The walk back to the Hemlock farm was quiet, the weight of the gold and the new cores in Jacob's satchel feeling like the seeds of a future he was finally starting to control. When he reached the perimeter, he found the farm transformed.
The greenhouse was no longer a skeleton of wood and membrane, but a glowing, translucent jewel against the backdrop of the white woodshed. It produced a golden light from the crown, through the translucent thatch roof. It caused the snow in the surroundings to glisten, casting a truly magical ambiance.
Arthur was already inside, his breath no longer clouding in the air. He was using a heavy shovel to fill the space between the foundation stones with dirt that could be packed down into a floor.
"I guess you found a buyer for that sword you took with you?" Arthur asked, not looking up from his work.
"I did," Jacob said, setting his heavy satchel on a workbench. "The pay was better than we hoped for. 120 gold and a pile of cores for practice. Enough to pay for every seed and tool we'll need for years. Maybe we could even buy another field or two."
Arthur stopped, leaning on his shovel. He looked at the satchel, then back at his son. "That is a fortune, Jacob. And buying up fields can wait for later. But look at this." He pointed to the soil. Under the golden light of the roof membrane, the dirt was beginning to steam. It looked rich, dark, and alive, a stark contrast to the frozen, gray wasteland just three feet outside the walls.
"It's ready," Jacob agreed.
The next morning, Sera returned from the village. She looked refreshed and carried a small bag of her own belongings, clearly ready to commit to the work. Arthur and May offered her a small salary as well as an open invitation to the meals she could eat, and she was willing to sleep in Lilas' room from time to time.
She had been getting along well with Jacobs' younger sister, who was normally quiet, but she had found her voice around Sera. May, as well, enjoyed having an older girl around to help with the sewing and housework that the boys typically did not have a hand in.
The day was spent in the rhythmic, honest labor of a winter farm. While most families in the Sinclair Kingdom were huddled by their hearths trying to beat the cold, the Hemlocks were in the greenhouse, preparing a place for the salt-grass.
Jacob and Sera worked side by side at the long wooden benches. They weren't dealing with seeds, but with the thick, hardy bulbs of the salt-grass. The plant was deceptive. While its long, thin blades looked like common field grass, the power lay beneath the surface in the bulbous, onion-like roots that functioned as biological filters.
"They need room to breathe," Jacob explained, showing Sera how to space the primary bulbs in the large, deep pots they had fashioned from local clay and wood. "Salt-grass increases in number by making more bulbs. If we give each bulb enough space and the right amount of heat, it will sprout several daughter bulbs. One parent plant now becomes six, and we just keep moving them apart to keep the process going all winter."
Sera nodded, her fingers gently tamping down the rich, damp earth around a bulb. She began to hum, a low, nurturing melody that seemed to vibrate through the potting soil. Jacob watched as the magic interacted. He didn't use a core or a rune. He placed his hand over a row of pots and focused his visualization.
The image was of the bulb as a heart, pulsing with life. He visualized the salt-grass roots reaching deep into the earth as they would in the spring fields, but for now, he focused on the internal expansion. He saw the bulbs swell and split, doubling and tripling in size within the warm, protected soil.
He pushed a tiny, controlled pulse of mana, asking the plants to prioritize multiplication over height.
The response was immediate. The soil in the pots shivered. The emerald-green shoots remained short and sturdy, but beneath the dirt, the bulbs began to push against the walls of the pots. The salt-grass didn't just grow... it colonized the space Jacob had provided.
The work didn't stop with the greenhouse. Jacob spent the afternoon helping Caleb and Arthur in the barn. They used the new gold to buy a fresh supply of high-quality grain for the livestock, and Jacob spent an hour enchanting the water trough, while Sera spent some time with May and Lila.
Instead of a simple Heat rune, he used his new method. He focused on the intent of a mountain spring in autumn. The water stayed perfectly at forty degrees, never freezing, and never becoming stagnant.
"I like this, Jacob," Caleb said, brushing down the donkey. "The magic makes the chores feel less like a fight. The wood is smoother, the water is warmer, and the animals aren't as cranky. I am doing the same work, but it seems like much less of a hassle."
"That's the point, Caleb," Jacob replied, helping his brother haul a bale of hay. "Magic should make life better, not just more complicated. I hope to relieve the burden of farm work around here so we can focus on other things, like enchanting. But, eventually, I think we should expand our operations. But, I will leave that for the spring . . ."
As the sun began to set, the family gathered one last time in the greenhouse. The air was thick with the scent of growing things, a miracle in the middle of a Ruvkan winter. Jacob looked at the rows of pots that Sera had helped prepare, each one a small fortress of life.
He knew that by spring, they wouldn't just be planting a crop, they would be reviving the poisoned fields. And, if he could work some magic, they should be able to get a rotation started before his trial year ended.
The Void Stone sat on the shelf back in his room, silent and humming slightly with the power it was capable of. It could wait, for now. The Hemlock farm was growing, and for a peasant farmer who had found a new path, that was the greatest magic of all.