Heron smelled smoke.

  And this time, he wasn’t the cause of the suffocating scent. The last time smoke had smelled this bad was when he had burned wet wood in the stone oven on the tiny planet. Technically, the wood wasn’t even wet—Charcoco had just sludged all over it with its slime, and when Heron had lit the wood on fire with his magical superpowers, it had resulted in a terrible stench that was a mix of smoke and a dead possum.

  Not that Heron knew what a dead possum smelled like, the slime-burning wood scent just gave dead possum vibes.

  Now, with Lucifer perched over his shoulder, the two of them had been wandering around in the lodgehouse like James had suggested, investigating every inch and corner they had access to. From the hallway outside his bedroom, a series of nine rooms were staggered and labeled one through nine, with his at the end of the hall. Three full bathrooms were located across the nine bedrooms.

  If Heron could recall correctly, he had met seven folks in Sector Nine so far.

  After returning to the living room where he had first teleported in, he found Zerif reading on the couch—his legs crossed with his book ‘The History of Magical Essence’ laid open across his lap as he turned the page slowly. On the other side of the room at a circular wooden table and stools, Desmonte was groaning over what seemed to be a chess match against Herschel, who simply hummed once while Desmonte jittered his leg and ran a hand through his hair.

  From there, Heron gave a nod to Herschel who returned the gesture, before he and Lucifer headed out the set of doors that Eugen and Larry had left through earlier after Maxwell’s outburst. Greeted by another hallway, Heron stared at a massive wall full of windows before the long, winding staircase at the end. With the outstanding view of , he could see out of the glass that they were clearly on the second floor of the tall building.

  Once he reached the bottom wooden floor of the lodge, that was when Heron smelled smoke.

  Waving his hand before his face to clear the smoke, he held back a cough as he passed the entryway of where the scent was coming from.

  “Larry! The rice is burning—“

  “I know, I know, I’m sorry!”

  “How much water did you put in this thing!?”

  As Heron entered what he presumed was the kitchen, he was met with frantic scrambling between the two men that had been sent on dinner-duty by Herschel earlier. Larry and Eugen were now desperately attempting to fan the smoke out from a nearby pot while lifting a small pitcher and pouring water into it which only made the smoke worse.

  “Stop, stop, you’re making it worse!”

  “You fool, I’m salvaging it! You didn’t add enough water, that’s why it’s burning—“

  With an exasperated sigh, Eugen poured the entire pitcher of water into the pot which only earned a yelp from Larry. With a dying, crackling sound, it now smelled of wet smoke and burnt rice. With both of his palms pressed against the edge of the sink, Eugen stared defeated at the pot while the empty pitcher sat on the counter in the most judgmental way. Larry cowered in anticipation, as if Eugen was also going to turn him into disappointment porridge.

  “Hey there, uh, need some help?” Heron broke the defeated silence, giving a friendly wave.

  The two of them flicked their heads towards him, with Larry flinching and Eugen brightening up.

  “New guy! What’s your name again? Karen?”

  “Heron.” Heron corrected before glancing past Eugen. “Having some trouble? I could smell it down the hall.”

  “No thanks—“

  “Sure, we could use a hand.” Eugen cut Larry off, before mouthing the word ‘help me’.

  Eugen is thinking he might strangle Larry since this is their second attempt at cooking rice tonight.

  Heron prayed that was a private DM from Lucifer so that there would be no whispers of homicide tonight on their first day as a farmer in Sector Nine.

  Who do you think I am? Of course I’ve got a handle on it.

  “So that’s a familiar, huh?” Eugen took a step towards Heron and Lucifer, peering closer at the white rabbit. “What’s its name?”

  None of your business—

  “His name is Lucifer.” Heron raised a brow, giving Lucifer a look on his shoulder. “Don’t mind him. He’s just a rabbit.”

  “Don’t see many rabbit familiars around.” Eugen said thoughtfully before pulling back. “Didn’t even know they could be familiars since they’re smaller animals. I’ve seen a few dog familiars, even cats. Us regular folks don’t typically have any magical essence compatibility to attract creatures who can sense magical essence.”

  “Is it really talking to us in our heads?” Larry had finally stopped cowering and just slouched with a meek look on his face.

  Yes, human, I do not have the vocal chords to speak with you aloud. Lucifer’s voice was flat as it made an irritated squeaky noise.

  Perhaps it was safe to assume that Lord Bun was not pleased with being called ‘smaller’—though it was since it was still in its rabbit form. It was probably best that they move on from this conversation, lest Eugen and Larry decide to ask further questions for Heron and his rabbit pal.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “So… rice?” Heron gestured at the sad pot that had been vanquished by Eugen moments ago.

  “Yes, rice. Before Herschel decides to give us cooking 101 again.” Eugen sighed, turning towards the pot once more.

  The kitchen was way too tight for three full-sized grown men to be bustling about.

  When Heron had burst through the entryway like a lost raccoon, it was already a tight squeeze for both Larry and Eugen who had shuffled around one another like a slide puzzle just to avoid bumping into each other when pouring water into the pot. Now with Heron added to the mix, it was as though they were playing an old-fashioned arcade game with ghosts and a pill-munching cheese wheel.

  Lanterns hung from the ceiling with a small flame inside them, lighting up the space. The kitchen itself was narrow and had two sets of long wooden counters directly across from each other. The stovetop was nothing like Heron had seen before—it was similar to the ones in his original life but it appeared to be made out of a different kind of material that seemed to resemble stone—kind of like a stone stovetop except he had no idea what it was really made of.

  Regardless, it seemed to do the job.

  The new pot of rice was now boiling accordingly with no hint of smoke and seemed to be well on its way to being perfectly well-cooked. While Heron had handled the rice, Eugen had been busy guiding—or rather, scolding—Larry over frying up some salmon, omelettes, and side platters full of colorful greens. Heron had made the effort of dodging the constant trajectory of the other men going back and forth in the kitchen space while Lucifer held on for dear life atop Heron’s shoulder.

  I demand you to let me taste test that.

  No, the rice was not done yet. Heron adjusted Lucifer from one shoulder to the other and the rabbit wrinkled its nose indignantly.

  I must ensure the dishes aren’t poisoned. Lucifer was basically salivating at this point.

  Uh, no one was going to cook food just to poison it. There were quicker ways to send oneself to the shadow realm. Heron knew that Lucifer just wanted a quick nibble but they would all have dinner together soon, it could wait.

  Finishing up the pot of rice, Heron stirred with a wooden spoon. Excellent, nothing was burnt. After setting the pot off to the side, he returned his gaze in search of something to turn the stove off.

  “All done?” Eugen appeared by his side before commanding, “Ignition Off, Stove.”

  “Yeah… did you just speak to the stove?” Heron blinked a few times as he waved his hand over the stovetop. It was certainly off.

  “Ah? Did Charles not mention commands when you met with him during the application process at the Farmer’s Guild?” Eugen cocked his head to one side.

  “No, he did.” Heron answered truthfully before continuing sheepishly, “I may have said the teleportation command before he was done speaking to me.”

  Eugen bursted laughing. “No kidding, is that why you showed up at the end of the day? Normally newcomers get to stay a night at the Farmer’s Guild lodge as a guest. It’s pretty sweet too, normally Charles hosts clients as guests when discussing a contract for a request or tourism from future prospects.”

  “So what are these commands? They seem simple enough.”

  I can see the particles. Lucifer sniffed, still draped over Heron’s shoulder.

  “You can see what?” Eugen responded, clearly surprised.

  Oh crap, were rabbit familiars not supposed to be able to see the particles of magical essence?

  I mean, it is awfully dusty here. Lucifer recovered quickly.

  Eugen blinked before continuing, “As I was saying, these commands are associated with magical essence. Any object imbued and blessed with magical essence will typically have a command coded into it. As Charles had explained it to me, think of magical essence imprinting on a set of instructions.” Then with a shrug, “that’s about all I know though, not like I know much about magic besides this.”

  He gave Heron a wicked grin before commanding, “Ignition Off, Kitchen Lights.”

  With the sudden onset of darkness paired with a yelp from Larry, Eugen’s laughter rang into the pitch black kitchen as all the lighting from the lanterns vanished alongside the command.

  “Oh my Yel, I almost chopped off my flipping finger—“

  Eugen’s prank may have been more amusing to Heron had it not been in the middle of kitchen duty or maybe if he were ten or twenty years younger; instead, the corner of his lips twitched. He didn’t know whether to be more surprised with the spark of irritation that flickered in his chest or the command that shot out of his mouth.

  “Ignition On, Kitchen Lights.”

  The lights flickered back on. Eugen was still in the middle of laughing, unaware of the spark that he had ignited in Heron for just a split second. Heron’s palms were barely slick, and it wasn’t from washing the rice. It wasn’t like him to react to a displeasing situation. Perhaps he was simply on edge from the events that had happened thus far this day.

  “Still got your fingers?” Heron glanced over to Larry who was clearly sulking from the mini-event.

  “Y-Yeah.” Larry stammered, avoiding Heron’s gaze as he returned to chopping something that resembled an apple.

  “Looks like you’ve got the right idea about commands.” Eugen grinned, giving Heron a thumbs up. “But yeah, there’s quite a few blessed items in our sector.”

  Leaning closer, Eugen whispered. “We might not look like it, but we do well enough as farmers to gain the favor of the king.”

  “What does that have to do with blessed objects?” Heron asked.

  “Well, typically they’re a quality-of-life incentive, I guess.” Eugen shrugged, leaning back against a counter. Crossing his arms, he added on. “The Farmer’s Guild accepts requests and orders from clients, and sectors are supposed to fulfill them. The kingdom has city districts and rural towns. The Farmer’s Guild is pretty much the main source of crop distribution. We handle all the farming and delivery logistics.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, I’m sure Charles can tell you more about it than I can.” Eugen laughed, “I just work here. Got my plot to farm and all.”

  “Besides quality-of-life items like stovetops and lanterns, is there anything else that can be blessed?” Heron was curious if there was an off-chance that he could get a blessed ride to-and-from the kingdom of Morningstar to Planet-C5. He didn’t care much for quality-of-life items; after all, he’d been living like a peasant when he was on his tiny planet. He didn’t even have a real mattress! That was not good for his back pain.

  What Heron really wanted was to bring Melvin and Charcoco here, to these living quarters, if given the opportunity. Home was where the heart was after all.

  “You know how Maxwell was going off about his seeds?” Eugen said, crossing his arms. “He completed the most orders in the last seasonal cycle and received blessed seeds. That’s probably why he was crashing out, since they’ve gone missing.”

  Heron didn’t know what crashing out was but it probably wasn’t good. “Blessed seeds? What do they do?” Heron figured he could try asking for more specifics later.

  Eugen shrugged. “Beats me. I’ve never gotten any before. But I’ve heard a range of possibilities. Larger crops, faster growth, and whatnot. They’re supposed to be a great advantage to have since once you have ‘em, you can keep farming them.”

  Heron stared at Eugen. If blessed seeds gifted by the king had special attributes to them… then what the hell had he been doing on Planet-C5? For goodness sake, Speed-Gro was kind of his default—

  “Dinner’s ready guys?” Larry interrupted meekly, holding up his finished bowl of chopped apple-like fruit.

  Excellent, I am ravenous. Lucifer chirped which earned a laugh out of Eugen and Heron.

  First, dinner. Then Heron intended to figure out just how useful his magic could be as a farmer working for the Farmer’s Guild.

  It seemed like it could be very useful. Maybe too useful.