The greenhouse was successfully running, a small, humid world of golden light behind the woodshed. Jacob, however, was back in his small, quiet room, its shutters closed against the winter light.
Sera sat quietly on his small cot, a cushion against the chill of the stone walls. She had brought the soft, enchanted thatch shawl with her, and the gentle, constant thrum of the magic she carried radiated a low-level, soothing energy that stabilized the room.
Jacob sat at his desk. Before him were the two artifacts of his ambition: his unenchanted spare sword, which would serve as the base, and the jar of E-rank Earth Cores. He wasn't building a wall but forcing a chaotic, dense knot of energy to change its essential structure without exploding.
The stakes were high. Even E-rank cores were worth serious money. Especially when considering the budget of the farm.
When he picked up the first core, he remembered the feeling of failure, the sight of the core shattering when he tried to cut the messy shell away.
"This is different," Jacob muttered, more to Sera than to himself. "The greenhouse was easy because the wood wanted to be warm. This core resists change . . . I will have to convince it to be something else."
He closed his eyes and pushed mana into the core. He tried to apply the intent he had learned to expose the perfect, intricate geometric shape hidden deep inside the core. But the moment he visualized the process, his old habits took over. His mana solidified into a rigid, invisible scalpel, attempting to precisely shear off the chaotic outer layers.
Snap!
The core shattered instantly, the contained energy fizzling out into a harmless puff of dust.
Jacob let out a sharp sigh of frustration. "Damn it," he whispered, dropping the dust onto the desk. "It was too perfect, I forced the cut, and the core rejected the direct approach."
Sera stood and walked over to his side. She didn't speak, but she rested one hand lightly on his shoulder. The low, wordless melody she had been humming all day intensified slightly, a gentle wave of magical support washing over him. Her gentle actions caused the tension in his chest to ease.
Stop trying to be a programmer, the feeling from Sera's magic seemed to suggest. Be an artist.
He picked up a second core. This time, he didn't visualize a tool. He visualized a gentle tide. He imagined the surrounding chaos of the core's shell as rough barnacles, and his mana as a soft, continuous flow of warm water, slowly washing them away.
As he pushed his mana into the core gently, the core didn't shatter. Instead, the chaotic outer layer softened and began to bleed away. The hidden geometric shape inside emerged as a complex, multifaceted crystal of incredible beauty. He held it for three seconds.
But Jacob's logical mind, terrified of losing the shape, tightened its grasp. The control became rigid again, and the beautiful crystal structure buckled under the force.
Fzzzzz. The structure instantly unraveled into a chaotic mass of energy before fizzling out.
"I held it too tight!" Jacob yelled, slamming his hand down on the desk. "I saw it! I felt the shape, but I couldn't let go of the reins!"
Sera squeezed his shoulder gently. "It was beautiful while you held it, Jacob. You just need to trust it will stay. Trust the magic, and your ability to work with it."
Her simple words were a perfect reflection of the magical lesson he was trying to learn. He tried again. And then again.
He burned through three more cores, each one lasting a few seconds longer than the last, before his rigid logic ruined the process. He was spending the farm's capital on a philosophical debate with himself.
Finally, he picked up the sixth core. He took a long, steadying breath before he looked at Sera, whose quiet presence felt like an unshakeable magical pillar.
Magic is my companion, not my tool, he repeated in his mind. Nudge it, work with it, don't command it.
He focused the tide visualization, allowing the chaotic shell to peel away. The perfect geometric shape emerged. This time, Jacob didn't try to hold the shape with his mind. He visualized his mana as a cradle or a friendly hand, simply offering support and direction. He let the core's own natural structure sustain itself, trusting the magic to be a partner in the process.
The core geometry stabilized. It floated an inch above his palm, a complex, spinning jewel, perfectly refined and ready for the next step. It was stable because the magic was working with Jacob's intent, not for his command.
Jacob opened his eyes. The sight of the refined, floating crystal was magnificent. He looked at Sera, unable to contain his triumph.
"I did it," he breathed. "I let go."
The air in the room, however, held a tension that Jacob couldn't feel. A thousand miles away, in the ethereal code of the world's structure, a distant, ancient alarm bell rang, muted and unheard. The System had noticed a fundamental violation of its laws, an impossible synergy that should not be achieved by the unranked.
The System is Watching.
Jacob, unaware of the metaphysical tremor he had caused, continued talking to Sera in his excitement, the triumphant glow of the refined core reflecting in his eyes.
"Now," he said, tapping the unenchanted sword, "we try to put it in something, see if this core will actually work with enchanting the way I think it should."