Chapter 36:

  Clover

  After settling my business with Mr. Flint, he ushered me out of his forge and all but banned me from bothering him while he worked on his newest project. My coin pouch was noticeably lighter as I made my way back to the center of the village, and the sheer amount of coin I’d just spent made me question my financial decisions.

  It was an investment… at least, that’s what I am going to keep telling myself. It might cost a lot up front, but not dying due to being inadequately prepared seemed like a solid long term coin making strategy.

  Despite my anxieties, I had to admit it felt nice having one of my tasks already taken care of for the day. I decided to carry that small bit of momentum forward, and made my way over toward the herbalist I’d seen on my way into town.

  After a short walk, I found myself standing in front of a cottage nestled into the side of a moderately sized hill. The mound itself was covered in a series of terraced garden beds that overflowed with herbs, plants, and flowers of every shape and color.

  As I drew closer, I couldn’t help but notice the mingling scents drifting through the air to meet me. Mint, stoneleaf, sweet blossoms, and even lavender were among the plants I recognized, but they were only a few of the many on display.

  At the top of the hill, a figure knelt in one of the upper garden beds, her silhouette outlined by the rising sun as she worked with slow, practiced movements that made it clear she knew every inch of her garden by heart. She turned to look down at me and waved my direction as I drew near.

  “Give me a minute to finish up here and I’ll be right with you, love,” the woman called down warmly, “help yourself to some tea inside if you like, just promise you’ll ignore the mess, it’s been a busy morning.”

  I waved back up to her in response and made my way toward the front door of her cozy little shop. The sign above the door was far more colorful than Flint’s, and each letter that spelled out Clover’s was painted a different color, as if she couldn’t decide on a favorite and simply chose them all.

  As I made my way inside, I was met with a room filled almost entirely with plants. They hung from the walls in crowded bundles, covered the floor in pots of every size, and even drifted down from the ceiling in long, leafy strands. The air was warm and fragrant, carrying a mixture of scents I couldn’t even begin to sort out.

  On the far side of the room, a small workshop had been arranged around a decently sized stone hearth. A large iron cauldron hung over a modest fire, and when I leaned closer, I found a thick, viscous brew bubbling steadily inside. The surface rolled and churned in slow, deliberate circles, even though nothing inside seemed to be stirring it.

  Curiosity tugged at me, and after a moment of searching, I finally noticed the faint runes etched along the inner rim of the cauldron. They glowed softly between the rising bubbles, and were likely the reason the concoction moved as if it had a mind of its own.

  Oh how I love practical magic… maybe in the future I could help Seth get some installed at the farm in Wheat Hollow.

  After pulling my attention away from whatever was brewing in the cauldron, I made my way over to the counter where a small kettle waited beside a stack of mismatched wooden cups.

  Having already been given permission, I set the kettle to boil and waited for the water to heat. While it warmed, my eyes drifted over the rows of jars and little wooden boxes lined up along the counter. Each one held a different herb or blend, some neatly labeled in soft, looping handwriting, others marked only with a faded ribbon or a colored bit of twine.

  In a small pot nearby, I noticed a dense cluster of mint that had long outgrown its boundaries. Thick, healthy runners draped over the rim in trailing green strands, each one tipped with fresh leaves that released a cool, sharp scent the moment my fingers brushed near them, as if the plant were eager to be noticed.

  Considering my new appreciation for the plant, I picked a few stems with their leaves still attached and bruised them gently between my fingers to release their scent. Once the kettle whistled, I poured the hot water over the leaves and let them steep in two separate cups.

  As I waited patiently to take my first sip, the front door of the shop creaked open as a middle aged woman stepped inside. Her auburn hair was streaked with soft threads of gray that fell in loose waves around her charming face. A hint of color warmed her cheeks from her time working outside in the garden, and despite the dirt clinging to the folds of her skirt, there wasn’t a single thing about her appearance that seemed out of place.

  I felt rude for even thinking it, but the remarks I’d overheard from the fishermen earlier this morning weren’t without some evidence to support the claims. Ms. Clover was… well, endowed in ways that were hard not to notice, especially with the way her leather straps framed her figure above the flowing green skirt she wore. Being a man, my eyes caught it before my manners did, and I quickly brought my full attention to her face as she greeted me warmly.

  “Oh, you must be Sam. I’ve heard a little about you along the vines of gossip. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, of course. No doubt you already know my name, it’s on the sign outside, after all,” she said warmly.

  Before I had a chance to respond, she carried on, sharing her thoughts as she made herself comfortable at the counter beside me. She smelled of earth, of life, and of fresh soil… all scents I had grown up loving on the farm.

  “Those dreadful pests keep attacking my lovelies near the top of the hill,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve tested three different repellents this week, but the little devils seem immune to every mixture I’ve brewed.”

  Ms. Clover idly picked up the tea I had prepared and took a delicate sip. Her face soured for the briefest moment, prompting her to reach behind the counter and retrieve a small jar of honey. She stirred a generous spoonful into her cup, took a second sip, and let out a contented sigh before offering me the jar with an encouraging nod.

  “Mint is lovely, but it always does better with a touch of honey. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  I smiled as I took the jar from her and applied some of the sweetness to my own tea. As I took a sip, I felt the familiar freshness of the mint, followed by the sweetness of the honey. In that moment, I couldn’t help but remember what The Path had said about Cultivations sweet tooth. The memory made me smile, and without really thinking about it I casually commented my thoughts out loud.

  “I believe Cultivation may know whats she’s talking about,” I said appreciatively, “thank you for sharing with me.”

  Ms. Clover paused mid sip, her eyes lifting to me with a flicker of mild surprise. She set her cup down with a soft clink, her expression warm but newly attentive.

  “Well now… that’s not something I hear often,” she said gently. “Most folks don’t speak of Her that way. Preferences like that aren’t exactly written down anywhere.”

  She tilted her head slightly, studying me in a way that felt thoughtful rather than prying. “I admit, you’ve piqued my curiosity, Sam… where did you come across that little detail?”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  At first, I tensed, thinking I had shared something I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t as if I’d been withholding much from the people I’d met so far, but still… details like that felt personal. Yet the way Ms. Clover spoke, she made it clear she wasn’t alarmed at all. If anything, it sounded as though she might be on a first name basis with Cultivation herself. With that in mind, I simply did as I always have done, I shared more than I ought, and chose to trust in the goodness of a neighbor.

  “Well, to be honest, I didn’t hear it from her directly,” I said. “It was more of a passing comment from the one I met when I first stepped onto The Path. He had a preference for mint, and he just happened to mention that Cultivation had a bit of a sweet tooth.”

  Clover’s brows lifted, not sharply, but with a soft flicker of recognition, as if my words aligned with something she already knew. She rested her elbows lightly on the counter, as she folded her hands around her cup.

  “I see,” she replied, her voice warm and thoughtful. “A Path Guide with a fondness for mint… that does narrow it down a bit.” A small smile crept across her lips, the kind that suggested she was turning over old memories in her mind. “Well then, let us be thankful the two of us have come to know one another.”

  Her expression softened, but there was a note of seriousness beneath it now.

  “And though I do appreciate your openness, Sam, it would do you well to learn a little restraint. Naively trusting everyone you meet is a good way to get yourself killed by forces you don’t fully understand. Just because someone walks The Path it does not mean they do so with good intentions.”

  I nodded at her statement, seriously considering her words. So far I had been mostly lucky with the people I’d encountered, but she was right. Idealistic and naive weren’t far apart, and I walked that line more often than I cared to admit.

  “Well, Sam,” Ms. Clover began with a warm smile, “as lovely as I am to converse with, I suspect you came here for more than pleasant company.” She stepped away from the counter, smoothing a hand over her skirt as she moved. “You’ve only just settled into your new home, so I imagine you’re looking to start a proper garden for yourself. Most people do, once they realize how kindly this soil treats those who tend it with care.”

  I nodded, affirming her assessment.

  “Exactly. I don’t want to do anything too extensive, but I would like to grow enough that I’m not constantly relying on others for my needs. And… well, even if I’m not on my family’s farm anymore, it just wouldn’t feel right not tending to something in my downtime.”

  Upon hearing that, Ms. Clover gave a small nod and walked around the counter, disappearing into a small room nearby. She reappeared a few minutes later, carrying several small sacks of seed. She set them on the counter in a neat heap, then dragged over the pot I had taken the mint from earlier and placed it alongside the rest.

  “I think this will be a good start,” she said, brushing her hands off. “It should give you everything you need to plant and stock up for the coming winter months. You’ll find it’s a great deal harder to get around once the snow settles in, so make sure you’re prepared well before it arrives.”

  I sifted through the sacks she’d provided, running my fingers over the rough paper and reading the names written in tidy script along each side. Inside were familiar staples: potatoes, beets, squash, onions, carrots, corn, and beans. It was a well-rounded collection, chosen by someone who clearly understood the basics of farming… she was a herbalist so it only made sense.

  Many of these were companion crops, plants that grew stronger when placed together side by side. Carrots and onions made a natural pairing, each protecting the other from pests, and the old trio of beans, corn, and squash… my family had always called them the three neighbors, and they had fed us faithfully for many years.

  Ms. Clover watched me look through the bags, then tapped the counter lightly to draw my attention.

  “If you want my recommendation, Sam,” she said, “find yourself a hill near the lake and make a terraced garden, much like I’ve done here. I’ll admit it’s time consuming work digging out the steps and shoring up the edges, but once it’s in place, the land will repay you for the effort. Terraces catch the water, hold the soil, and keeps everyting in a tidy location. Plus, it would be a shame to tear up the fields of flowers near your home, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I agree, I think I will take you up on that advice,” I said gratefully. “Now… how much do I owe you for all this seed and the mint?”

  “Mm, call it five copper for the lot, love. It’s good to see someone wanting to grow their own food. Plus, it’s your first season, and like those plants there, we are better if we grow together as neighbors.”

  I paid her the coin with a great deal of gratitude. Being a stranger here, she could have easily overcharged me, but instead she showed genuine kindness as a neighbor, far more than I expected, both in what she provided and in the thoughtful recommendations she’d given.

  “Ms. Clover,” I asked, gathering my things, “would you mind showing me around your beautiful garden? You have so many plants here I’m unfamiliar with, and I’d love to glean what knowledge I can while I have your company.”

  Ms. Clover beamed with pride and enthusiasm, immediately taking me by the arm and guiding me outside. We walked the terraced hills as she proudly displayed the abundance and health of her plants. I hardly had to speak at all as her passion for her work flowed freely, spilling from her in warm, lively words as she spoke of each plant as though it were one of her own children.

  When we reached the top of the hill, she stopped before a small, fenced off patch of soil. There, she presented her latest project: a delicate sapling that seemed to be struggling to take hold in the earth beneath it. Its trunk was thin and pale, almost fragile looking, and its few branches carried leaves the color of deep embers. They glowed faintly in the morning light, like the last sparks of a dying fire clinging stubbornly to warmth.

  “Beautiful thing, isn’t it?” Clover whispered, as if scared her voice might somehow harm the tree. “Though it is ver far from home.”

  She knelt beside the sapling, brushing the soil gently around its base.

  “This one comes from across the Southern Sea, imported directly from our neighbors on the Ember Coast. They say when the Ember Bark Tree finally bears fruit, it tastes just like a glass of fire wine. Sweet, warm, and a bit smoky.” A wistful smile touched her lips before she continued.

  “It’s not used to our climate, this species loves dry, sun baked air and soil that holds heat long after sunset. What it’s found here is cool nights, moist ground, and fog rolling in off the lake.”

  She sat back on her heels, eyes traveling over the sapling as though she were evaluating a wounded patient.

  “I’ve tried everything. Imported soil blends, sun stones to dry the soil, special mulch to keep the ground warm…” She looked up at me, her expression a mixture of pride and reluctant humility. “Still, if it shows even the slightest potential to grow, I’ll keep doing everything I can to make sure that it survives.”

  As Ms. Clover fussed over her struggling sapling, I was reminded of the very first skill I had received when speaking with Father Elias. Green Thumb amplified the vital potential within a plant to help it grow faster… I needed that skill, but not for this. Not now. This tree didn’t to grow quickly; it needed fortitude and a firm foundation.

  I knelt beside the little sapling and reached out, letting my fingers rest lightly against its frail trunk. Potential stirred within me, responding to the intent behind my touch. I didn’t push for new growth or try to force strength into it that didn’t possess. Instead, I sought out its quiet, stubborn will to survive in a climate that didn’t quite suit it. I guided the potential toward that spark of resilience, encouraging it to adapt, slowly and naturally, rather than race ahead.

  Potential rushed out from my reservoir, and I did my best to hold it to a manageable stream. The familiar internal struggle began the moment it touched the sapling, my power eager to pour out unchecked, the tree drawing on far more than I expected. I closed my eyes and focused, steadying my breath, refusing to trust the floodgates within me to behave under a half hearted attempt at control.

  When I finally opened my eyes, the change before me was undeniable.

  The sapling no longer sagged weakly in the soil. Its roots had pushed deeper and spread wider, gripping the earth with new determination. Its thin trunk looked firmer, steadier, as though it had finally found the strength to bear its own weight. And its red leaves, once faint and flickering like dying embers, now glowed with a vibrant, smoldering light, as if freshly stoked with heat.

  “By Cultivation’s bosom… Sam… it’s…”

  I turned to find a look of pure wonder crossing Ms. Clover’s face as she placed both hands on the newly strengthened trunk of the Ember Bark tree. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she marveled at the sudden change that had taken place. She lingered there for a moment, steadying herself, letting the reality of what she was seeing settle fully into her bones.

  When she finally turned toward me, her expression had shifted, it was still warm, still grateful, but now colored by an unmistakable desire that made me swallow nervously.

  “Sam,” she said softly, “if I weren’t so far along in years, I’d take my chance to steal you away for myself right here and now.”

  She paused, studying me with a slow, deliberate sweep of her eyes before adding,

  “…On second thought, I still might.”

  Her tone was playful, but there was not even the slightest hint of jest in her eyes.

  Skill Unlocked: Fortify Flora (Rank 1 : Level 1)- Bolsters the fortitude within plants, strengthening their ability to endure and adapt to various conditions. This skill scales with Spirit.

  Green Thumb: (Rank 1: level 1)- Amplify the vital potential within plants causing them to mature at

  a faster rate. This skill scales with Spirit.

  Path Ability: [Sow] (Divine) (Legendary)

  A tool of potential, Sow allows the user to amplify various forms of potential.