Kael's development under Ren's tutelage was a quiet miracle. The boy who was born of conflict learned the rhythms of peace. He learned that the death-energy he wielded could be used to precisely clear blighted patches on leaves without harming the plant, and the life-energy he commanded could be used to encourage stubborn seeds to sprout. He was becoming the balance Ren had envisioned.
His presence added a new dynamic to the farm. He became a little brother figure to Lyra, who would teach him how to track animals through the woods, her lessons always tinged with a "know your ecosystem" philosophy. Ser Kaelen, on his visits, would tell the boy stories of honor and duty, tempering the cosmic scale of his inherited memories with the simple ethics of a good man.
The kingdom, informed of Kael's existence, was understandably nervous. But their trust in Ren was absolute. If the Farmer God had taken on an apprentice, no matter how strange his origins, they accepted it. The Archmage requested detailed (and carefully worded) reports on Kael's progress, his academic curiosity overpowering any fear.
One season passed into another. Kael grew, not just in knowledge, but in stature, the farm's potent vitality accelerating his physical development. He was now a tall, thoughtful teenager, his initial emptiness replaced by a quiet, steady competence.
His first true test came unexpectedly.
The Dragon Elder, now a steadfast guardian, sent an urgent psychic message to Ren. *
Ren received the message while he and Kael were harvesting 'Twilight Blooms.' This wasn't a world-ending threat. It was a localized disaster, an ecological wound.
"The royal navy has been dispatched," Ser Kaelen reported minutes later via a communication stone from the capital. "But the magical contamination is making it impossible for them to get close to the reef to search for survivors or the seed."
Ren looked at Kael. The boy's face was calm, but his eyes were focused. He had been listening to the Dragon's message through his own burgeoning connection to the land.
"The contamination," Kael said, his voice now a smooth, low tenor. "It's not a curse. It's... unstable creation magic. Like a badly mixed fertilizer. It's causing the coral to grow into aggressive, crystalline spikes and the sea life to mutate."
"Exactly," Ren said, a proud smile touching his lips. He was pleased with Kael's immediate, accurate analysis. "It's a garden that's gotten sick from a bad ingredient. What do you think we should do?"
It was a test. Kael knew it. He could suggest Ren simply go there and reset the entire reef with his immense power. That would be the easy answer. But it wouldn't be a gardener's answer.
"You shouldn't go," Kael said after a moment of thought. "Your presence would be like using a star to light a candle. Your power is too overwhelming; it might shatter the fragile ecosystem entirely. This needs a lighter touch." He looked at Ren, his expression resolute. "Let me go."
Ren's smile widened. It was the answer he had hoped for. "And what will you do?"
"I will not use force," Kael said, his lessons taking root. "I will use balance. I will take a 'Shadow-Thorn' cutting to neutralize the unstable magic, not by destroying it, but by absorbing its chaotic energy. I will take a 'True Sun's Fury' tomato to restore the life of the reef once the poison is gone. And I will take a 'Moonpetal' bean paste to help me find the lost seed in the dark water." He had not just chosen tools; he had devised a holistic treatment plan.
"Good," Ren said simply. "That's a good plan."
"I will accompany him," Lyra stated, stepping forward. "His focus will be on the healing. Mine will be on any... physical threats."
Ren nodded. "Alright. But you'll need a way to get there quickly." He walked over to a large, healthy 'King's Melon' vine. He placed his hand on it and focused, not on growing a fruit, but on weaving a vessel. The vine twisted and grew with incredible speed, forming a small, sleek, living boat, its hull the tough rind of a melon, its mast a single, strong leaf. It was buoyant, fast, and attuned to its passengers.
Kael and Lyra boarded the small melon-skiff. Kael carried a small satchel containing the three precious plant-remedies from the farm.
"Be careful," Ren said. "And remember the first lesson."
"Know the soil," Kael replied with a confident nod.
With a mental nudge from Ren, the living boat slid from the farm into a shimmering Wayslip, reappearing moments later in a quiet cove miles from the disaster site on the southern coast.
They arrived to a scene of magical chaos. The water around the Sunken Reefs glowed with a sickly green light. The coral had grown into a maze of sharp, crystalline walls, and mutated, aggressive fish darted through the water.
Lyra guided their small boat with expert precision, her sharp eyes spotting safe passage through the hazardous reef. Kael stood at the prow, his eyes closed. He was not looking with his sight, but with his senses, feeling the ebb and flow of the chaotic magical energy.
He found the source: the shattered, leaking engine core of the wrecked ship, wedged deep within the coral.
"There," he said. He took out the 'Shadow-Thorn' cutting and dropped it into the water above the core. The effect was immediate. The dark vine plunged into the depths, drawn to the unstable magic. It wrapped itself around the leaking core, and the sickly green glow began to dim as the vine absorbed the chaotic energy, pacifying it.
With the poison neutralized, Kael took the 'True Sun's Fury' tomato and crushed it, letting its potent, life-giving juice spread through the water. A warm, golden light radiated outwards, and the reef began to heal. The mutated fish calmed, their aggressive features receding. The crystalline coral softened, returning to its natural, vibrant state.
"Now for the seed," Lyra said. She applied the 'Moonpetal' paste to her temples, and her already keen vision sharpened, allowing her to see clearly through the murky depths. After a few minutes of searching, she pointed. "There. Wedged in the wreckage."
Kael used his innate connection to life to gently coax a piece of seaweed to wrap around the lost 'Moon-Lotus' seed and bring it to the surface. It was safe.
Their work was done. They had healed a wound in the world, not with overwhelming power, but with patience, knowledge, and the right tools from the garden.
As they sailed away, the Eldorian naval fleet finally arrived, their mages finding the magical contamination had mysteriously vanished. They found a healing reef, a few dazed but grateful survivors from the wreck, and no explanation for the miracle.
Back on the farm, Ren felt Kael's success through his connection to the land. He felt a deep sense of pride. The apprentice had faced his first solo trial and had succeeded beautifully. He hadn't just solved a problem; he had done it with the wisdom and care of a true gardener.
Ren looked out at his peaceful farm. He knew the world would always have problems—blights, curses, and disasters. But he was no longer the only one who could tend to them. He had planted a new seed in the world, the most important one yet: a student. And he knew that Kael's harvest would one day be as great, if not greater, than his own.