Morning mist clung to the village fields like a silver blanket when Ren stepped outside, stretching stiff muscles that felt as if they had been tied in knots and then trampled by a herd of oxen.
He muttered, "Every day hurts more than the last."
A voice replied instantly, "That means you're USING your body!"
Miro appeared from behind a fence, carrying what looked like a basket full of random objects—stones, sticks, something that might have been a potato, and something Ren sincerely hoped was not a bone.
Ren blinked. "Miro… why do you have those?"
"Training props!" Miro declared proudly. "Nima said today is 'precision day,' so I made PRECISION THINGS."
Tali marched over with a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Miro, those are NOT precision things."
"Yes they are!" Miro defended himself. "Look—this stone is for throwing! This stick is for balancing! This potato is—"
"Ew!" Tali yelped. "That potato is ROTTEN!"
Miro sniffed it. "It's training for my NOSE."
Ren sighed. "Can we please not start the day with biological warfare?"
Just then, Rina approached with a calm smile and a tray of tea. "Good morning, everyone. Ren, drink this. You'll need your mind sharp today."
Ren accepted the warm cup. "What's happening exactly?"
Dano joined them, arms folded. "Nima wants to test your awareness. Yesterday was movement and observation. Today is seeing without relying on your eyes."
Ren nearly dropped the cup. "What does that even mean?"
Suri answered as she approached. "You'll understand soon. Finish your tea."
Emi, walking beside her, added softly, "Don't worry. You'll be safe."
Miro grinned. "Safe-ish."
Tali punched him. "STOP scaring him!"
---
The villagers gathered in the training field. Nima stood at the center with her staff planted into the earth. Her eyes turned to Ren, full of soft firmness.
"Today," she said, "you will learn to sense movement, intent, and presence. Not perfectly—but enough to begin."
Ren swallowed. "All right."
Nima gestured for him to stand before her. "Close your eyes."
He did.
"Listen," Nima said.
Ren tried. He heard wind rushing through crops, the buzz of insects, distant footsteps, someone whispering, and Miro loudly failing to whisper.
"Don't push your attention outward," Nima said gently. "Let sound come to you."
Ren inhaled, letting the noise settle instead of chasing it.
"Good," Nima said. "Now… move left."
Ren stepped left instinctively.
Suri exclaimed, "He avoided it!"
Tali cheered, "YES!"
Ren opened his eyes. A small pebble lay where he had been standing.
Ren blinked. "Someone… threw that?"
Haru raised his hand. "I did! Nima told me to aim for your shoe!"
Ren looked at Nima. "You didn't tell me someone would THROW things at me."
Nima smiled serenely. "Life rarely tells you what it plans to throw."
Miro nodded sagely. "She means pots."
Ren groaned.
"Close your eyes again," Nima instructed.
He did.
"Move right."
Ren moved right—and heard a stick swish past where his head had been.
Jinto's tired voice floated from somewhere. "That… was supposed to hit your shoulder. I missed."
Rina shouted, "JINTO!"
"Sorry…"
Ren asked nervously, "Are all of you really going to throw stuff at me?"
Dano answered, "Yes."
Tali added, "But only SMALL stuff!"
Miro grinned. "Except the big bucket."
"Miro, NO!" Suri snapped.
At Nima's instruction, Ren closed his eyes again.
The next thirty minutes were chaos—organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless. Pebbles flew, sticks swung, ropes whipped, baskets dropped, and once, a chicken escaped from somewhere and ran under Ren's legs.
Miro shouted, "DON'T STEP ON IT!"
Tali wailed, "REN WATCH THE CHICKEN!"
Ren danced, stumbled, lurched, and barely avoided everything thrown his way, not through skill but through panicked instinct and a growing ability to catch the direction of sounds and movement.
By the time Nima called, "Enough," Ren dropped to the ground, exhausted.
Miro flopped beside him. "You did great!"
Tali plopped down on his other side. "You didn't even cry!"
"I almost did," Ren wheezed.
Rina approached with a towel. "You improved quickly. You're starting to feel instead of think."
Ren wiped sweat from his forehead. "It feels like luck."
Nima knelt before him. "Luck is only understanding you don't yet understand."
Ren blinked. "…I'll pretend that makes sense."
Suri laughed softly. "It made sense to her. That's enough."
---
After a break, the second part of training began.
Taro marched forward with a heavy sack slung over his shoulder. "REN! Welcome to PHASE TWO!"
Ren flinched. "What's in the sack?"
"MULTIPLE THINGS."
Suri stepped in quickly. "Ren, don't worry. Taro is supervised."
Dano muttered, "Barely."
Taro opened the sack dramatically and dumped its contents on the ground. Ren recoiled.
Inside were dozens of objects: rocks, apples, sticks, a scroll, a brush, a cup, a mask, and something that looked suspiciously like a toy sword.
Taro announced proudly, "Object recognition!"
Ren stared. "Object what?"
Rina explained, "You'll reach into the sack, touch something, and describe it WITHOUT looking."
"But why?" Ren asked.
Emi answered, "Awareness begins with noticing tiny details."
Jinto yawned. "Also, Taro collected all this junk and we need to make it useful."
Taro glared. "It's NOT junk. It's ARTIFACTS!"
Miro whispered to Ren, "They're junk."
Ren rubbed his temples.
Nima nodded toward the sack. "Begin."
Ren reached in, feeling something round and slightly warm. "It's… round? Smooth? Apple?"
Rina nodded. "Correct."
Next object: cold, narrow, with small ridges. "Uh… brush?"
Emi smiled. "Yes."
Next: heavy, rough, flat on one side. "Stone?"
"Correct," Dano said.
Next: long, curved, hollow in the middle—Ren frowned.
Tali whispered excitedly, "Guess!"
Ren said, "Is this… the mask?"
Taro gasped. "Incredible!"
Miro shouted, "He's cheating!"
Ren yelled back, "How could I cheat?! My eyes are closed!"
Miro crossed his arms. "Still suspicious."
After thirty minutes, Ren had guessed nearly everything correctly—except the toy sword, which he mistook for a bent stick.
Taro fell to his knees. "YOU INSULTED THE SACRED WEAPON!"
Tali smacked him. "It's a TOY."
Taro sobbed dramatically. "A sacred toy!"
Ren looked at Nima helplessly. "I'm… improving?"
Nima nodded. "Yes. You're learning to use what you have instead of longing for what you don't."
Ren breathed slowly and nodded.
---
Later that afternoon, Nima took Ren away from the noisy training field and led him to a quiet glade behind the village.
The air was still there, trees forming a natural perimeter. Birds hopped on branches. Leaves rustled faintly.
Nima sat on a smooth stone. "Here we practice stillness."
Ren sat across from her. "Stillness after all that chaos?"
"Especially after chaos," Nima replied. "Chaos is easy. Stillness is not."
Ren nodded slowly.
"Close your eyes," Nima instructed.
Ren obeyed.
"Now," Nima said softly, "tell me… what do you feel?"
Ren listened.
He felt his heartbeat, uneven from earlier exertion. His breath, a little shaky. His muscles sore. His mind cloudy and buzzing with everything that had happened.
"I feel… tired," Ren said.
Nima nodded. "Good. What else?"
Ren hesitated. "The ground under me. Cool. Solid. My back is tight. Shoulders too."
"Go deeper," Nima said.
Ren listened again.
He felt a faint warmth in his chest—not strong, not bright, but present.
"I feel… something," Ren whispered. "Inside. Small. Like a spark."
Nima smiled lightly. "Good. That is the beginning of awareness."
Ren breathed slowly, trying to keep the spark in his perception.
Wind brushed the leaves.
Ren flinched.
Nima said gently, "Don't chase the sound. Let it exist. You stay still."
Ren focused again.
The spark steadied.
Not stronger.
Not clearer.
But steadier.
After several minutes, Nima said, "Open your eyes."
Ren did. The world felt slightly sharper. Colors richer. Distances clearer.
Ren whispered, "What… was that?"
"Your mind settling," Nima replied. "Once the mind stops running, it can begin to understand."
Ren nodded slowly. "Then I want to practice it more."
Nima gave a faint smile. "You will."
---
When they returned to the village, the square was bustling with activity.
Children ran around shouting, "REN! REN! Tell us what you learned!"
Miro bounced up and down. "Did you learn how to dodge better?"
Tali said proudly, "He already dodged AMAZINGLY!"
Haru held up a bucket. "Do you want to practice with water next?! We can throw it at you!"
Suri grabbed the bucket. "NO."
Ren laughed weakly. "Please don't throw anything wet at me."
Rina clapped her hands. "Dinner is ready! Everyone inside!"
The villagers flocked toward the tables eagerly.
Ren followed, feeling strangely lighter—not physically, but internally.
At the table, Jinto leaned over and sniffed Ren. "You smell like fear."
Rina smacked him. "You always smell like seaweed."
Jinto shrugged. "Fair."
As bowls of rice, stew, vegetables, and fish were placed around the table, the chatter grew lively.
Miro gestured wildly as he described Ren's training earlier. "He dodged EVERY rock! Except the one that hit his foot!"
"It barely hit me," Ren protested.
Tali added, "He crossed the mud pit yesterday too! And he didn't fall!"
"MIRACULOUS," Haru said in awe.
Emi smiled softly. "Ren is becoming more aware."
Dano nodded. "He listens now. Before, he flailed."
Ren pointed at him. "I STILL flail."
"Yes," Dano agreed, "but with purpose."
Ren laughed.
Nima observed quietly, but her eyes glimmered.
After dinner, lanterns lit the village with warm golden light. The sounds of evening chores drifted through the air. Children played until Rina scolded them.
Ren walked away from the crowd and sat on a fence near the fields. The sky stretched endlessly above him, stars like scattered diamonds.
He exhaled.
Then he felt a tug on his sleeve.
Tali climbed onto the fence beside him. "Ren?"
Ren smiled. "Hey."
"Today you did good," she said softly. "Really good."
Ren rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks. I'm trying."
"I know," she replied. "Everyone sees it."
He blinked. "Everyone?"
Tali kicked her feet. "Yep. You work hard. You're getting better. And you don't quit even when you fall or almost fall or totally fall."
"That last part was unnecessary."
She giggled.
Miro appeared suddenly, hopping onto the fence. "REN! TOMORROW, WE RACE AGAIN!"
Ren groaned. "I need new legs."
Miro pointed triumphantly. "THAT means you will LOSE."
Tali punched him. "NO IT DOESN'T!"
"Yes it DOES!"
"No it DOESN'T!"
Ren sighed deeply. "Every night with you two…"
They both clung to him from either side, continuing to argue until their voices faded into laughter.
Ren looked up at the stars again.
His body hurt.
His mind was tired.
His breath was uneven.
But something inside felt alive.
The tiny spark he'd sensed earlier… it was still there. Warm. Present. Waiting.
He didn't know what it would become.
He only knew he would keep going.
Step by step.
Effort by effort.
Day by day.
He whispered to himself, unheard by anyone else:
"I'll make something of this."
And as the night deepened, Ren felt, for the first time since arriving in this world, a quiet certainty—
He belonged on this path.