A week had already passed.
A week since the world I knew had shattered into pieces, forcing me to walk upon something real, tangible, and imperfect.
A week since the palace, its polished walls and controlled silence, had been left behind.
Yeana and I had rented a farm for a month.
It wasn't a luxurious residence, nor was it anything worthy of nobility. It was a simple structure made of thick stone and dark wood, built on a wide stretch of land that seemed to disappear into the horizon.
The soil was fertile and dark, carrying that damp scent that lingered in the air—something that could never be found in the artificial gardens of the capital.
We were in a remote area.
Far too far from the main roads.
Far too insignificant to attract attention.
Perfect.
The farm had fields ready for harvest, a small storage building, and an empty stable that creaked whenever the night wind passed through it.
Nothing extravagant.
Nothing suspicious.
Exactly what Yeana had been looking for.
I took advantage of the surroundings from the very first day.
If I was going to stay away from the palace, away from the laboratories, away from the eyes that watched me as though I were an object… then I could at least try to understand myself.
My affinity with earth.
Until then, I had only been able to use two elements with any degree of ease: air and fire.
And even then, only to a limited extent.
In both cases, my magic manifested solely for healing.
Closing wounds.
Regenerating tissue.
Accelerating the body's natural processes.
Never for attacking.
Never for creating.
But earth…
Earth was different.
The first time it happened, it was almost by accident.
I stood barefoot on the ground, my cloak resting on a nearby rock. My black curls, as unruly as ever, were carelessly tied back so they wouldn't get in my way.
My brown skin contrasted against the pale soil clinging to my ankles as I took a deep breath, trying to feel the pulse of the ground beneath my feet.
I wasn't attempting anything complicated.
I was just… listening.
Then I felt something answer.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't soft.
It was heavy.
A dense, profound pressure, as if the ground didn't merely recognize me, but was pushing me to do something with it.
I extended my hand.
And metal emerged.
At first, I thought I was mistaken.
A dull glimmer broke through the surface of the earth, deforming it as though something solid were forcing its way up from the depths.
I knelt down, incredulous, and carefully brushed away the dirt surrounding whatever had appeared.
Silver.
Pure.
Cold.
Perfect.
It wasn't a natural vein.
It wasn't embedded in anything or connected to anything else.
It was something I had created.
My breathing became uneven.
I tried again.
This time, I focused.
The result was different.
Iron.
Then gold.
Different metals, all solid, all real.
And the most disturbing part…
They remained.
They didn't disappear.
They didn't decay.
They didn't lose their shape.
This wasn't transmutation.
It was creation.
The magic wasn't healing anything.
It wasn't correcting an imbalance.
It was making something exist that hadn't existed before.
When Yeana saw it for the first time, she froze.
Her figure stood out even in a place as rustic as this. Her long, straight gray hair fell over her shoulders like a curtain of ash. Her wolf ears twitched slightly, alert, revealing an interest that went far beyond simple curiosity.
Her white, colorless eyes reflected the light of the metal with a faint gleam that didn't go unnoticed.
It wasn't surprise.
It was calculation.
"These things…" she murmured, crouching down to examine the metal. "I can sell them at the market."
She lifted a fragment between her fingers.
"They're pure metal."
Then she looked at me.
"But… why does your magic work like this?"
I didn't know what to say.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I thought I might be able to grow plants or something. That would make sense, right?"
Yeana gave me a sideways smile.
"With magic, almost nothing works the way it 'should.'"
She carefully stored the metal away, already looking as though she were calculating trade routes, intermediaries, and prices.
"Well," she added, "we'll figure that out later."
That sentence…
It unsettled me more than it should have.
Because for the first time since I arrived in this world, my magic wasn't merely useful.
It was dangerous.
Thanks to what I could create, our life on the farm changed quickly.
We didn't live like nobles, but we weren't poor farmers either. By selling small quantities without attracting suspicion, Yeana managed to earn enough to cover food, supplies, and keep us comfortable.
It was a fragile balance.
And I knew it.
Even so, something inside me still didn't feel at peace.
I had always felt… limited.
Useless, even.
My power was immense. I knew that.
Everyone knew it.
But without control, without clear intent, without an immediate purpose…
Now, for the first time, something I could do had a direct impact.
And yet…
I couldn't ignore the doubt that had settled in my chest.
The things I created from metal were simple objects.
Ingots.
Plates.
Basic shapes.
Things I knew.
That made me think.
If I could create what I knew…
Then I could create weapons.
The thought struck me like lightning.
Swords.
Blades.
Points.
Armor.
My mind began searching through memories from another life.
Documentaries.
Books.
Casual conversations.
I wasn't an expert.
But I knew more than this world assumed a "useless human" could possibly know.
I clenched my fists.
Was there any weapon I actually knew how to use?
No.
There wasn't.
I had never held a real weapon.
I had never trained.
That realization brought me abruptly back to reality.
I could create something lethal…
but I had no way to defend myself with it.
I was still vulnerable.
I still depended on Yeana.
The difference was that now, that dependence carried far greater consequences.
I sat at the edge of the field at sunset, my cloak draped over my shoulders, watching the sun paint the earth in shades of gold.
My hands still carried traces of metallic dust.
The contrast against my brown skin was striking, almost symbolic.
Creation without control.
Power without direction.
Maybe…
Maybe this world hadn't given me healing so I could save others.
Maybe it had given me creation so I could survive.
And that thought…
It frightened me.
But for the first time since I had awakened in this world…
It also made me feel alive.