The Slime Farmer - 72 Between Night and the Dawn

The moon in the sky had a curved sliver sheared out of one side, in a waxing phase. After the cloudy drizzly evening, the sky after midnight was surprisingly clear, sprinkled with stars Defi did not know how to name.

The moon and the river of stars in the sky lit the night bright enough that he did not need a lantern to navigate the Treachery.

Defi’s first hunts had been in the desert bordering the wastes.

He remembered nights like this, after the desert would give up their heat and the fires would burn down to warm coals. Practicing spear forms under a moonless dark velvet heaven cleaved in half by a torrent of light, the brilliant unrest of the desert sky calling to the warrior blood in his veins.

The sky of Ascharon was less a fierce riot, fewer red and yellow stars glowing within the pale stream meandering above. A colder sky. The stars seemed further away.

He returned his attention to the river, digging his pole into its gravelly bed. A splash of water caught his attention, further to the center, away from the shallows.

A large sleek form broke the river surface from the depths, scales glittering in the moonlight. Defi twitched as a fin, one as tall as he, rose and split the reflection of the moon on the water before it was once more subsumed under the surface of the Treachery.

The waters curled around the disappearing fin, and then resumed their natural flowing.

He glanced at the unlit lantern at the bow of the boat, and silently thanked the Creator for the lack of clouds tonight. He felt a brief wish to strangle whoever maintained that there were no dangerous beasts in the Lowpool.

What did they call the monster that just had, in front of his eyes, attempted to swallow the moon?

It was only a quarter-hour more to the Garge homestead. He enhanced his senses with the Current, not relaxing his vigilance until he docked at the pier.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, relieved as he stepped on solid ground. Something so large would not be able to move in the shallows, he assured himself. There was no cause to worry.

He reevaluated his consideration on how deep the waters of the Treachery ran. If the river and lake could support such a beast, the depths must be extraordinary. And there was no telling what else was down there.

Defi shook his head. As long as they stayed down there, there was no need to think about them.

He yawned, the Current within him subsiding. He hefted the sack of bread and ale from the scow to his shoulder.

The black-seed bread was made from crushed nuts and seeds mixed with rye flour, according to the stall keeper. It kept well, and the heaviness of the bread sated hunger for a long time. It was coarse bread but, apart from the thin bitter crust, was pleasantly nutty to the taste.

The jug of ale was tossed to him by Rocso, who was helping Adan pack the cart to take back their empty barrels to the tavern when Defi passed by.

The bread would be a good start for the day, after a few hours of sleep.

He stopped.

An orange glow flickered against the warehouse walls. Defi ran.

He skidded to a halt at a campfire, where several fish were roasting slowly on sticks stuck to the ground. He stared disbelievingly. “What?”

“Oh, you’re back?” Tholme waved him over. “Want a fish?”

“No, I just ate.” Defi puffed out a breath, relaxing the tight grip he had on the sack. His sleepiness had been taken altogether. “I thought everyone was at the night market.”

“We took turns,” said one of the workers. “The other group’s going to be back later.”

“Yes?” Defi could not help the bewilderment tinging his voice.

Tholme sighed, a wry twist to his smile. “Someone broke into your house. There’s a hole in your wall. You live alone, kid.”

“I’m not a child.” But he couldn’t deny that he was moved by their actions. “There must be people waiting for you at home. You don’t have to do this.”

“Hah,” said one of the men. “And put up with my wife and mother’s nagging? I’d like a month away from them.”

“It’s just one night anyway,” added one of the women. “That man needs to learn how to deal with his own kids.”

There were other sounds of agreement.

“Thank you.” It was not part of their work contract to do this, and he was an outsider who didn’t even have a proper reception hall. He slumped down on a box, the battle-ready high leaching from his body.

He offered the sack to the closest person, the woman who spoke. “There’s a sample of Adan’s newest ale in there, if you haven’t tried it yet.”

“This isn’t your morning meal is it?”

“I don’t drink ale in the morning.” Did all women fire questions as accurate as hunter’s arrows?

She grinned at him. “Your loss. This is from Adan?”

Defi relaxed as he eased into the conversation and laughter of the five people. He was even convinced to eat some of the freshly caught fish. The roast fish went well with the nutty bread and the sour ale.

Another six people, including Karles, docked at the pier an hour later. Defi thanked them as well, and said goodbye to those that were leaving.

He was warmed by the time he parted from them.

He couldn’t tell them the intruders wouldn’t strike again, and felt a little guilty they were sacrificing their sleep for something unnecessary.

Madame Agreine didn’t appear to be someone who would to resort to burglary. And Calor Ducan was gone from the Lowpool.

That was a good thing, but Defi felt a faint sense of dissatisfaction at so sudden an ending. Or maybe because he had plans that were suddenly cut off at the knees? He huffed at himself silently, amused and irritated. Was he this sort of finicky person who wanted a definite conclusion to everything that started?

There was just a faint tinge of something unresolved when he thought of the matters of Calor Ducan, something niggling at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was the Current in him, that the Teachings said flowed through both time and space, saying that there was a possibility that they would meet again.

Such fanciful notion. The teachers did say to heed the tuggings of the Current, but seeing through time was a myth. He had plenty of time to leisurely find what he missed, now that he didn’t need to plan out defenses and responses.

Going forward with the added security measures was still a good idea.

There was an hour or so left until the time he usually woke. He stopped at the unopened door, considering, then left the porch to make his way to the sansu trees. An hour of sleep would not be as helpful as healing the land.

The sansu trees were nearly all healthy, just a dozen left in their withered state.

He sat under the first tree he had renewed. It had lost most of its flowers and was growing fruit. Sansu was a summer fruit, but the trees of the homestead was going to fruit and ripen at the onset of winter.

The Current spread across the land, sustaining and restoring vitality, much easier now than ever before. The months spent in Ascharon, a land that worshipped a god not the Creator, had strengthened his abilities in the Current. Even if mostly only in the particular area of farming.

Defi could not train the ways of the warriors or the priests without instruction. The matters of farming had always been the ways of nature, uncomplicated and instinctive. For the rest, he only had the Circles, three weapon-based masteries, and a dozen arts he did not fully understand.

He stopped nourishing the land and for a moment stretched his senses in the Current to the full extent he could. It was slightly nauseating, a cacophony of sight-smell-sound-touch all melding together into a single sense. The strong vitality in the land and in the animals, the insects and birds and worms, were nearly ‘blinding’ to his Current-based sense.

Trying to focus was somewhat similar to counting individual raindrops while running through a downpour.

He withdrew his senses closer to his body. It was easier with land he owned, his mark already on the soil.

Currently, Defi held nearly twenty hecte of land in his name, a substantial amount. But the Current could pinpoint every insect within the boundaries, every sleeping bird, every mouse, every plant and stone and tree with high levels of vitality.

This was land that belonged to him, emperors aside.

He breathed in and out slowly as his ‘eyes’ took in the farming homestead, the six people at the warehouse, slimes in the house, the land slowly coming back to life.

This was the hope that someday he might gain that happiness that his mentor Maryiz wanted him to find. This land, this farm, was the start of his life in this other world.

He withdrew the sensing and sunk the energy of the Current into the land under him.

There were many things to be done before the homestead could be called a proper farm.