Tap! Tap! Tap!
As Noir was leafing through the book, the sharp rapping at the door shattered the silence. He flinched, a knot of anxiety tightening in his gut about who was outside.
A young woman, who looked quite similar to Alder with long, black hair cascading past her shoulders, stepped inside.
"Alder? Are you ready to go?" She asked in a voice oddly familiar to Noir, "I need to get some groceries today, and I could really use a hand," obviously addressing the 'Alder Wilson' persona Noir now held.
Noir just nodded. "Give me a minute, Grace. I'll be down in a moment," he said, the words coming out instinctively, perhaps due to the persona of Alder he now inhabited.
Grace's smile grew softer. "Alright, I'll be waiting for you downstairs." She nodded softly and slid the door shut, leaving Noir alone in the room once again.
Noir sighed.
'Grace? So this is the elder sister of Alber– Alder, actually.'
He looked at the photograph on the desk, and she was the same person in the photo.
'Yeah, that's why she seemed familiar, or maybe due to this body I'm in right now.'
Noir took a deep breath and moved towards the wardrobe. He took out a fresh linen shirt, changing from the one he currently wore.
He moved to the desk, taking a seat. He picked up a pocket watch lying amidst the scattered papers and stacks of books.
He found himself idly, almost nervously, opening and closing the watch's glass cover, his foot stomping a rhythm on the wooden floor.
'What am I supposed to do now?'
'Maybe I'll just play the pretense.'
'But why the hell am I in a different body?'
'What about my handsome face? What about my inconceivable physique?'
He ran a hand through his hair, which barely reached his earlobes.
'And where the hell is my hair!'
'I'm initiating a missing poster for my hair. Last seen being magnificent; now, it's tragically just past my earlobes.'
Suddenly, his gaze froze at a piece of paper with ancient carvings.
'What's that?'
He picked up that old piece of paper lying amidst the scattered books.
'This writing script, it... It's weird... but somehow I can read it.'
A sharp knock on the door made Noir flinch.
'GAH!! GOSH!'
"What is taking you so long? If you don't want to go, just say so!" Grace called out to Alder from outside the room in a more annoyed voice.
'You almost gave me a panic attack, dear sister!'
Noir quickly strode to the door and pulled it open. "It's nothing, I was just... sorting out the books," He offered an excuse, feeling clumsy on his tongue.
Grace gave a hawk-eye look to Noir, her eyes scanning through the messy room.
"I don't see no books sorted in this room," She replied.
"Never mind," Noir replied, drifting her focus, he closed the door behind him. "Let's go."
A little smile, one that seemed to show a quiet concern for her silly younger brother, touched Grace's lips. She simply nodded, and they began their walk.
As they moved through the bustling streets, Noir's gaze swept across the surroundings.
'This certainly doesn't seem like Germany to me.'
'Why is everything so old-fashioned here? not that I dislike it.'
The place was filled with a different life energy. Children were laughing and playing, their joy echoing freely. People were everywhere; some were diligently working, others were out shopping.
'It seems pretty lively here.'
'Not a scene I get to see in my everyday life.'
'I wonder which nation I'm in.'
As they walked, they were met by a group of Grace's friends. Grace stopped for a little chat with her friends.
Noir, knowing how 'little' this chat was going to be, felt a surge of annoyance.
"Could I… could I just go ahead?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
Grace, still grinning, nodded. "Sure, I can manage on my own after all. The groceries won't be much anyway."
'Wasn't the reason you took me with you because you needed help?' Noir thought, his inner voice laced with annoyance.
As if she read his mind, Grace's grin widened. "Don't look all so annoyed, little brother. It's nice to spend some time with your sister every now and then, isn't it?"
Noir gave a half-hearted shrug that could be taken as agreement. He left Grace's side and started walking, his eyes now keenly exploring the place.
As he moved through the bustling market square, his eyes scanning every peculiar detail – a steam-powered delivery cart trundling past, the intricate gears on a public clock, the peculiar fashion of the era – he noticed someone staring at him.
She was a young woman, seated on a low stool by a draped stall. Her face held a captivating blend of youth and an almost ancient knowing.
Before he could react or avert his gaze, her voice, soft yet surprisingly clear, cut through the market clamor.
"Would you like me to tell your fortune, young man?" she asked, her eyes sharp.
Noir stopped, confusion wrapping around his face.
"What?" he asked instinctively, the single word sharp with disbelief.
She offered a smile that seemed to hold ancient secrets, a captivating curve of her lips.
"Your future, your path, the unseen threads that guide your steps. All for those with open minds. Can be learned through a simple task."
'What in the world is going on here?'
'Are people 'round here delusional or something?'
"I have no money," Noir stated, a pragmatic truth. He didn't even know what currency this world used.
But she merely waved a delicate hand. "Oh, for you, young one, it's all free." Her gaze held a strange intensity, pulling him in.
Noir paused. 'Free? Nothing valuable was truly ever free.'
He hesitated, but what did he have to lose? 'Nothing.'
'Whatever! I'll give it a try.'
"Alright," he said, a decision made on a whim. "I'll hear it."
She led him into her small, surprisingly dark fortune-telling lair, a space draped with heavy, patterned cloths.
The air was thick with the scent of herbs and something else, something subtly metallic and ancient.
She gestured to a low stool. "Sit, sit."
Noir sat, the stool was surprisingly comfortable beneath him.
"So, how are you going to do this? The… fortune telling thing."