The following days saw Pipkin observing Lumi with a newfound intensity. He noticed the way she interacted with the plants, almost as if she were listening to them. He saw the subtle shifts in the air around her when she worked with certain herbs, a faint shimmer that hinted at a natural affinity for magic.
One afternoon, while helping her organize her drying herbs, Lumi paused, her gaze fixed on Pipkin. "You seem… preoccupied lately, Pipkin. Is everything alright?" Her tone was gentle, but her eyes held that same perceptive quality he'd noticed before.
Pipkin, caught off guard, stammered, "Uh, yes. Fine. Just… thinking."
Lumi raised a delicate eyebrow. "Thinking about what?"
He hesitated. How could he explain the strange blue boxes only he could see, the faint echoes of a past life he couldn't fully recall? He settled for a half-truth. "About… about the woods. And the different energies."
Lumi's expression softened, a hint of understanding in her eyes. "You sense it too, then?"
Pipkin's heart skipped a beat. "Sense what?"
"The flow," she said, her voice dropping slightly. "The subtle currents that run through the forest, through everything. Not everyone can feel them."
[Dialogue with Lumi Nymphaea]
[Potential Insight: Shared Sensory Perception +0.005]
The "System" notification was more significant than usual. Shared sensory perception? Could Lumi somehow perceive the magical energies in a way that aligned with his own dulled godly senses?
"It's… faint," Pipkin admitted cautiously. "Like whispers."
Lumi nodded slowly. "Indeed. And sometimes… sometimes those whispers carry echoes." She looked directly at him, her gaze unwavering. "Have you ever felt… echoes, Pipkin? Feelings that don't quite belong to the present?"
Xylos felt a jolt, a sudden surge of fragmented memories – the roar of his ocean, the cold, crushing pressure of the deep, the weight of godly responsibility. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "Sometimes… fleetingly. Like a dream I can't quite grasp."
Lumi's expression grew more intent. "Dreams can be more than just fleeting images, Pipkin. Sometimes, they are remnants. Fragments of something… older." She paused, then asked a question that made Xylos's breath catch in his throat. "Have you ever felt… a connection to water, Pipkin? A pull, perhaps?"
The "System" flared, a series of rapid notifications:
[Direct Inquiry Regarding Water Affinity]
[Potential Trigger: Dormant Memories]
[Relationship with Lumi Nymphaea: Increased Curiosity]
He had to be careful. Revealing anything too much could lead to questions he couldn't answer. "I… I like the brook," he said simply. "It's peaceful."
Lumi studied him for a long moment, her silence heavy with unspoken questions. Finally, she sighed softly. "It is peaceful. And the water holds many secrets, Pipkin. More than most realize." She changed the subject, pointing to a rare bluebell blossom nestled amongst the other herbs. "Do you know the properties of this one?"
Though the conversation moved on, Lumi's questions lingered in Pipkin's mind. She was perceptive, far more so than the other villagers. She sensed the subtle energies, she spoke of echoes of the past, and she had directly inquired about his connection to water. Was it possible that she could somehow sense the faded remnants of his divine nature?
As they continued their work, Pipkin couldn't shake the feeling that Lumi Nymphaea was more than just a kind herbalist. She was a keen observer, a seeker of hidden knowledge, and perhaps, unknowingly, a key to unlocking the useless god within the weakling's frame. He knew he had to be cautious, but a fragile seed of hope had been planted. Perhaps he wasn't as alone in this strange new world as he thought.