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In the restaurant, a rather unremarkable-looking man approached Genze. He appeared to be of middle age, although his eyes held the weariness of a ninety-year-old.
"Listen, kid, you're a local, right? You're lucky. You were born and raised in a good country, unlike me. You know where I'm from? From the back of a camel, ha-ha!" Despite the joke being accompanied by laughter, the stranger's eyes didn't reflect amusement; rather, they were filled with melancholy. "Okay, bad joke. I haven't been very funny lately, and my thoughts aren't exactly cheerful either – all I can think about is negativity. So, answering my own question, I'm from Kororat, in Marcella. Just north of here – I assume you at least know the geography of the neighboring countries. We were recently attacked by the undead from Haran. I managed to escape in time, but I lost everything. I'm practically left with nothing." Realizing how it sounded, he quickly tried to explain. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not begging or anything. It's just... you have kind eyes. I've been thinking about how my ancestors struggled, toiled, and developed these lands, and then the Empress came along and destroyed the empire, and now we have to suffer. What was the point of it all?" He shook his head. "But the worst part isn't that, it's everything else."
The man shows a collage of two photographs.
"She's beautiful, isn't she? She's from Riedel. There are some problems there, and it would take two or three years for me to get the necessary paperwork to go there, which isn't an option. So, she usually swam to see me, not the other way around... But that won't work now. I don't have a home anymore. Or money. I can barely afford to send a letter. But asking someone for money for something so personal... it's just awful. Lately, I just want to take a rope and... but I stop myself, thinking about her. It's just a paradox." He sighed heavily, finishing his thought. "And why was I born in this Welferian backwater? My life would be so much easier if I were from Asuguth."