Kael woke to the gentle sounds of the town—the soft chatter of merchants, the clatter of carts on cobblestones, and the occasional squawk of birds disputing their perches. The pod's hum had long faded, replaced by the lively rhythm of streets outside.
He blinked at the ceiling above him, plain and wooden, not the sterile metal walls of the pod. For a moment he lay still, listening. The scent of baked bread drifted faintly through the small window. Children's laughter carried from somewhere nearby. His chest rose with a hesitant breath. This… is real. This is not the pod anymore.
The small room he had been given was modest but surprisingly cozy: a simple bed, a wooden table, and a narrow window that opened onto a quiet alley where laundry lines swayed in the morning breeze. Kael hadn't arranged any of this himself. Yesterday, when the night had grown late and he had nowhere to go, Lusia had taken charge. She had spoken with the innkeeper in her calm, confident way, explaining him as a "lost tourist" who had been separated from his group. The innkeeper had nodded and, though curious, accepted the story.
Kael had barely managed a proper "thank you." He was so much tired that he couldn't even speak clearly and say thank you to the employees. Ever since after waking up kael was struck by the fact that someone—a stranger—had chosen to help him.
Now he stood by the doorway of the room, gathering the courage to step out. His body still felt unsteady, as though it remembered centuries of stillness. Yet his heart urged him forward.
The streets greeted him with warmth and noise. Merchants arranged fruits in neat pyramids. Bakers pulled steaming loaves from ovens and handed them to eager children waiting with small cloth bags. Men carried barrels across cobbled alleys, their boots striking in rhythm with the rolling of cartwheels. Life here was not rushed, but it pulsed with order, as though every person knew their place in this living tapestry.
"Morning!"
The familiar voice cut through the noise. Kael turned to see Lusia leaning casually against a post ahead, her slightly curly hair glinting gold in the sunlight. Her smile was easy, her tone light, yet something about her presence steadied him.
"Morning," he answered, his voice still a little stiff.
She came close, close enough to make kael feel anxious. Her eyes staring at him as if she is waiting for a answer.
"Wh—what happened?" kael asked with hesitation.
Lusia replied with a very disappointed face "Hmm so you don't want to tell your name."
Kael realised that he had never told his name to her and even got help from her. He felt embarrassing for forgetting to even telling her his name even after she helped him last night. I really am a fool, aren't I.
With a regretful face he finally introduced himself with a apology. "Sorry, I forgot to even introduce myself. My name is Kael Apograntis, nice to meet you... Lusia"
She accepted his apology with a polite reply "Nice to meet you Kael."
Her reply made kael feel at ease. Thank God. He was happy that Lusia was not angry or upset about his foolish work since she is the only one he knows so far.
Kael's expression felt relaxed now and so Lusia tilted her head, grinning. "Ready to survive your first day here?"
Kael gave a short, nervous laugh. "I guess… though I'm not sure what 'surviving' means here yet."
"Don't worry," she said, walking up and—without hesitation—looping an arm around his shoulders. He stiffened slightly, unaccustomed to such casual closeness, but her gesture carried no hesitation. "Step one: don't break anything. Step two: don't upset the merchants. Step three: repeat step one and two until you stop looking like you're about to fall over."
Kael exhaled a laugh despite himself. Somehow, she made the rules sound less like warnings and more like gentle jokes.
Their walk through the streets turned into a series of small lessons. Kael almost tipped over a crate of apples stacked high at a corner stall, earning a sharp look from the vendor. Before Kael could panic, Lusia had already stepped in, bowing her head slightly. "My fault, sir, I should've warned him. He's new." Her grin disarmed the moment, and the vendor's scowl softened into a mutter about "young wanderers."
At another stall, Kael misread a sign and stepped forward to handle goods without asking. The merchant frowned, folding her arms. Kael froze, words failing him. Lusia slid between them with an easy laugh. "He thought it said 'free samples.' Don't blame him." The merchant shook her head, half amused, half annoyed, and waved him off.
Kael glanced at her as they walked on. "Do you always… save people like this?"
"Only the ones worth saving." She smirked, then gave his shoulder a small push. "Relax. People here may look stern, but they're not unkind. They just like things done properly. You'll get it."
Between mishaps, Lusia explained more about the town. "Education's important here," she said as they passed a stone building with tall windows where children filed in carrying books. "Even outsiders like you—if you stay long enough—can join classes. They don't want anyone missing knowledge. It's kind of… sacred here."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Even for tourists?"
"Even for tourists," she confirmed with a laugh. "Think of it as extended tourism—with homework."
Kael let out a breath somewhere between disbelief and wonder. The idea of a place that insisted even temporary visitors learn… it felt strange, yet oddly reassuring.
By midday, Kael had begun to pick up on patterns: how to pay correctly, how to bow his head briefly when receiving goods, how to keep to the left side of narrow alleys. He still stumbled, but Lusia was patient, guiding him with little nudges and jokes that softened each mistake.
At the market square, the noise rose in a cheerful hum. Stalls overflowed with bright fabrics, jars of honey, and carved trinkets. The air smelled of roasted nuts and sweet bread. Kael's eyes darted everywhere, trying to absorb it all. He almost missed the moment when Lusia's pace slowed.
A voice called out—light, familiar, warm. "Lusia!"
Two girls waved from across the square. One had short black hair tied with a red ribbon—Mia. The other, taller with a calm face and long braids—Ako. Lusia's face brightened. She lifted her hand in return and hurried forward.
Kael stopped a few steps back. Instinct held him still. He watched as Lusia greeted her friends, laughing easily, slipping into a rhythm that came naturally to her. For a moment, Kael felt like an outsider again, not because they ignored him, but because he didn't yet know how to belong in such scenes. Friendship was… unfamiliar.
He leaned quietly against a post, choosing not to intrude. The girls laughed together, sharing quick words Kael couldn't catch through the noise of the market. Lusia's gestures were animated, her smile wide. It struck him that she wasn't just someone who helped him—she was someone with her own life, her own circle, her own world.
Soon after, she returned, cheeks still flushed with laughter. "Sorry! They caught me off guard."
Kael shook his head quickly. "No, it's fine. They're your friends, right?"
She studied him for a moment, as though curious about his tone. Then she nodded. "Yeah. Mia and Ako. We've known each other since school." She gave him a smile that felt oddly reassuring. "Don't worry, I didn't forget you. Come on, there's more I want to show you."
Their afternoon turned into small adventures. At the town fountain, Lusia showed him how locals tossed tiny coins into the water, whispering quiet wishes. Kael hesitated, then copied her, the coin slipping from his fingers and catching the sunlight before sinking. He didn't know what to wish for, so he simply thought: Let me not be lost anymore.
They fed birds near the square, tossing crumbs to pigeons that fluttered around them. Kael laughed when one bold bird landed on his arm, refusing to leave until he offered more. Lusia teased, "Guess you've made your first town friend."
Later, they climbed the steps to the Origin Temple. Its doors were carved with symbols Kael couldn't yet understand, its walls high and solemn. People moved quietly inside, bowing their heads in prayer. Kael followed Lusia's lead, unsure what the gestures meant but sensing the weight of reverence in the air.
Finally, she led him past a row of smaller shops until they reached one with colorful fabrics hanging by the entrance. "That's Granny's place," Lusia said softly. "She's the one who looks after me. You'll meet her properly soon."
Kael peered at the shop, noting the warmth in the way Lusia spoke of it. A part of him stirred—something like longing for a place to belong, even if just for a while.
As the sun dipped low, they walked back through quieter streets. Kael's steps felt less uncertain now, guided by the rhythm he had begun to notice. Lusia nudged him with her elbow. "See? Told you you'd survive the day."
Kael smiled faintly, glancing at her. "Thanks… for not letting me fall apart."
"Don't thank me yet," she teased, wrapping her arm around his neck playfully. "This is just day one. You've got a lot more to learn."
Kael let out a quiet laugh. For the first time, he didn't feel like he was drifting. He was here—walking beside someone who made this strange world feel a little less frightening.
And though he couldn't explain it, he knew this was only the beginning.