By the way — why does the air still smell so strange? At first, I thought it was because I was standing above the river, but now... it's everywhere.
Actually, it's not really a smell. More like... a new feeling. A sense. Bizarre and subtle, but constant.
As I stood there lost in thought, the girl was already walking toward me. That's when I realized I had been staring at the pot — and drooling a little.
She smiled and said something: ***** ***?
Right. I still can't understand a word. What now?
I didn't want to start my new life with a lie, but I had no choice. I pointed at my ear, then shook my head. I'd thought about crossing my arms to signal "no," but who knows if gestures mean the same here?
She lingered for a second, then made a beckoning gesture — clearly asking me to follow. So, some body language is the same.
She stopped beside a wooden stool and pointed at the ground. "Wait here?"
A few dozen seconds later, she returned carrying another stool, and a tall man followed close behind. He had a well-groomed, light-red beard and a serious expression. In his hands were a wooden board and a pair of wooden tongs. His eyes lingered on me with a hint of suspicion.
That strange feeling in the air suddenly intensified. Not quite a smell anymore — it felt like the atmosphere itself was reeking of something unseen. Then, in a moment, it dulled again — present but subdued.
The girl approached, set the stool beside me, smiled, and pointed to it. I moved to sit, but the man suddenly spoke: **** *** *** ***** **** *** *** *****?
I glanced at the girl, then back at him. I hesitated, then pointed at my ear again and shook my head.
He sighed and nodded toward the stool.
I sat. The two of them stood nearby, chatting in a language I couldn't begin to understand. They looked related. Father and daughter?
I turned my attention to the pot. Eight ears of corn boiled away, their golden silk floating lazily in the water. The girl said something to the man — her tone sounded like a question. He nodded silently.
She focused on the fire. Moments later, the flames faded away. It didn't seem like someone had extinguished them. It was more like the fire ran out of oxygen. Still, she kept focusing on the coals and ashes, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
That feeling again — that sixth sense — it had always been there, a constant presence in the background. But now it was growing stronger and clearer, like a sound that was rising in volume.
My eyes widened. It had to be. No, it must be — magic. The thing I longed for back on Earth. This was it.
The man looked at me again with narrowed eyes. Suspicion. But I pretended not to notice. Not like I could ask him anything. I didn't know a single word in their language. And I had already lied about being deaf.
The man picked up the tongs and lifted the corn from the pot one by one, setting them on the wooden board. Then he looked at me briefly, turned around, and headed for the house.
The girl smiled, stood up, and nodded toward the door.
I followed.
Inside was a simple wooden dinner table, surrounded by chairs. A woman and a child sat there already. Just like everyone else I'd seen so far, they looked... lovely. The woman seemed younger than the red-bearded man. The child — a boy, maybe four or five — stared at me with unfiltered curiosity.
The woman smiled and spoke softly. I didn't understand her either.
My introverted side started to creep back. I wasn't used to this. Being around strangers in close spaces. Being a guest.
The man sat down beside the woman — his wife, I assumed. He gestured to the seat near me.
I sat awkwardly. The girl brought out several pots, each half-filled with water, and set one near each person. I watched as the others washed their hands — and followed suit. No soap, huh? The little boy sat to my right, and the girl sat to my left.
The wooden board with the corn was placed at the center of the table. The man picked up two ears and placed them on his wife's plate, then did the same for himself. The girl took a single piece, placed it in front of her little brother, then gave me two and kept the last one for herself.
I felt awkward and ashamed. Why did I get more than her?
I tried to move one of mine to her plate, but she shook her head and offered a soft smile.
I looked around. Everyone had already started eating. So I did too.
As I took my first bite, warm juice burst from the corn. Soft, sweet, and rich — it might have been the best corn I'd ever tasted.
As I finished it, the feeling returned again — but this time, it wasn't from the air.
It was coming from inside me.
That sixth sense again... or should I say —
Mana sense?
...What kind of idiot name is that?
Well — working title.