Plowing the Field
Every joint in his body screamed in protest, but he couldn't stay lying down. How much work is left to do······! He still had to pull the rest of the weeds from the field and start looking for seedlings. If he put off greeting the villagers any longer, they'd surely start calling him rude.
“Ugh—” With a pained groan, Patrick dragged himself upright and shoved a few of the sweet potatoes he'd boiled the night before into his mouth.
“Eating nothing but these three meals in a row is getting old.” Kimchi would go perfectly with them, though.Too far to go for that. Cabbage, chili peppers, salted seafood, pears and radish for sweetness······. Just thinking about it, making kimchi required far more than a few ingredients. Still, I'm doing it this fall no matter what!
It wasn't some lingering Korean soul that survived the possession—it was pure practicality. No way I'm eating nothing but boiled potatoes all winter. And he was equally unwilling to live on nothing but salt-pickled vegetables. The leisurely rural life he'd seen in dramas existed only on screen; Patrick had realized that within two days of arriving here.
The village lay a solid twenty-minute walk from Patrick's house. Once he crested the hill, a cluster of several dozen houses came into view beneath the bright sunlight. They said it was a small village, so I figured maybe ten households. Guess not.
Quaint little homes huddled together. Just as Patrick reached the village entrance, still wondering how to introduce himself, a familiar figure came running toward him.
“Mister! Wizard mister!”
It was Ben.
“Hey, kid!”
“Ben!”
“Right, Ben! Why'd you leave without eating any sweet potato yesterday?”
“Oh, I figured you'd really only give me sweet potatoes.”
“······I had potatoes too.”
“I had sausage for lunch yesterday.”
“I see.”
The grown man genuinely envied the child puffing out his chest. When was the last time I even had meat? Tch. Yesterday he'd been thrilled over a few sweet potatoes found while weeding—how fickle the human heart was.
“Did you come to greet everyone?”
“You're sharper than you look. Do you know where the village chief lives?”
“Of course. But he left for the mainland early this morning.”
“Ah, really? Any idea when he'll be back?”
“Nope. Who would tell kids something like that?”
Ben shrugged. This kid's got an awfully mature side to him. Were all the children here like this?
“Still, since you're already here, want to stop by the workshop?”
“Workshop?”
“Today's fish-cleaning day.”
At Ben's words, Patrick's eyes lit up. He'd caught the scent of protein.
“Fish? Let's go!”
The workshop was near the shore. It made sense—someone had to clean and process the catch.
“Ben, is that the wizard you mentioned yesterday?”
“Yeah! He wants to see the workshop, so I'm showing him around!”
“I wanna go too!”
“Me too!”
By the time they reached the workshop, a handful of children had joined them, and soon Patrick found himself surrounded by seven or eight kids.
“Mister! Show us magic!”
“Me too!”
“Can you fly in the sky?”
“Can't do that. That's an incredibly difficult spell.”
“Whoa! So if we learn it, we can do it? That's amazing!”
“I said I can't.”
The children chattered nonstop. Ben strutted among them like a little king.
“Mister can make water balls!”
“Water balls? I wanna see!”
Faced with their sparkling eyes, Patrick finally recited the activation phrase.
“Waterball!”
Whoosh!
“Whoa!”
“Ooh!”
The children let out strange cries of wonder, threw their hands in the air, and began circling Patrick.
“He really is a wizard!”
“He is, he is!”
Patrick's steps grew more confident. Feels strangely new. Back at the tower I was just doing grunt work and never got treated like a real mage. Even a basic first-circle spell with little attack power or utility had these kids so excited.
“Halmae! The wizard mister came to say hello!”
After showing Waterball several more times, they arrived at the workshop. Ben dashed ahead and clung to the back of an elderly woman who was working out front.
“The wizard fellow? Hmm. Looks like your body's doing better now.”
“Huh? Were you the one who came while I was passed out······?”
“Guess you heard the voices.”
“Thank you for back then!”
The voice had sounded familiar—it was the same grandmother who'd come with the village chief and left before Patrick even opened his eyes.
“Even if you did eat the whole conch, a young man fainting like that? You that frail?”
She clicked her tongue and circled Patrick once, shaking her head.
“Not a scrap of muscle on those arms and legs, and your face is pale like you've never seen the sun. Tsk tsk. Dark circles under your eyes too······.”
“Oh, Elder! He's a mage from the capital. When would he have had time to train his body?”
“That so?”
“Haha, haha······.”
The young men nearby tried to explain about mages, but Patrick could only manage an awkward laugh.
“Still, now that the tower's gone and you can't do whatever research you were doing, how are you going to manage with a body this weak?”
“I'm going to try farming. Working the land every day should build some stamina, right? Haha.”
“Farming isn't something just anyone can do. You got seedlings or seeds?”
“Well······.”
“Good grief, Elder. They come empty-handed when they're exiled. You need something to buy seedlings with!”
“Then what?”
“······.”
Patrick sniffled, looking glum, and Halmae pointed with her hand.
“See that field next to the house with the blue gate over there?”
“Uh······. Yes! That one?”
“Right. Go plow that field, young man.”
“Excuse me?”
“There's a rake and shovel and everything in the shed right next door, so start by clearing the dry grass. If there are weeds, pull those too. Turn the soil over once with a hoe and you'll be set.”
Patrick's mind went blank. He'd come to greet people and somehow ended up as unpaid labor. I thought this was an island village full of kind people, but now I'm just free help?
He wanted to protest, but the exile condition—that he had to live on this island for the rest of his life—left him hesitating, unable to speak up or back down.
“When it's mealtime while you're working the field, come back here. We don't have much prepared, but we've got plenty of fish, so grilling a few is no trouble.”
“R-really?”
“I'll ring the bell when it's time, so come on over.”
“Y-yes! Thank you, Elder! Thank you so much!”
Any complaints vanished the moment Halmae pointed at the fish drying in the sea breeze. Patrick bowed repeatedly. If I work hard, maybe she'll give me a few extra? Three would let me grill one a day······. Without realizing it, he was finding happiness in the smallest things.
“Ben. You go help him too.”
“Huh? Me too?”
“A man who doesn't even know how to draw the poison from a conch might get bitten by a snake while plowing. What then?”
Halmae clicked her tongue again as if the thought alone was absurd. Patrick's face flushed as he bowed and headed for the shed to grab some tools.
“By the way, Ben. Is that field Halmae's?”
“I dunno.”
“Yeah? Well, I guess.”
Even if the boy had his mature moments, he was still just a child. They reached the field while Patrick was thinking that.
“At least there aren't many weeds here.”
“It's not like your field, left completely neglected.”
“Yeah, yeah. Hup! Can I just pile the dry grass anywhere?”
“If you stack it in one spot, they'll probably use it as kindling.”
Once the dry grass was cleared, the rich soil beneath—far more field-like than his own—came into view.
“Still, there are some weeds.”
Compared to his own field, where weeds reached his waist, this one was nothing. Still, plenty of green shoots had already poked through.
“Better pull them quick······.”
“Wait! You can eat that!”
“Huh?”
“Don't you know that? What if you just yank everything without knowing what's edible?”
“······Sorry.”
Ben stopped him just as Patrick was about to pull weeds the way he had yesterday.
“That's stinging nettle. You don't know?”
“Stinging nettle?”
“If you chop it up fine, mix in some egg, and put it on a pie, it's really good.”
“Didn't know that.”
“Then you don't know about evening primrose roots either?”
“What's that?”
“What do you know, mister?”
“······I'm good at magic.”
“Ah!”
It was a lame excuse, but Ben brightened. “Then that's something!” He ran around pointing things out.
“This is evening primrose. You can roast the roots or make pickles. This is dandelion—people eat the leaves. There's chives too? You can stir-fry these wild greens for salad, but my mom makes frittata or pesto and spreads it on bread.”
Listening to Ben, Patrick had a realization. People are all the same wherever you go—they eat greens here too.
Looking closely at the ground, he began spotting familiar shapes.
“Huh? This is mugwort. There's shepherd's purse too!”
He didn't know much about spring greens, but he recognized mugwort, shepherd's purse, and Korean wild chive. They were staples on cooking shows every spring, and the rural YouTubers he'd watched had all posted recipes for them.
“Should I make mugwort pancakes? I've got flour, so if I can just get some sugar······.”
“You eat this?”
“Yeah?”
“This is for drying and burning to keep bugs away.”
“It tastes good too.”
“Really?”
Ben's face made no effort to hide his doubt. Patrick grinned.
“Just a feeling. I've got work to do today, so it's tricky, but tomorrow after lunch bring your friends. I'll make snacks.”
“Whoa! Really? But do you have sugar, mister? You said you needed sugar earlier.”
“That's true······.”
“Should I bring some?”
“Really?”
“If I take too much Mom will notice, but a little should be fine.”
“You sure that's okay?”
“We've got plenty of sugar at home.”
“······Just a little, then.”
Even as he spoke, Patrick felt a twinge of self-loathing.
They spent the next few hours pulling weeds while setting aside the edible greens. The field wasn't large, and by the time the bell rang, everything was done.
Ding— Ding— Ding—
“I'll finish plowing after lunch.”
When he straightened up, sweat dripped down despite the still-chilly weather.
***
Gulp!
Back at the workshop, Patrick couldn't take his eyes off the brazier as he swallowed repeatedly. Thick fish the size of forearms sizzled alongside a clam-filled soup and pasta tossed with wild greens.
“Did you manage to gather any wild greens, young man?”
“Huh? Ah! Yes!”
“Ben's got an eye for it, just like the adults. Heh heh.”
Halmae, who had put him to work without warning, came over and spoke casually. So she wasn't just making me work for free after all?