The process felt like a silent lightning strike. There was no sound, no light, just the sensation of raw data sentence structures, verb conjugations, strange idioms being forced into Kenzo's auditory cortex. For a few minutes that felt like an eternity, his head throbbed intensely. Then, silence.
He was awakened by voices outside his hut. Usually, they were just an indistinct murmur, the background noise of a life he couldn't follow. But this time, it was different.
"...the wood is starting to rot. We'll need at least three more logs before the rainy season," a deep, gruff voice Borin's remarked.
"I'll prepare a wood-strengthening poultice this afternoon," replied a softer, more soothing voice Elara's. "After I've checked on Kael's bandages."
The words were clear. Perfect. Kenzo understood every syllable. The sense of alienation that had been his protective blanket was suddenly lifted, leaving him exposed to the world around him in a new and intimidating way. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the hut.
Borin and Elara, who were talking near the communal fire pit, turned as he approached. They gave him their usual friendly nods.
"Good morning," Kenzo said, his voice a little stiff, the Tragam words feeling strange on his own tongue.
A stunned silence fell over them both. Borin nearly dropped the small axe he was sharpening. Elara covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"You... you can speak?" Borin asked, his voice sounding foolish with surprise.
Kenzo offered a small smile. "A little. I've been listening a lot while I've been here." It was a small lie, but easier than explaining the AI in his head.
Elara laughed in relief, her smile as warm as the morning sun. "Thank the spirits," she said. "Now we can finally thank you properly." The warmth in her voice was genuine, and for the first time, Kenzo felt he wasn't just seen as a "useful asset," but as a person.
That evening, that gratitude took a more tangible form. Kael, his arm still bandaged from the fight with the Stone Boars, approached him. "Kenzo," he said with a hint of awkwardness. "Eat with us tonight. It's not much, just a simple stew. Lina keeps asking about you."
Kael's home was small and simple, but clean and filled with warmth from the hearth. The aroma of stewed meat and root vegetables filled the air. Lina, who had previously only stared at Kenzo with a child's curiosity, could now bombard him with endless questions.
"Big brother Kenzo, why is your hair so black? Is there no sun where you come from?" "Big brother Kenzo, is it true you can make fire with just one word?"
Kenzo, unaccustomed to this kind of interaction, answered a bit stiffly, but Kael just chuckled. "Forgive her," Kael said as he placed a hot bowl of stew in front of Kenzo. "She's never met a stranger before."
In the middle of the meal, Kael watched the way Lina ate with gusto, occasionally stuffing a large piece of potato into her mouth. a sad, warm smile touched his face. "She has her mother's appetite," he said quietly, more to himself than anyone.
Kenzo stopped chewing.
Kael seemed to realize he'd spoken aloud. "Sorry," he said. "My wife... she passed away giving birth to Lina. She was a strong woman. Always made sure everyone ate their fill, even if she had to go without."
Seeing the genuine bond between father and daughter before him, a long-locked door inside Kenzo creaked open. The image of his exhausted mother, the image of his strong older brother's back, flashed in his mind.
"I... had an older brother," Kenzo said, his voice softer than he intended. "He was the same way. Always made sure I got the biggest piece of meat, even if he was the hungriest."
It was the first personal thing he had ever revealed in this world. Kael looked at him, not with pity, but with a deep understanding. A silent bond of sympathy formed between them over the simple dinner table. That night, Kenzo didn't just fill his stomach; he filled a void in his heart he had long ignored.
Several days later, life in the village had settled into a calming routine for Kenzo. That peace, however, was broken by the frantic sound of the warning horn. Not a major attack, but a real threat. A Shadow Wolf, a forest predator known for its cunning and speed, had somehow slipped past the trench and was now stalking near the livestock pen.
The hunters, including Borin and Kael, reacted immediately. They formed a half-circle, their spears pointed forward, moving with a coordination born of experience. Kenzo took a position behind them, his hands ready to cast a spell if needed.
In the middle of the tense standoff, a trembling, panicked voice shattered their concentration.
"Don't take the risk! Just throw one of the goats at it! Maybe it will take it and leave! Our lives are more valuable!"
It was Elder Garek. He stood far in the back, his face pale, pointing a shaking hand at the livestock pen.
Borin, without turning his head, snapped back in a low, furious voice. "We don't sacrifice anything or anyone, Garek! Stand down!"
The wolf was eventually driven off after a short, fierce skirmish, leaving Kael with a new scratch on his arm but no one seriously harmed. As the tension subsided, everyone looked at Garek with a mixture of disgust and pity. The elder could only look down in shame and slip away.
That night, as Kenzo looked out over the village, he reflected on the day's events. He had seen the incredible bravery and solidarity of people ready to risk their lives to protect what was theirs. But he had also seen the shadow of a deep fear in Garek a fear so great it made him willing to sacrifice the weak for his own safety.
He had found a home, a community that had accepted him. But he realized that even in the most peaceful home, there were unseen cracks, ones that could shatter under the right amount of pressure.