isshe professor spoke in a heavy, measured voice, as if every word were being drawn from the depths of his mind:
— "Who… the professor… and why do you keep saying it to me?"
"Do you know who I am?"
The three of them looked at him, astonished by what they heard.
No one answered his questions, while Dr. Lawrence leaned forward toward the professor to examine if there were any injuries on his head.
But before the doctor's hand could touch him, the professor suddenly pulled back, as if afraid of the doctor.
"What… are you doing?"
He said, pained and tense.
"Please, do not be afraid. I just want to check if there are any injuries on your head."
"But why?"
The professor asked, suspiciously.
The doctor looked at him through his copper-framed glasses with transparent round lenses:
"Because it seems that you have a case of memory loss, so I want to check the location of your injury and I might understand the cause and the way to treat it."
The doctor said this calmly and deliberately, knowing that memory loss could affect a person's personality, make them more withdrawn, or even aggressive toward those around them, and could make them harm themselves.
The professor lowered his head toward the doctor, allowing him to examine his head, but the feeling of anxiety and tension never left him. All he could think of was that this old man's words might be true.
The doctor examined his patient, whose face showed clear signs of stress and worry. He examined him thoroughly, from the back to the sides, then the top of the head, and finally the forehead, but he found no injuries—not even minor bruises. The professor's head was completely intact.
When the doctor finished checking for injuries, he leaned back again, resting against the chair he was sitting on. Confidence was evident on his face, as if he had already reached an explanation for the lost memory problem just by a simple act of feeling the head and checking for injuries, then he said:
"There doesn't seem to be any injuries…"
"Since there are no head injuries, this leaves us with another explanation… shock."
He said it calmly and deliberately to make the professor understand.
"Shock!?"
The professor said, confused and astonished.
"Yes… a shock strong enough to affect the memory center in your brain, and it might be connected to what happened to you in that alley."
When he heard the doctor's explanation and its connection to his unconsciousness in that alley, he remembered his injury and looked at his chest, which was only covered by cloth bandages, stained with blood, wrapped from his chest to his waist.
The doctor interrupted him, saying:
"Do not worry, because memory loss from shock does not last long. All you need is some time and some reminders of who you were, and your memory will gradually return."
The professor sighed as if a weight had been lifted from his chest, remembering the dream he had, then said:
"What about dreams!? Do shocks affect dreams!?!"
"Dreams?"
"Yes, they might affect dreams too."
"You might see some of your memories."
The doctor said, directing his gaze at the professor.
"So what about living a strange dream in an even stranger place, unable to move your body, as if your limbs were tightly bound, but strangely, you still have your senses of smell, touch, hearing?"
He said this while struggling to recall what had happened in that dangerous forest—the escape from the soldiers, the intense pain he felt, and the smell of wood and rain. He remembered the monster's skull floating in the darkness, which filled him with terror, and then how it lay on the ground in its blood with a knife embedded in it.
He then felt a burning pain in his chest—not from his injury, but from a deeper place. He placed his hand on the spot that burned inside his chest, showing sorrow, but Dr. Lawrence did not notice.
The doctor rubbed his beard as he responded to the professor:
"I've heard of something like this before, where you can experience the dream environment with all your senses, as if your real body is inside the dream. They could taste exquisite foods and dream wines, and even feel intimate with a woman they had seen in reality, fight without dying, only feel pain, and rule as kings in their dream kingdoms. But as I said, inside their dream, whatever they eat or drink in the dream world will not satisfy or quench them in reality."
"But these dreams were not allowed for everyone; they were only for people who followed the God of Dreams. Being among his followers grants you these abilities. Otherwise, you dream normally, without control over your dream. You might have a nightmare or wake up without remembering your dream. Even if you were lucky enough to have a dream and remember it, it could be chaotic, random, and unorganized."
He paused for a moment, then continued:
"Yes, I remembered… talismans."
He said this after letting his beard be.
The professor looked at him, confused:
"Talismans?"
The doctor's eyes sparkled with delight, as if savoring a small secret:
"Yes, talismans. Talismans allow you to control your dream, but each talisman has a limited time, after which you buy another. They are made in the Church of Dreams, but unfortunately, they were extremely expensive. That's why only kings, nobles, and wealthy merchants who were not followers of the God of Dreams could buy them, and they followed another god."
The doctor paused for a moment, then looked at the professor in surprise, and said:
"But I thought you didn't like the God of Dreams and his churches; you used to see his followers like alcoholics, and you said they were pitiful, and it wasn't their fault, but rather the bitter reality they lived, which is why they chose sweet illusions, even if not real."
"I remember that quote I read in one of your books… as I recall, it was…"
He closed his eyes, trying to remember the quote, then placed his hand again on his beard before saying:
"Because the bitterness of reality seeps into their depths, they drank from the cup of illusions until they were intoxicated, as if their dreams washed away the pain of life and granted them fleeting moments of pleasure."
"Your books were greatly admired by nobles and scholars, even by the other professors at your university."
The professor was flustered hearing the doctor's words, and then remembered the question he had asked before, which no one had answered.
He looked at the doctor, then said:
"Speaking of professors… you kept calling me professor just now."
"Ah… forgive me, I completely forgot. Initially, I am called Lawrence Bjarn, the doctor who treated you.
Sir, you are a lord of Dinford, and also a professor at Castleford University, one of the best universities in the city."
The professor said, embarrassed:
"I… a lord… and a professor!?"
The doctor replied:
"Yes, and your name is Elric Ashford."
The professor said:
"My name is Elric."
"Yes, and you are a professor of philosophy and psychology, though you were a mathematics professor."
"Was!… What do you mean, was!?"
Elric asked, directing questioning looks at the doctor.
The doctor replied:
"Yes, you were a mathematics professor, but you left it to become a professor of philosophy and psychology."
Elric asked:
"Why did I leave it?"
The doctor replied:
"I don't know… nobody knows why."
"Everything happened in a single day, which was strange, because in Dinford, to transfer your field to another, you had to wait a whole month to take the transfer tests, which were then reviewed."
"Unfortunately, you were the youngest mathematics professor in Dinford… yet even after changing fields, nothing changed; you then became the youngest professor of philosophy and psychology in all of Dinford."
"You were twenty-one years old."
"Then you began writing your books and novels, which became a treasure for anyone who loves reading."
The old doctor said happily, like a boy talking about his new toy:
"The quote I mentioned earlier was from one of those books. One of my favorite books was 'Adventurer in the World of Dreams.' There was also another very good book called 'God vs God.'"
When Elric heard the word "God," he remembered the doctor's talk about dreams and the God of Dreams, and said:
"You said another god… is there another god!?"
The doctor replied:
"Yes, there is another god… there are thirteen other gods."
The professor looked at him in astonishment:
"Thirteen gods?"
The doctor said:
"Yes, and each god has a central church and other branch churches, and each central church is located in a country or kingdom, holding more authority in that city."
Elric listened, then asked:
"And who are these gods?"
The doctor replied:
"I do not remember them all, but I may recall some."
He paused to gather his thoughts, then said:
"There are thirteen gods, and each god has a blessing that is useful for their followers. To follow that god, you must go to one of the churches to be baptized, either a branch or central church."
"But… there are rules and conditions to follow in your path as a follower of the god. They will inform you of them when you are baptized. The rules differ from god to god, and if you break them, you will be punished by the god, your blessing will be taken, and you will be considered out of the god's path."
Elric listened, amazed, then asked:
"And what happens if you leave?… Can you return to the same god's path?"
"Yes, one who leaves can return… but at a price."
"Price!? What price!?"
The doctor said:
"It may differ each time or from person to person."
Elric expected a clear and straightforward answer, but this answer exceeded his expectations. He had thought the price might be something dangerous, like his soul or body, but then realized that if he sacrificed his soul, the only path left would be the path to the grave.
The doctor stood and walked a few steps toward the old safe in the bedroom, took out four books, then returned to the chair, looked at the professor with an innocent smile, and said:
"I brought these books some time ago, and I had no one to talk to about them."
Then he handed him a book with a black cover and brown decoration, with words written in faded gold.
Elric looked at the words on the book:
"God vs God."
It was the novel the doctor had mentioned earlier, and it was one of his favorites. It was a large book, nearly a thousand pages, and heavy.
Elric's expression changed, and he said nervously in a trembling voice:
"W-what should I do with this book, Dr. Lawrence!?"
"Read it, of course."
The doctor said with that innocent smile.
"B-but my injury!"
Elric said, with the same expression and trembling voice.
The doctor looked at him and said:
"You haven't complained about it since you woke up, so perhaps it no longer hurts. That's why I want you to read and entertain yourself a little."
Elric, exhausted, looked at the heavy book in his hands, then back at the doctor, realizing there was no escape.