of this world—and the secret of immortality."
"You mean… the so-called Aspects?" Rosha had heard many legends of Runeterra and knew what she meant.
"Yes. They can cross space and time from the stars to here. If you could reach that level, you might find a way home."
Rosha's pupils narrowed, and he shot to his feet, his expression shifting rapidly…
After a long moment, he looked down at Riven and said firmly, "Teach me."
"No problem," Riven agreed at once—then shook her head slightly. "But I'm only a magic swordsman. I can't teach you much."
"I'll become a magic swordsman first. For the rest, I'll find a way."
"All right," Riven said as she stood and walked toward her room. "Be ready tomorrow."
"Yes, teacher!" Rosha gave a formal bow.
Riven's lips curved into the faintest smile, and in a whisper almost too soft to hear, she said, "At least one of us has to make it back."
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