Adam woke early on his sixth morning in Angkara Village. The cold air brushed his face as he stepped outside Lorna's house. The sky looked lighter than Jakarta's grey dawns. The air carried the smell of wet soil and burning wood from cooking fires. He listened to the soft chatter of villagers starting their day. Their words still sounded strange. The rhythm of the language no longer felt chaotic, but he still caught only fragments.
Today felt different. His mind felt more awake, as if something inside him had shifted since he came here.
He noticed a group of children gathering near a storage shed. They drew lines in the dirt with sticks. Their laughter echoed across the yard. Adam walked past them with a small smile. The smallest boy waved at him.
"Adam! Adam!" the boy called.
At least they said his name clearly. He lifted a hand in greeting. Before he could move on, the boy pointed to his own palm, grinned, and whispered something that sounded like "Fyer." The boy rubbed his palms together. Then he lifted a hand.
A small flame appeared from his skin as if the air itself obeyed him.
Adam froze. His breath caught in his throat. His body trembled. The flame flickered like a candle, harmless yet impossible. The boy showed no fear. He laughed, closed his fist, and the flame vanished.
Adam felt his heartbeat quicken. He stepped closer without thinking. His voice came out dry.
"How… how you do that?"
The boy tilted his head. He spoke slowly, repeating a word that sounded like "mana." He tapped his chest. He tapped Adam's chest. Then he widened his eyes to mimic surprise.
Adam understood nothing concrete, but he sensed the meaning:
This was normal for them. And they thought he should know it too.
Another child, a girl, slightly older, ran up while holding a clay cup. She pointed to the boy's hand and scolded him. Her tone sounded familiar. Maybe saying he should not waste energy. Adam guessed from her gestures and the way she pulled the boy's wrist away.
He tried to say something, but the language still resisted him. He formed only one word he had heard many times here.
"Mana?"
The older girl nodded firmly. She said it slowly again. "Ma-na. Life energy."
Adam recognized the last two words only because she pointed to her own body while saying them. He repeated the sounds. She smiled at his attempt but corrected his tone with a gentle tap of her finger.
Life energy.
Fire from hands.
Children using it casually.
It was real.
Before Adam could think further, a deep voice spoke behind him. "Adam." It was Ernand, carrying a basket of tools. He gestured for Adam to follow him toward the rice fields. Adam understood the gesture even without catching the words. He moved beside him.
As they walked, Ernand tried to explain. He spoke slowly, using simple words, pointing at things to help communication.
He lifted a hand. "Mana."
He pointed at the ground. "Earth mana."
He pointed at the sky. "Air mana."
He tapped his own chest. "Inside. Flow."
Adam tried to mimic the word. "Mana."
Ernand smiled. "Yes. Mana."
Adam listened carefully. He captured maybe half of the meaning. But something felt strange inside him. As Ernand spoke, Adam felt a light vibration in his chest. It was faint, like a breath against the skin. He did not know if it was real or only the fear of seeing fire magic.
Ernand noticed his reaction. He placed a hand near Adam's shoulder. Not touching, only pointing.
"You," Ernand said. "Feel."
He added another word that sounded like "sensing."
Adam blinked. "Me? I can feel mana?"
Ernand didn't understand the sentence, but he understood the gesture. He repeated the word slowly. "Feel. Yes. Adam… sense."
The idea unsettled Adam.
If this energy existed everywhere, then maybe he somehow reacted to it. Maybe his fever had awakened something. Or maybe the world itself pushed its rules on him.
He glanced at his palms. They looked normal. No sign of mana. He had no intention of trying anything dangerous. He had only one clear wish: to stay safe and understand where he was.
The villagers continued their work. Adam helped Ernand move logs and repair a broken fence. His body felt stronger than in the first days. His understanding of the language improved slightly as he listened to workers repeating simple instructions.
A few words became familiar:
"Carry."
"Water."
"Wait."
"Careful."
He still could not form natural sentences. But the sounds no longer felt alien. They felt like pieces of a puzzle he could someday assemble.
In the afternoon, Lorna called him back home for a meal. She used slow speech and gestures to teach him small words.
"Bowl."
"Rice."
"Warm."
"Eat."
"Thank you."
Adam repeated them carefully. His pronunciation made her laugh softly, but she corrected him with patience. He appreciated her kindness. At times she reminded him of his late mother's gentle teaching style.
After sunset, the villagers gathered near a large tree glowing faintly with blue light. Mana lamps hung from its branches. The light pulsed slowly like a living heartbeat. Adam could not decide if the tree itself carried mana or if the lamps fed the glow.
Ernand spoke to the small crowd. His voice was calm. His words had the tone of a simple explanation, not a sermon. Though Adam understood only fragments, he caught enough to guess the topic.
Mana.
Flow.
Balance.
Safety.
The villagers nodded. They practiced a sort of breathing exercise. Adam copied their posture. As he inhaled, he felt a soft wave pass through his body. It surprised him. He kept still and quiet. He did not want attention.
Lorna noticed his reaction, but she stayed silent. She only placed a reassuring hand on his arm.
When they returned home, Adam sat alone on his bed. He stared at his palms.
He whispered in Indonesian, "Magic exists. Ya Allah… what world is this?"
He felt no answer.
Only the faint pulse of mana that he had begun to sense.
Tonight, he realized he could not pretend this world followed the rules of Earth. He also knew he had to learn quickly if he wanted to survive. And he needed to understand what this energy meant for his faith.
Because something inside him responded to it.
Something real.