The stone staircase spiraled down from the First Layer, its moss-covered steps cool under Akira's boots, the cloud-like fog of Glimmerfen's sky fields swirling around him. The air was crisp, scented with the faint tang of river water and blooming skyflowers, a stark contrast to the earthy warmth of the village below. Tilda led the way, her white braids swaying, her emerald eyes focused, while Fenwick followed, his green cap tilted, his lantern casting a soft glow through the mist. Akira's mind buzzed with plans, the image of the damaged Dhan fields etched in his memory—bite marks on rice stalks, wilting leaves, exhausted soil. Nocturnal insects, likely rice planthoppers, he thought, his Earth-born knowledge aligning with Arathia's mysteries.
They reached Tilda's burrow, its indigo door gleaming under the glow of a massive mushroom cap. Inside, the air was warm, scented with the aroma of burning herbs and old parchment, the oak table surrounded by woven chairs. Tilda gestured for them to sit, her voice steady but curious. "Akira, you've seen our fields. What do you think?"
Akira leaned forward, his hands clasped, his voice thoughtful. "I need a moment to sort it out. The bite marks… they're definitely from nocturnal insects, probably rice planthoppers, like we had on Earth—my village. But I need to confirm if there are other pests. I didn't see any mana traces in the damage, so these aren't magical creatures—just normal pests, like back home. The soil's another issue. It's exhausted, like Greenwood's was when I arrived. You're likely planting the same Dhan strain year after year, draining the nutrients. I'm wondering if there are other rice varieties in the Whispering Woods—maybe ones you don't know about, like the elves didn't know about certain crops. But for now, the pests are the priority."
Tilda's eyes narrowed, her tone probing. "You sound certain about the pests. What's your plan?"
Akira paused, his mind racing. A light trap's the best start. It'll identify the pests and, if their numbers are low, could solve the problem outright. If not, we'll need more. He took a deep breath, his voice firm. "I'm ready. I know what to do."
Before he could explain, Tilda raised a hand, her voice authoritative. "Wait, Akira. This isn't just for us. The elders and our farmers need to hear your plan—it'll save time. Fenwick, go fetch them. Elders, field workers, anyone who tends the Dhan."
Fenwick nodded, his lantern bobbing as he rushed out. "On it, Tilda."
Akira leaned back, his heart pounding with anticipation. This is it. I need to convince them, just like in Greenwood. He glanced at Tilda, her expression unreadable, and felt the weight of Glimmerfen's distrust. Minutes later, Fenwick returned with a crowd—five elders, their robes adorned with amber and jade beads, and a dozen farmers, their hands calloused, their faces a mix of curiosity and skepticism. Elder Bramble's grizzled beard twitched, his eyes narrowing, while Elder Hazel adjusted her silver spectacles, her lips pursed. The farmers, led by a wiry gnome named Thistle, stood with crossed arms, their expressions guarded.
Tilda stood, her voice commanding attention. "Akira has a plan to deal with the pests plaguing our Dhan. I called you here to hear it directly. He's earned a chance—let's listen."
Thistle, a farmer with a sun-bleached cap, spoke up, his voice gruff. "A human solving our problems? I'll believe it when I see it."
Elder Bramble muttered, his tone sharp. "He's still an outsider. This better be good."
Akira stood, his voice steady despite the tension. "I've seen the bite marks on your rice...dhan. They're from nocturnal insects, likely Dhan planthoppers, maybe others working together. They feed at night, which is why you never see them. There's no mana in the damage, so these aren't magical pests—just ordinary ones, like in my world...village."
Thistle's eyes narrowed, his voice skeptical. "You know the pest just from bite marks? How do we stop them?"
Akira nodded, his tone confident. "I've thought it through. Since there's no mana, magical traps or runes might not work— normal Dhan planthoppers aren't drawn to magic. We need a simple, effective solution: a light trap. It's a method we used in my village for rice pests."
Elder Hazel leaned forward, her spectacles glinting. "A light trap? What's that?"
Akira's voice warmed, his passion clear. "A light trap attracts nocturnal insects with a bright light source. At night, pests like Dhan planthoppers fly toward the light, thinking it's the moon or a guide. Below the light, we place a container of mixed kerosene and water. The insects hit the light or get disoriented, fall into the water, and drown. The kerosene breaks the water's surface tension, so they can't escape. The trap will help us identify exactly which pests we're dealing with and, if their numbers are low, could eliminate them entirely by using this light trap. If there are too many, we'll need more traps or other methods."
Thistle scratched his chin, his tone curious. "Sounds simple enough. How do we make these traps?"
Akira smiled, his voice clear. "It's straightforward. We need a bright light source—your gnome lanterns are perfect, brighter than the LED lights we used back home. We'll hang a lantern about a meter above the ground, over a wide, shallow container—metal or wood, doesn't matter, as long as it holds water. Kerosene is added to the water to trap the insects. We'll need sturdy frames to hold the lanterns—bamboo or wood poles, tied with rope or vines. Place the traps around the Dhan field, spaced about 10 meters apart, to cover the area. In my village, farmers used this method. They'd set up traps at dusk, check them at dawn, and count the pests to gauge the infestation."
Elder Bramble frowned, his voice skeptical. "Lanterns, water, and that thing, kerosene? That's it? No magic?"
Akira nodded, his tone firm. "No magic. These pests aren't magical, so we don't need magic. The light does the work. But I need to ask—do you have kerosene here? It's a liquid we used on Earth to make traps stickier, but soapy water works just as well."
Tilda shook her head, her voice curious. "Kerosene? Never heard of it. Why do you need it?"
Akira waved a hand, his tone reassuring. "No problem. Soapy water's enough. The soap ensures the pests drown—plain water might let some escape. If you have soap, we're set."
Tilda's eyes lit up, her voice brisk. "We have soap—made from skybloom oil. We can mix it with water from the First Layer's river."
Akira clapped his hands, his excitement building. "Perfect. We have everything we need. For today, let's make five traps to test the field. I don't know the pest numbers yet—if there are few, these might be enough. If it's a big infestation, we'll make more tomorrow after checking the traps. Sound good?"
The farmers nodded, Thistle's expression softening. "Five traps to start? Fair enough. Let's see if it works."
Elder Hazel adjusted her spectacles, her voice cautious. "You're teaching us, not just doing it for us. That's… wise."
Akira smiled, his tone earnest. "I won't be here forever, so you need to learn this. I'll make the first trap to show you, then you'll build the other four. I'll guide you, help if you get stuck."
Tilda nodded, her voice firm. "Good plan. Fenwick, Thistle, farmers—help Akira gather materials. Elders, if you know where to find poles, rope, or containers, lend a hand."
Thistle raised a hand, his voice eager. "We've got bamboo in the lower groves, vines in the storehouse, and metal basins from the forge."
Elder Bramble grunted, his tone reluctant. "I know a stash of sturdy ropes in the old burrow. I'll fetch them."
Fenwick clapped his hands, his lantern glowing brightly. "Let's move, then. Akira, tell us where to start."
Akira's voice was clear, his focus sharp. "Get bamboo or wooden poles—about two meters long, strong enough to hold a lantern. Vines or ropes to tie them, and wide, shallow basins, at least a foot across. Bring soap and buckets for water. Meet back here by noon."
The farmers and elders dispersed, their steps quick, while Akira and Tilda remained in the burrow. Tilda's eyes softened, her voice warm. "No wonder Greenwood trusts you enough to make you their leader. Your knowledge… It's remarkable. One glance at our Dhan, and you knew it was. One look at the bite marks, and you named the pest. I've never seen anyone like you, Akira—not in all my years."
Akira's cheeks flushed, his voice shy. "I… I'm just doing what I know, Tilda. I learned a lot about crops back home, and I'm glad I can help."
Tilda smiled, a rare warmth in her expression. "We're lucky to have you. Let's hope your traps work."
By noon, the group returned, their arms laden with materials—bamboo poles, coiled vines, gleaming metal basins, and jars of skybloom soap. Akira examined the pile, his voice satisfied. "This is perfect. We'll make five traps to cover the Dhan field. I'll build the first one to show you, then you'll make the rest. Watch closely—you'll need to do this after I'm gone."
Thistle nodded, his tone earnest. "We're ready to learn, Akira."
Tilda's voice was encouraging. "Any objections? This is for our fields, our people."
The room was silent, even Elder Bramble's scowl softening. Akira began, his hands steady as he tied two bamboo poles into a cross, securing a lantern at the top with vines. He placed a metal basin below, filling it with water from a bucket and stirring in a dollop of skybloom soap, its floral scent rising. "The lantern draws the pests," he explained, his voice clear. "They hit it or fall into the basin. The soap traps them. Set these at dusk, check them at dawn."
Fenwick and the farmers watched, their hands mimicking his as they began their own traps. Akira moved among them, correcting a loose knot here, adjusting a basin there, his voice patient. "Thistle, tie the vines tighter—they need to hold the lantern's weight. Hazel, make sure the basin's level is not too high, or the water will spill."
Thistle grinned, his skepticism fading. "You're persevering, human. I like that."
By late afternoon, the traps were complete, their lanterns gleaming like small suns. The group climbed the staircase to the First Layer, the cloud-like fog parting to reveal the sky fields. As they emerged, the evening sun dipped low, painting the platform in hues of gold and crimson, the river sparkling like a ribbon of stars, the skyflowers glowing softly. Akira stopped, his breath catching, his voice a whisper. "This… It's beyond beautiful. The sunset, the fields, the river—it's like a painting come to life."
Fenwick chuckled, his lantern glowing. "The First Layer's something else, isn't it?"
Tilda's eyes softened, her voice quiet. "It's our home, Akira. Now, let's save it."
They spread out, placing the traps around the Dhan field, their lanterns casting warm light across the stalks. Akira checked each one, his voice steady. "All set. Now we wait for morning to see what we've caught."
The group stood together, the sunset fading, the sky fields a promise of hope as Glimmerfen's trust in Akira grew.