Chapter 74: The Man the World Called Mad

Narrator

The Kingdom of Spades had many kinds of people.

Kings.

Merchants.

Scholars.

Knights.

Thieves.

Nobles.

And fools.

But among all of them...

there had once been a man who understood the world a little too well.

His name had been Edran Veyl.

Once...

he had been one of the most respected scholars in the Kingdom of Spades.

A researcher of human nature.

A professor who taught at one of the kingdom's greatest academies.

And a man who had devoted his life to understanding three things.

The human mind.

The nature of time.

And the invisible reasons behind human decisions.

His research had taken him into places where ordinary scholars rarely dared to look.

Why did people lie?

Why did they desire things they did not need?

Why did power change people?

Why did intelligent men destroy themselves for pride?

And perhaps most importantly...

why did people fear truths that threatened the lives they had built around lies?

Edran had spent years searching for answers.

He had almost found them.

Then...

one night changed everything.

An accident.

A fire.

A laboratory destroyed.

Years of research reduced to ash.

And the people he loved...

gone with it.

The man who survived that night...

was no longer the same man who had entered the laboratory that evening.

Something inside him had broken.

But strangely...

something else had become sharper.

His understanding.

His observation.

His ability to see what people tried desperately to hide.

The Kingdom of Spades had called it madness.

Edran had simply called it...

clarity.

Years passed.

The Kingdom of Spades continued moving.

Markets opened.

Coins changed hands.

Nobles fought over influence.

Merchants fought over contracts.

Families fought over inheritance.

People chased wealth.

People chased status.

People chased time.

And somewhere among them...

Edran walked.

His clothes were torn.

His hair was unkempt.

An old pocket watch hung around his neck.

Its metal surface was scratched from years of use.

The watch no longer showed the correct time.

Yet Edran never stopped carrying it.

People often laughed when they saw him.

Some children called him a madman.

Some merchants avoided him.

Some nobles ordered their guards to move him away from their streets.

Edran never became angry.

He simply watched.

That was what he did best.

He watched.

And listened.

And sometimes...

he said something.

Something small.

Something that sounded meaningless.

Until the person hearing it realized...

he had just been looking into a mirror.

One afternoon...

the central market of Spades was overflowing with people.

Merchants shouted prices.

Carriages passed between crowded streets.

Coins clinked.

Footsteps echoed.

The smell of roasted meat and fresh bread drifted through the air.

Above it all...

the kingdom's enormous clock tower moved slowly toward the evening.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

A wealthy merchant stormed through the market.

His expensive coat moved behind him.

Two servants struggled to follow.

"You wasted an entire minute of my time!"

he shouted at one of his workers.

"Do you understand how much money I lose every minute?"

A few people stepped aside.

Nobody wanted to become involved.

Edran happened to be walking past.

He stopped.

His fingers touched the old pocket watch around his neck.

He looked at it.

Then looked at the merchant.

A faint smile appeared.

"You speak of time..."

The merchant turned.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

"What?"

Edran continued walking.

"You keep counting the minutes..."

"as though they belong to you."

The merchant frowned.

Edran glanced at his pocket watch.

"But time doesn't belong to anyone."

He smiled faintly.

"It merely allows you to stay here for a while."

The merchant's expression changed.

Edran walked past him.

"The day your rent expires..."

He paused.

"...you'll discover that you never owned a single second."

The merchant remained frozen.

His servants looked at him.

Neither knew what to say.

By the time he turned around...

Edran was already gone.

Only the sound of the clock remained.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Another day...

two nobles were arguing near an old stone wall.

The argument had begun over a piece of land.

Now it had become a battle of pride.

"That land belongs to me!"

one shouted.

"My grandfather purchased it!"

The other slammed his cane against the ground.

"Your grandfather stole it!"

Edran sat nearby beneath a dead tree.

He had been listening.

Eventually...

he stood.

He bent down.

His fingers picked up a small piece of earth.

He turned it over in his palm.

Both nobles looked at him.

"What are you staring at?"

one demanded.

Edran looked at the soil.

Then at them.

"You both keep saying..."

He lifted the soil.

"...'my land.'"

He smiled.

"But have you ever asked the land?"

The nobles stared.

Edran dropped the soil.

It disappeared between the cracks in the stone.

"One day..."

he said quietly,

"you will stop saying the land belongs to you."

He looked at them.

"And the land will finally get to say..."

"...you belong to me."

Silence.

Neither noble spoke.

Edran walked away.

Behind him...

the two men slowly looked at the ground beneath their feet.

For the first time that day...

neither cared about the boundary line.

That was how Edran lived.

Not as a beggar.

Not exactly.

Not as a scholar.

Not anymore.

He had become something difficult to name.

A man who wandered through the cracks of society.

A man who slept beneath abandoned roofs.

A man who sometimes disappeared for days.

A man who possessed almost nothing...

yet seemed strangely free.

Eventually...

the people of Spades gave him a name.

The Mad Sage.

Edran didn't mind.

In fact...

he found it amusing.

But his strange behavior eventually brought him into trouble.

One evening, several guards found him standing in the middle of a noble district.

He had been staring at a nobleman's mansion for nearly an hour.

The guards approached him.

"What are you doing here?"

Edran looked at the mansion.

"Watching."

"Watching what?"

"The people inside."

The guards exchanged confused looks.

One of them frowned.

"You are disturbing the peace."

Edran looked at him.

"Peace?"

He glanced toward the mansion.

"Interesting word."

The guards had heard enough.

They arrested him.

For several days...

the Mad Sage remained inside a cell.

But even there...

he continued observing people.

He watched the guards.

The prisoners.

The changing sunlight through the narrow window.

And eventually...

the truth behind his arrest became clear.

The noble whose mansion he had been observing had been involved in a financial crime.

Edran had not been spying on him.

He had been studying him.

His observations helped expose the man's hidden dealings.

The charges against Edran were dropped.

The guards released him.

One of them even apologized.

Edran simply nodded.

Then walked away.

He never returned to the noble district.

Instead...

he left the Kingdom of Spades.

And eventually...

his wandering brought him to a small village in the mountains.

Restart Village.

A place far from the ambitions of kings.

Far from the noise of great cities.

Far from the people who had once called him insane.

He had been living there for several years.

The villagers had learned to accept him.

Some called him strange.

Some called him wise.

Some simply called him Edran.

And Edran preferred the last one.

But Edran wasn't the only strange person who had found a home in Restart Village.

There was another.

A young man who seemed to have absolutely no respect for the seriousness of the world around him.

His name was Lak.

Lak had been in the village long enough for the villagers to develop a simple explanation for him.

He was weird.

Very weird.

Some had even concluded that he was probably insane.

Lak didn't disagree.

He considered it a compliment.

One afternoon...

Lak happened to see Edran sitting beneath the banyan tree.

He stopped.

He stared at the old scholar.

Edran stared at the leaves.

Lak stared at Edran.

Edran remained completely silent.

Lak narrowed his eyes.

"...Nice act."

He waited.

Nothing happened.

Edran continued looking at the tree.

Lak shrugged.

"Whatever."

And he walked away.

That was it.

For once...

Lak didn't make another comment.

Because although he didn't understand Edran's strange way of thinking...

something about the man felt familiar.

Perhaps because Lak had experienced something similar.

People often misunderstood him too.

They didn't understand his jokes.

They didn't understand why he spoke to empty air.

They didn't understand why he sometimes looked directly toward things nobody else could see.

And whenever he explained himself...

things somehow became even more confusing.

Lak had once been arrested in the Kingdom of Spades as well.

Not because he was dangerous.

Mostly because the authorities had misunderstood one of his actions and considered him suspicious.

The misunderstanding was eventually cleared up.

He was released after evidence proved he had nothing to do with the incident.

Lak had then decided that returning to the Kingdom of Spades was probably an excellent idea...

if his goal was to get arrested again.

So he chose Restart Village instead.

It was quieter.

There were fewer guards.

And, most importantly...

people here already thought he was strange.

Lak considered that convenient.

One evening, while walking through the village, he looked around.

"People in Spades called me crazy."

He pointed toward himself.

"People here call me crazy too."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"At least the world is consistent."

A villager passing nearby stared at him.

Lak looked back.

"What?"

The villager quickly walked away.

Lak sighed.

"See?"

He looked toward the sky.

"Nobody understands me."

He paused.

"...I don't understand me either."

He shrugged.

"Still working on that."

Restart Village was different from Spades.

Here...

the river mattered more than gold.

The harvest mattered more than reputation.

A neighbor's health mattered more than political influence.

Children ran freely through the paths.

Farmers worked beneath open skies.

And the ancient banyan tree stood in the heart of the village...

its roots buried deep beneath the soil.

Edran often sat beneath it.

He liked the tree.

It never tried to prove anything.

It simply grew.

One peaceful afternoon...

Edran sat beneath the banyan tree.

His pocket watch rested against his chest.

Nearby...

V was practicing magic.

No chant.

No spell.

No complicated ritual.

Only concentration.

V stared at his hand.

A small amount of mana gathered around his fingers.

T sat nearby.

She watched him carefully.

Then...

she copied him.

She raised her tiny hand.

Nothing happened.

She frowned.

T tried again.

Still nothing.

Kai noticed.

He immediately walked over.

"If V can do it..."

He proudly raised his hand.

"...then obviously I can too."

He closed his eyes dramatically.

A long silence followed.

Nothing happened.

Kai opened one eye.

Still nothing.

He coughed.

"I was testing the atmosphere."

T burst out laughing.

V looked at him.

"...Sure."

Kai placed a hand over his chest.

"Exactly."

Lak happened to be passing by.

He stopped.

He looked at V.

Then T.

Then Kai.

Then at the tiny amount of mana around V's fingers.

"...Okay."

He pointed toward Kai.

"The little one is copying V."

Then he pointed toward himself.

"I'm witnessing this."

He looked at Kai.

"And this guy is copying the little one."

Kai frowned.

"What's your point?"

Lak nodded seriously.

"Nothing."

He paused.

"Just wanted to confirm the village has completely lost its mind."

Kai threw a small stone at him.

Lak ducked.

"Violence! See? I was right!"

The stone rolled into the grass.

Edran watched from beneath the tree.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

The village was noisy.

Simple.

Strange.

Beautiful.

Later that afternoon...

Edran found Lak sitting beside the river.

Lak was staring at the water.

Edran sat several steps away.

Neither spoke for a while.

The river moved between them.

Slowly.

Patiently.

Like time itself.

Edran finally spoke.

"People fear what they cannot understand."

Lak glanced at him.

"Yeah."

Edran continued.

"They give it names."

Lak nodded.

"Also yeah."

Edran looked at him.

"Mad."

Lak pointed at himself.

"That one."

Edran's expression remained calm.

Lak scratched his head.

"Though honestly..."

He looked toward Edran.

"I don't understand half the things you say."

Edran said nothing.

Lak sighed.

"So what am I supposed to call you?"

He counted on his fingers.

"Wise?"

"Deep?"

"Mysterious?"

He paused.

"Or just... really committed to the performance?"

Edran looked at the river.

Lak stared at him.

No answer.

Lak slowly nodded.

"Right."

He stood.

"Still don't understand."

He walked away.

Then stopped.

He looked back.

"...But I respect the commitment."

Edran's lips curved into the faintest smile.

That evening...

the villagers gathered near their homes.

Children laughed.

The river reflected the orange light of sunset.

Smoke rose from chimneys.

The mountains stood silently beyond the village.

Edran walked alone along the village path.

A child pointed toward him.

"There's the strange uncle!"

Another child laughed.

Edran stopped.

He looked at them.

Then smiled.

"Strange?"

The children nodded.

Edran placed one hand over his chest.

"Excellent."

He continued walking.

Behind him...

the children laughed.

Edran laughed too.

Because he had learned something long ago.

People feared what they could not understand.

And when they could not understand something...

they gave it a name.

Mad.

Strange.

Crazy.

Dangerous.

It was easier than admitting...

"I don't understand."

Night slowly covered Restart Village.

The stars appeared above the mountains.

Edran sat beneath the ancient banyan tree once again.

His pocket watch rested in his hand.

It had stopped.

The hands hadn't moved for years.

Yet Edran still wound it every night.

Click.

Click.

Click.

He listened to the silence.

Then whispered...

"Still broken."

A small smile appeared.

"Just like me."

The wind passed through the branches.

The banyan leaves answered with a soft rustling.

Edran looked toward the stars.

For a brief moment...

the broken scholar from the Kingdom of Spades disappeared.

And only a tired old man remained.

A man who had lost everything...

and somehow found peace in a village that asked him for nothing.

Nearby...

Lak was lying on the grass, staring at the stars.

He heard Edran's words.

He turned his head.

"That's depressing."

Edran looked at him.

Lak immediately pointed upward.

"I'm not judging."

He paused.

"Okay, maybe a little."

He returned his gaze to the sky.

"Everyone here thinks I'm weird."

A small smile appeared on his face.

"You're weird too."

He glanced at Edran.

"So I guess we're even."

Edran looked toward the stars again.

"Perhaps."

Lak smiled.

"See? That's exactly the kind of answer that makes people think you're mysterious."

He paused.

"And I'm still waiting for the explanation."

Edran didn't answer.

Lak sighed.

"Of course."

The wind moved through the village.

The river continued its journey.

The ancient banyan tree stood silently above them.

Its roots held the earth.

Its branches reached toward the sky.

And beneath it...

two very different men sat in silence.

One had been called mad because people could not understand his thoughts.

The other was called mad because people could not understand his words.

Neither seemed particularly concerned anymore.

Narrator

There is a strange truth about human beings.

When one person's way of thinking rises far beyond the thoughts of those around him...

the others often cannot follow.

They cannot understand the path he sees.

They cannot see the meaning behind his words.

So instead of admitting that they cannot understand him...

they give him a name.

Mad.

Insane.

Crazy.

Perhaps that is one of the oldest truths of humanity.

History has seen it again and again.

The world often laughs at the mind it cannot understand...

until time proves that mind was never truly lost.

And sometimes...

the person everyone calls a fool...

is simply the one who saw the truth...

A little earlier than everyone else.