The deep winter eventually began to lose its grip on the Sinclair Kingdom. The transition was not sudden as it started with a change in the wind, which shifted from the biting, dry gale of the north to a damp, heavy breeze from the coast. The heavy snow on the Hemlock farm began to sag, turning from a crisp white blanket into a gray, slushy mess that pooled around the foundations of the buildings.
Inside the greenhouse, the atmosphere was tropical. The salt-grass bulbs had multiplied far beyond Jacob's initial projections. The east field, which had been a barren, eyesore for years, was about to meet its match.
Jacob and Arthur stood at the edge of the east field, their boots sinking into the frigid, muddy slurry of the thawing earth. The field looked like sickly patches of soil where nothing good had grown for several years.
"It's a lot of ground to cover, Jacob," Arthur said, squinting at the horizon. He was carrying a crate of the emerald-bladed bulbs, their roots thick and eager. "Even with all the ones you grew, we're only going to get a fraction of this field started today."
"We don't need to cover it all at once, Father," Jacob replied. He knelt in the mud, digging a small hole with his bare hands. He didn't have to worry about the cold when his gloves were enchanted. "These bulbs are hungry. Once they taste the salt in this soil, they'll multiply even faster than they did in the pots. We just need to give them a foothold."
Sera stood behind them, her voice beginning a low, rhythmic chant that hummed with the frequency of growth.
Tom and Elis arrived soon after with Caleb, and everyone started working on the east field in earnest.
While the Hemlocks worked, a lone rider appeared on the road leading from Ruvka. He was dressed in the heavy, fur-lined livery of a minor official, and he stopped his horse at the edge of the Hemlock property, watching the scene in the field with a mix of confusion and suspicion.
Jacob noticed him first. He stood up, wiping the mud from his hands. He knew that the sudden success of a dead field on the farm would not go unnoticed for long. The Sinclair Kingdom was hungry for taxes, and a farm that could grow crops in dead soil was worth more than gold.
The rider didn't approach immediately. He simply watched for a few minutes, his eyes lingering on the glowing roof of the greenhouse and the vibrant green patches appearing in the mud of the east field. He made a quick note in a ledger, turned his horse, and trotted back toward the village.
"Tax man?" Caleb asked, bringing over another crate of bulbs from the stock they had closer to the entrance to the field.
"Worse," Arthur muttered, his hand tightening on his shovel. "An assessor. They're looking for why we haven't asked for a seed subsidy this year. Success attracts vultures, Jacob."
Jacob looked at the receding rider, then back at the thriving salt-grass. He wasn't afraid. He had plenty of gold, a father who could reinforce a door until it was like iron, and a soul that could pull the secrets out of the very fabric of magic.
"Let them come," Jacob said quietly. "We have work to do."
That night, Jacob sat at his desk. A water core was back in his hands as he contemplated the complexity of its organic geometric shape.
He thought about the link.
Earth was gravity. Water was . . . what?
He watched the way the multi-dimensional snowflake shifted, its angles never quite staying the same. It wasn't just liquid... it was a flow. It was the transition from one state to another.
He realized then that water magic wasn't just about moving the sea. It was about the Spacebetween the drops. It was the sister of the Void Stone.
I think I just got a great idea for this core . . .
Jacob left the house, Sera in tow, and made his way to the greenhouse. There, he stood in the center of the greenhouse, feeling the cramped humidity. They needed more room, but building a second structure in the mud of the thaw was nearly impossible.
He looked at the Water Core in his hand, the geometric snowflake within it pulsing with a soft, magical light.
He had tucked his intent back into the physical core and pulled the beautiful snowflake structure out of it. He understood now that water wasn't just about liquid... it was about the Flow between states, and more importantly, the Space that fluid occupied.
"Sera, I need you to hold the rhythm," Jacob said, his voice low and focused. "I'm going to try to stretch the walls. Not the wood, but the space between them."
Sera nodded, her eyes widening. She began a low, oscillating chant that mirrored the ebb and flow of a tide. Jacob closed his eyes and held the Water Core aloft. He didn't visualize a bigger building. He visualized the air inside the greenhouse as a fluid that could be expanded without changing its container.
He saw the interior dimensions of the greenhouse as a surface of water being stretched thin across a larger bowl. He asked the magic to ignore the physical boundaries of the exterior wood and create a localized pocket where the inside was larger than the outside. He visualized this pocket as a stable environment, being capable of changing depending on the needs of the organism that inhabited it.
The mana surged, channeled through the Water Core. The air shimmered, and for a moment, the walls seemed to ripple like a reflection in a pond. There was a faint pop of displaced air, and suddenly, the workbench that had been against the far wall was now ten feet further away. The exterior of the greenhouse remained the same modest size, but the interior had doubled. The temperature stabilized instantly, the water core acting as a natural heat sink and moisture regulator.
Anywhere the people inside went, it felt like a cool spring day with the sun shining on their skin, whereas the salt grass pots still seemed to be experiencing a swampy summer. Jacob could tell that the additional layer of magic did not add any of the heat or humidity, it just took what was already there and shifted it as needed.
The core itself had expanded into a sort of field lining the inside of the greenhouse, taking on the appearance of complex runes, visible only in his mana field if he focused on it. It seemed that the core had listened to the magic and had accomplished Jacob's intent as he channeled his power into it.
"It's bigger," Caleb whispered, walking into the now-cavernous space after hearing the commotion coming from the greenhouse. "Jacob, the back wall is twice as far, but the outside is still the same."
"It's the flow of space, Caleb," Jacob said, exhaling slowly as he lowered the core. "Don't overthink it."