Laughter rumbled from the group of farmers clustered near the wooden fence. The scent of grilled meat lingered in the air, carried by the soft evening breeze. Fireflies had begun to flicker across the fields, and the final light of sunset painted the sky in streaks of orange and purple.
Thorskil's voice had just joined in with a deep chuckle when it suddenly faded. The smile on his face thinned, then disappeared entirely. His body, tall and broad-shouldered from years of work in the fields, went still. His weathered hand paused mid-gesture, and his eyes narrowed slightly as he stared into the distance.
Something was wrong.
He didn't say a word at first but his instincts had spoken louder than any voice could. A faint but familiar pressure coiled in his chest, the kind he had learned to trust in his younger days. A farmer now, yes. But once, he had lived a very different life. A life where moments like this often preceded something terrible.
His gaze drifted toward the edge of the field, just beyond the wooden fence that marked the his yard's boundary. Beyond that, the wheat swayed gently under the twilight sky, dancing softly as if nothing were amiss. Yet something felt... off.
Saul caught the shift in Thorskil's demeanor. He had been leaning casually against a post, sharing a drink with another man, but the way Thorskil had frozen pulled his attention. Saul straightened.
He knew Thorskil well. A gentle man. A devoted husband. A loving father. He rarely raised his voice, never threw his weight around. He had no desire to remind people of the strength he carried in those arms, the kind of strength that had once made him feared on battlefields. He had nothing to prove to anyone anymore.
But now... he looked serious. His jaw was set, rose tinted eyes focused like a wolf catching the scent of something unnatural.
Saul stepped away from the group and approached him, his boots crunching lightly against the dry grass. He rested a hand near the hilt of his blade, more out of habit than fear.
"What is it?" Saul asked in a low tone.
Thorskil didn't look away. "I smell blood," he said simply, his voice steady, but laced with concern. "Out there. In the wheat."
Saul blinked and followed his gaze into the darkening field. He scanned the gently rippling stalks of grain, watched as the amber blades rolled in waves. For a moment, there was only silence.
Then, a rustle.
A small figure emerged from the wheat. A child.
"Dad!" the boy called out as he ran forward, his tone light and unconcerned. "I think I found a dead mouse!"
Saul's brow arched as the boy ducked under the fence, crawling through the gap with ease.
A man from the group — one of the older farmers — pushed forward with an irritated scowl. His face twisted in disbelief as he marched to the fence and placed both hands on the wooden beam.
"What in the monstrosity are you doin' out there, Junior? I told you to stay inside the yard!" the man shouted, voice half-anger, half-relief. "Get back in here! Your palms are covered in blood!"
The boy scrunched his nose but obeyed, brushing dirt from his knees as he climbed back onto the yard side of the fence. The father grabbed his arm as he went to the backyard to wash off the dirt and blood.
Saul let out a short, amused breath. "Looks like it was just a rodent after all," he said, glancing at Thorskil. "You sure you're alright? Maybe your nose is just being dramatic."
Thorskil didn't answer right away.
His eyes lingered on the wheat field for several more seconds. His shoulders were still tense. He was listening to something... like something that no one else could.
Then, slowly, he nodded and forced a smile. "I'm fine."
His tone was calm, convincing enough to let the moment pass. Saul studied him a second longer, then nodded and let the matter drop.
The two men turned back toward the group, rejoining the others as the laughter and stories resumed. The atmosphere returned to its warm, festive rhythm. Children played in the distance. Plates were passed around. The sky darkened further, stars beginning to peek through the clouds.
But Thorskil's eyes wandered once more toward the fence.
And the field beyond it.
His smile did not return.
--Kyro--
Lyra was energetic beyond reason. I swear, she had tagged me at least ten times already. Ten. And she wasn't slowing down at all.
I collapsed onto the grass, arms sprawled out like a defeated soldier. My chest heaved as I gasped for air.
"T-time out!" I shouted, holding one hand up in surrender, my breath ragged and hot. My limbs felt like they had turned to jelly. Onnie had surprised me. I honestly didn't think she'd be that fast, but she had kept pace the whole time, even outrunning me at some point. That stung a little more than I wanted to admit. Not gonna lie, I was kind of embarrassed.
A boy skidded to a stop near me, looking confused. "What's a timeout?"
I lifted my head, still trying to catch my breath. "What it means is I'm out. For now. Just... taking a break. You all are way too fast," I muttered, giving him a tired look.
"But you're it!" one of the girls shouted from a few feet away, throwing her arms up in protest. "That's not fair!"
I narrowed my eyes and let out a long, dramatic sigh. "You know what? I quit."
A murmur passed through the group. The kids looked around at one another, eyebrows raised. No one really protested. They just kind of... accepted it — probably expected — it with a collective shrug.
Then Onnie slowly raised her hand. "I-I quit as well," she said softly, her voice almost swallowed by the wind.
Lyra perked up and immediately turned to her. "Oh, come on, Onnie!" she said, jogging over. "You can't quit too! If one or two people quit, then the game gets all boring!"
Onnie froze, her shoulders rising as her fingers fidgeted against each other. She looked cornered, unsure of how to respond.
"I... I guess I could stay for a little while longer," she said, hesitant but sincere.
"That's the spirit!" Lyra beamed and gave her a light slap on the back. "Let's go again. I'll be it this time!"
She turned and yelled at the rest of the kids, and they all scattered like birds. Lyra took off after them with a wild grin.
Onnie lingered for just a moment, her head angled slightly in my direction. Her eyes were closed as always, yet I could somehow tell she was looking at me. Or at least trying to. Her face was full of apology, like she was silently telling me she was sorry for leaving me behind. Then she turned and ran after the others, her black hair bouncing behind her.
I watched her go. My head dropped back into the grass with a soft thud.
Lyra had stolen my one and only friend. Just like that. Unbelievable.
Still, I couldn't even blame her. Peer pressure is brutal. Especially at her age. You get pulled into the moment, and before you realize it, you're doing what everyone else is doing, whether you want to or not.
Soaked with sweat, my shirt clinging to my back, I dragged myself up and stumbled inside the house. The cool air inside greeted me like a long-lost friend. I peeled off my damp clothes and swapped them out for something fresh. After washing my hands and splashing some water on my face, I headed up to the second floor.
I passed my bedroom and stopped by the window. Down in the backyard, the game was still going. Kids ran in wide loops around the open space, laughing and yelling. A few adults were nearby, chatting among themselves with light smiles and easy voices.
I sighed and shook my head.
Then I turned and walked into the study room, which sat just across the hallway from my room. The space was quiet, filled with the faint scent of paper and wood polish. This was where Mother, Lyra, and I usually spent our mornings reading or doing lessons. I walked over to the wide window at the far end.
From here, I could see the front yard. Most of the adults were gathered there, talking and laughing in small groups. Mother and Father stood at the center of it all, engaged in cheerful conversation with their peers. To the left, tables had been arranged and covered in food. The whole setup was simple but warm, the kind of humble rural celebration that didn't need to be flashy to feel full.
Beyond them, the horizon stretched out, showing the scattered houses of our village. Lanterns flickered to life along rooftops and porches as the sky deepened into evening. The dirt path leading out of the village was slowly being swallowed by shadows. Nothing seemed out of place.
And yet, there I was. Alone again.
Alone.. with my thoughts.
Not that it was unusual. I had spent most of my life like this. Dark rooms, quiet corners, nobody knocking. I had gotten used to the silence. Embraced it, even.
But every now and then, the silence gave too much room for thoughts to crawl in.
I leaned against the windowsill, resting my arms on the wood. My eyes traced the line of the horizon again.
I missed technology. I missed screens, electric lights, headphones, the internet. I missed air conditioning. God, I missed air conditioning.
If I had only studied engineering or software instead of chemistry, maybe I could be doing something about that now. Maybe I could have figured out a way to bring even basic tech back into this new life..
But I hadn't. I had made plenty of wrong choices..
Ughhhhhh...
A bitter chuckle escaped me as I hung my head. My past life had been one bad decision after another. Just a long, depressing line of failures strung together with wishful thinking.
I slapped a palm against my forehead, remembering all the shameful moments. All the things I could have done differently. Despite my dream jobs were taken by other people.. Other races that were better than me, I could've just.. not give up, and maybe my dream as a chemist could've been fulfilled.. But, I just.. gave up in the end and became a total loser.
"Ugh... Paul, you absolute idiot," I muttered, dragging my hand down my face.
When you're alone in a party like this, surrounded by joy but not part of it, you start thinking too much. You start remembering everything you wish you could forget. And no matter how much you try to distract yourself, it creeps back in.
I groaned and gently knocked my forehead against the windowsill. The wood was cool against my skin, grounding me just enough to avoid spiraling too far.
Then I heard it. A voice, faint but clear, rising from the front of the house.
"Kyro!"
My eyes widened. I looked down through the window.. It was Onnie.
She stood just outside the door, her black hair reflecting the lantern light, her hands clasped politely in front of her.
"Onnie?" I blinked in surprise.
She smiled. "Can I come in?" she called, her voice soft but certain.
I stammered, caught completely off guard. "Uh… Y-yeah! Sure!"
I backed away from the window in a rush, nearly knocking over the small wooden table behind me. My heart pounded — not from embarrassment, but from the sheer surprise that she had called out to me. Just a few minutes ago, I had been sulking alone in my thoughts. Now they vanished like smoke in the wind.
I left the study room and moved quickly down the hall, eager to greet her at the front door. But by the time I reached the living room, she was already inside, standing there like a guest who wasn't sure if she was welcome yet.
"Welcome to my humble abode!" I announced, puffing my chest like I was some kind of grand host. My tone was playful, almost theatrical, though I knew I didn't fool her one bit.
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes still shut in that serene way of hers. She scanned the room with her senses, not needing sight to take in her surroundings.
"You live in a cute house," she said, her voice soft and genuine.
"Cute?" I raised an eyebrow. "Wait—does that mean your house is bigger than mine?"
She fidgeted, her fingers lightly twirling a strand of her hair. "M-mine's… yeah. I think my room might be bigger than your entire house."
My jaw nearly dropped. I coughed into my hand to mask my disbelief. "Well, look at you, Lady Royalty," I muttered under my breath, only half-joking. She gave a small smile but didn't deny it. A short silence followed before I broke it.
"I thought you'd still be playing with Lyra and her whole crew out back," I said, scratching my cheek.
"Mmm… I kinda just slipped away," she replied with a small shrug.
For a moment, we simply stood there, looking at each other. Then, as if on cue, we both chuckled at the same time. It was light, easy, and surprisingly comfortable. Before I could say anything else, the front door creaked open again. This time, it was my mother. She stepped in carrying a stack of empty dishes. Her eyes scanned the room and landed on us.
"Oh, hello, Onnie. Kyro." she greeted, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
"H-hello, Kyro's mother," Onnie said with a small bow, her tone turning shy in an instant.
"Hi, Mom. Let me help you with those," I offered, moving toward her.
"No, no, I've got it," she said, already heading for the kitchen. I followed her with my eyes as she deposited the plates into the stone sink. She wiped her hands dry with a cloth tucked into her apron and came back to us.
Then she looked at Onnie again, and a knowing smirk crept across her lips. "Are you enjoying the party, Onnie?" she asked warmly.
"Y-yes, ma'am," Onnie replied quickly, bowing her head a little lower.
"My name's Reyna. You don't have to call me ma'am. Feel free to explore the house if you'd like. Just don't go into my room," she said, her voice teasing as she gave me a wink.
I rolled my eyes. "Really, Mom?"
She gave a soft laugh and waved us off. "Alright. Enjoy yourselves, you two."
After she left, Onnie and I exchanged glances before breaking into another smile. Whatever tension was in the air dissolved. Later, we found ourselves up on the roof, lying on the warm wood as the night breeze drifted gently over us. The stars above were clearer than anything I'd ever seen back in my old life. No city lights. No smog. Just endless clusters of silver against a canvas of deep indigo.
I lay flat on my back, hands behind my head. Onnie rested beside me, eyes closed as always, pretending to gaze at the stars with me. Of course, I knew she couldn't see them. Her mana sense could extend far, but not far enough to touch the skies. Maybe she could detect a flock of birds flying overhead, or feel the outline of the clouds, but space? That was too distant. Her mana would burn out well before reaching anywhere near the edge of the atmosphere.
Still, she made the effort to face the sky, as if she could picture it based on my words alone.
"That one over there is shining real bright," I said, pointing upward. I saw her head tilt slightly, following my gesture by sensing the shift in my arm's movement.
I pointed again, this time to the left. "And over there. Another glowing star."
"Woah…" she breathed, voice filled with wonder.
"And look! A comet!" I raised my arm high, tracing the faint trail it left in the night sky. Her face turned with me, her ears catching the excitement in my voice.
"That's so cool," she said softly.
We fell quiet after that, listening to the hum of distant laughter from the backyard and the gentle rustle of the wind. The stars above continued to twinkle like tiny spirits.
Then she spoke. "I read about stars in a book once. It said they're servants of the gods, placed in the sky to watch over us from the heavens."
I chuckled under my breath. Of course, it would say that. This world had its myths and legends —romantic, mystical explanations that I couldn't help but poke holes through.
"Mmm… not exactly," I replied. "Stars are… massive celestial bodies made of gas. Mostly hydrogen. They float around in space, and inside them, a process called nuclear fusion takes place. That's where hydrogen atoms fuse into helium, and that fusion releases a ton of energy. That's what makes them glow."
She turned her head toward me, her closed eyes showing surprise even without pupils.
I didn't stop. I was already rambling without me noticing.
"Stars are essential for life. Without them, the universe would be a cold, empty place. And like all things, they die too. Some shrink down into something called white dwarfs. Others explode and become black holes."
I glanced over to see if she was even following.
"Our sun is a star, too," I added.
There was a long pause. Onnie was staring at me — or at least, facing me — with a stunned expression. Her mouth was slightly open, brows slightly lifted. "The sun… is a star?" she asked slowly, as if trying to process the words.
We were silent for a moment before I scratched my head with an awkward glance. "Sorry. I guess I went overboard."
"No, no," she said quickly. "I'm actually really curious. Could you… explain more?"
I blinked, surprised. Most people would have tuned out halfway through, but she genuinely looked interested. She even scooted a little closer to me, eager for more.
Huh. She really was something else.
Smart. Curious. Always paying attention. It wasn't just the way she carried herself, or how quickly she picked up on things like chess or strategy games — it was the way she always wanted to learn more. Even if she couldn't see the world, she still wanted to understand it.
She was like me. For real, for real.
[End]