Chương 22: Patient Cultivation

The library was the quietest room in the estate. Aurelia had chosen it partly for that reason and partly because its windows overlooked most of the rear grounds. From the cushioned bench beneath the largest pane, she could see the stone perimeter, the nearest watchtower, and almost the entire stretch of yard where Nimbus and Clover had been permitted to play. She could also keep Kindle warm. The Hearth Drake lay beside the fireplace with his narrow head resting against one foreleg.

He had positioned himself close to the blackened log Aurelia had prepared that morning, near enough to absorb its heat without touching the faint orange lines pulsing beneath its surface. The enchanted wood burned without collapsing into ash. It gave off a steady warmth rather than the fierce heat Kindle once would have preferred, but he seemed comfortable. His pale, damaged scales caught the firelight in dull flashes whenever he breathed. Two dragon eggs rested nearby in padded baskets.

The bright one gleamed even in the library's muted light, its white shell casting thin bands of color across the floor whenever the flames shifted. The storm-gray egg remained darker and more difficult to ignore. A branching line along its shell brightened as Aurelia looked toward it. Muted thunder rolled from inside, causing Kindle to raise one eyelid.

"It is all right," Aurelia said. His eyes closed again. Outside the window, Shale lay across the grass with a length of deadwood pinned between his forelegs. Someone from Dorian's warehouse had delivered several pieces earlier that afternoon after Roy mentioned the Burrowback Drake's appetite. Shale had accepted the gift without hesitation. He bit through another section with a crunch Aurelia could hear through the glass, then chewed with the solemn concentration of someone performing an important duty.

Farther into the yard, Nimbus floated in a loose circle around Clover. The Cloudbelly Drake twisted through the air, pale-blue body bobbing several feet above the ground. Clover followed beneath her with his short legs churning through the grass, occasionally snapping playfully at the tip of her tail. Aurelia watched them for another minute before looking toward the nearest tower. Two guards stood along its raised platform. One leaned against the rail while the other remained farther back beneath the small roof.

Both watched the drakes with unwavering attention. Aurelia could not tell whether their interest came from fascination, fear, or a desire to prove that Edric's decision to station them there had been justified. Orion would have assumed the worst, which made her worry too easily. What if one of the guards decided he had something to prove? Neither man had threatened the drakes. They had not drawn weapons or shouted provocations, but Aurelia's mind supplied the worst-case scenario. An arrow released without warning.

Nimbus struck before Aurelia could call her back. Shale collapsed beneath some ability she did not understand. Clover becomes frightened and tries to defend himself. She could heal them if she reached them quickly enough. Crisis Care had allowed her to keep Nimbus alive during the fight with the adolescent dragon, and Vitality Shift could sustain someone through injuries that should have overwhelmed them. But both abilities required there to be something left to save.

If the drakes were incapacitated before they could respond, Aurelia had no answer. She was a Caretaker. Short of lifting Kindle and hoping his presence frightened someone, she could not meaningfully defend herself. Memories of the cottage came to her. The dragon crashing through their preparations, the ground shaking, Kindle disappearing into the tunnel after Orion shouted his name, then fire. Aurelia still dreamed about that pillar rising from the earth. In the dreams, she never reached Kindle afterward.

She crawled through smoke and broken stone while his status faded beyond her reach. In reality, she had done everything she could, but that thought did not comfort her. Everything she could do had not been enough to preserve who Kindle had been. Aurelia rose from the window bench. Kindle opened his eyes as she crossed the rug.

"I am fine." His head lifted slightly. She knelt several feet from the hearth, smoothed her skirt beneath her knees, and rested both hands against her thighs. Frustration was useful only when it became something else. Orion turned frustration into motion. He lifted, struck, carried, and pushed until the obstacle stopped existing or his body refused to continue. Roy turned it into experimentation.

He examined a problem from every angle, discarded one solution after another, then spent far more Weave than was reasonable once he found something promising. Aurelia could not train like either of them. She had learned that during the first week after Kindle changed. Every day, she had poured Weave and Vitality into him. She had used Crisis Care even when no immediate crisis remained, hoping the skill might heal something she had missed. By the end of each attempt, Aurelia could barely stand.

Her Weave Reserve would fall close to empty. Vitality Shift made her Health drop until moving felt like wading through deep water. She slept for hours and woke up furious that resting had taken up time she could have spent trying again. Then, after several days, she noticed something strange. She recovered with more than she possessed before. The difference had been small enough that she initially dismissed it. A slightly deeper Weave Reserve. More Vitality available before exhaustion set in…

But after another week of careful observation, she could no longer call it imagination. Repeated strain had strengthened both resources. The discovery had been dangerous. If Orion possessed a way to improve by pushing himself near death, he would have called the risk acceptable. Roy would have designed a schedule, calculated the fastest possible recovery cycle, and ignored every warning once the numbers promised progress. Aurelia had told neither of them.

She did not enjoy keeping secrets from her brothers, but they already watched her too closely. Orion would have insisted on supervising. Roy would have interrogated the method until he understood every detail, then found some way to use it himself despite lacking the same skills. They needed to focus on their own development. Aurelia needed room to become stronger without being treated as something fragile. She closed her eyes. Vitality Shift responded first. Warmth gathered beneath her sternum, then pulled inward.

Her body grew heavier as a small portion of her life force converted into Weave. The exchange was inefficient, but that was the point. Weave filled her reserve, but far less than the Vitality she had spent. Aurelia then activated Crisis Care on herself, using the gained Weave to restore part of what she had sacrificed. The second exchange lost even more. After one cycle, she possessed less of both resources than when she began. She repeated it. Warmth became pressure, and pressure became fatigue.

Aurelia kept her breathing slow. She had established firm limits. Her Weave Reserve would fall to approximately seventy percent. Her Health would remain near ninety. Enough strain to encourage growth, not enough to leave her helpless if something happened outside. The difference between cultivation and recklessness was not pain - both could hurt - the difference was whether someone remained in control. Aurelia completed another cycle; her arms felt pleasantly heavy.

A faint sheen of perspiration formed along her neck despite the cool room. She checked her status. Health remained safely above her limit, with her Weave Reserve continuing to drift downward. She prepared to begin the next repetition, then a clear tone sounded through the library. Kindle's head snapped up. Aurelia opened her eyes; several lines appeared before her. [Side Quest Complete: 100 Training Repetitions Completed] She blinked; she had not known there was a side quest.

[Caretaker has shown responsibility] Aurelia glanced toward the windows as though someone else might have seen it. The guards remained in the tower. Nimbus and Clover continued circling one another. Shale had reached the softer center of the deadwood and appeared entirely committed to it. The next line appeared more slowly. [Caretaker is learning not to view themselves as a burden to dismiss for the family] Aurelia stopped breathing as the message remained suspended in front of her. A burden to dismiss.

She wanted to reject the phrasing; she had never called herself a burden. She worked as hard as Orion and Roy. She had fed them, treated their injuries, managed the cottage, and cared for every drake that entered their lives. Yet when danger came, she told them to leave her behind. When resources grew scarce, she assumed her portion should be reduced first. When decisions concerned risk, she accepted that Orion and Roy would make them because they were more useful in a fight.

Aurelia had not thought of herself as a burden - not consciously - but the distinction felt weak beneath the system's accusation.

"What are you?" she whispered. The screen did not answer. Velara had said other Awakened did not receive quests. They gained Classes and skills, but the Weave did not give them instructions or comment on private changes in how they perceived themselves. Had this strange system watched Aurelia complete every repetition? Had it measured her restraint? Could it hear thoughts she had never spoken? The storm-gray egg rumbled quietly from its basket. Aurelia looked toward it.

"Hatch conditions undecided," she murmured. The words did nothing to reassure her as a final notification appeared. [New Trained Skill Available: Reciprocal Pulse] Aurelia focused on the name. A description unfolded beneath it. [Reciprocal Pulse] [Establish a continuous cycle between Vitality and Weave. The skill will automatically convert each resource into the other, maintaining controlled strain according to the selected intensity] [Higher intensity produces greater strain and increased resource demand] [Intensity may be adjusted at will] That was her method verbatim. The skill had taken the exact cycle she created and automated it. Aurelia looked again toward the line about no longer seeing herself as a burden.

"I accept." [Skill Acquired: Reciprocal Pulse] Heat touched the skin over her heart. Aurelia inhaled sharply and pressed one hand against her chest. Light shone between her fingers, visible even through the fabric of her blouse. She loosened the upper ties enough to look beneath the collar. An insignia rested against her bare skin. It was smaller than her palm and formed from two intertwined curves. One glowed gold. The other glowed crimson.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. The mark pulsed with her heartbeat. Gold spread through it first as a small amount of Weave drained and Vitality rose. The next beat came crimson, and Vitality became Weave. The exchanges adjusted almost immediately, never allowing either resource to fill completely. Each pulse corrected the imbalance caused by the last, creating a continuous cycle of loss, recovery, and strain. A circular dial appeared beside the skill description.

The lowest setting was barely above stillness, while the highest looked less like training and more like a threat. Aurelia moved the indicator to the center. The insignia erupted. Gold and crimson light flashed through her blouse. Weave surged around her body in a visible wave, rattling papers on the nearest table. Her lungs emptied, and Aurelia collapsed onto her hands. The floor struck her palms hard enough to sting. Every muscle in her body tightened, then weakened.

Her heart hammered as though she had spent the last hour running through the forest with something enormous pursuing her. Kindle scrambled upright. His claws slipped against the rug before he found purchase. He moved toward her, head low and eyes wide.

"I am fine," Aurelia gasped. Kindle stopped directly in front of her. She attempted a reassuring smile, but it became a grimace.

"Too high." The insignia continued alternating beneath her clothing. Each pulse pulled at her resources, replacing part of what the previous beat consumed while maintaining the setting's demand. Aurelia lowered the dial slightly and the pressure eased, but not enough. She remained on her hands and knees until the room stopped shifting. Her body felt as though someone had tied stones to every limb. Kindle pressed his snout against her wrist.

"I said I am fine." He did not move. Aurelia waited until her breathing became more controlled, then pushed herself upright. Her legs shook when she stood. At the middle setting, she could technically function. Walking would require concentration, and carrying Kindle would be difficult. Any attempt to hide the skill would fail because the insignia shone through her blouse with every beat. Orion would have considered that a starting point if this were his ability.

Roy would have timed how long he could endure it and tried to increase the duration each day.

"Idiots," Aurelia muttered. Kindle tilted his head.

"Not you." She imagined her brothers discovering the dial. Orion would raise it until he fell unconscious, recover, then claim he had learned something valuable. Roy would decide unconsciousness represented wasted training time and reduce the setting by the smallest possible amount. Aurelia lowered it almost to the bottom, and the effect changed within seconds. The visible Weave faded. Her body remained warm, but no longer heavy.

Her breathing was a little deeper than usual, and hunger tightened her stomach, yet she could move without effort. It felt like ordinary farm work. A morning spent carrying water, weeding rows, and tending animals - a sustainable burden. She inspected the insignia again. At the lower setting, its light did not penetrate her clothing. The golden and crimson curves remained visible against her skin, pulsing quietly beneath the fabric where no one would notice unless she told them. That suited Aurelia.

A farm did not grow because someone exhausted the soil in a single season, it grew because work was repeated. Seeds were planted at the proper depth. Water came regularly. Weeds were removed before they spread. Fields were rested when they needed rest. Progress compounded when people had the patience to let it. Aurelia closed the status screen while Kindle continued staring at her. She reached down and stroked the ridge above his eyes.

"I promise I will not set it that high again without a very good reason." His stare remained skeptical.

"You have lived with Orion too long." Kindle huffed softly. ─── 🐲🐲 ─── The estate kitchen was larger than the cottage's entire main room. Aurelia still had not decided whether she loved it or resented it. Rows of shelves held jars, crocks, baskets, and metal containers. The counters provided more working space than she knew what to do with. A wide stove occupied one wall beside a stone oven large enough to bake several loaves at once.

Everything had a place - most of those places had been chosen by someone who no longer lived there. Aurelia carried Kindle into the kitchen and settled him in a padded chair near the stove. She did not intend to begin dinner properly while the others might remain in town for hours, but some preparation could be completed without risking waste. She brought broth from the pantry and placed it near the stove to warm slowly. Dried vegetables went into a bowl to soak.

She set aside grain, checked the remaining bread, and cut several pieces of preserved meat into portions that could later be added to the pot. Reciprocal Pulse continued beneath it all. At the low setting, the skill altered each task without obstructing it. Carrying the broth felt like carrying a fuller pot. Chopping required slightly more care. The warmth building in her muscles reminded her of a long afternoon spent working outside. Her hunger increased faster than expected.

Aurelia cut a small strip from the preserved meat and ate it while moving between the pantry and counter. Later, she took a heel of bread and spread it with a little rendered fat. She did not want to arrive at dinner and suddenly eat twice her normal portion - Orion and Roy would notice. Aurelia could already imagine the conversation. Why are you hungrier? Are you unwell? Did one of the guards frighten you? She did not need permission to improve. Still, secrecy required preparation.

She ate another piece of bread and continued working. The rhythm became pleasant; gold pulse, crimson pulse, check the stove, then listen for the drakes. Her skills were growing while she lived, which made Aurelia smile. Then shouting came from outside.

"Back!" A second voice joined the first.

"Stay away from the tower!" Aurelia dropped the knife onto the cutting board and hurried to the window. Nimbus floated level with the watchtower platform. She had not crossed the stone perimeter, but she had risen high enough to bring her face within several yards of the guards. Her body bobbed gently in the air, tail curling beneath her while she studied them with open curiosity. Both guards stood rigid, though neither had drawn a weapon.

One held both hands in front of him as though trying to stop an approaching horse. The other remained near the tower's bell rope, his posture tense and his attention fixed on Nimbus.

"Do not come closer," he called. Nimbus drifted another few inches forward.

"Nimbus!" Aurelia's voice cut across the yard. The Cloudbelly Drake froze.

"Come back. Now." Nimbus looked toward the guards, then toward Aurelia with her ears lowered. She understood that Aurelia was correcting her. That did not stop her from looking as though someone had cruelly denied her the friendship of two fascinating strangers.

"Now," Aurelia repeated. Nimbus descended reluctantly and floated back toward the library windows. She settled in the grass beside Clover with her head lowered. Aurelia watched the guards for a moment. Their concern had been genuine, but they had not attacked. That should have made her feel better. Instead, she looked toward the drakes. Nimbus traced one claw through the grass. Clover had stopped playing and now nosed through a pile of dead leaves without enthusiasm.

Even Shale had abandoned his wood long enough to watch the disturbance. They were restless. Of course they were. At the cottage, every day provided work. Shale cleared land, dug channels, carried timber, and reshaped soil. Nimbus moved water, cleared snow, and helped manage the basin. Clover processed waste and produced materials the household relied upon. Here, Bellhaven wanted them contained. Sit in the yard, remain visible, and do nothing until the town decides what should happen next.

That might work for a day, but it would not work for long. The drakes were not tools to be stored when no one needed them. They were living members of the household, curious and energetic, with minds that required purpose. Aurelia looked beyond them toward the rear of the estate. An old garden occupied a broad rectangle near the back wall. Its stone border remained intact, but the growing beds had withered years ago. Weeds covered most of the space. Several rows had collapsed into uneven patches of compacted soil.

It was not large enough for a true field, but it was enough for practice. Aurelia returned to the kitchen, checked the warming broth, then lifted Kindle from his chair.

"I have an idea." Kindle settled into her arms as she carried him outside.

"Shale. Nimbus. Clover." All three looked toward her. Aurelia led them to the garden as the guards watched from the tower.

"This used to be farmland," she said.

"A small garden, at least." Shale lowered his head toward the compacted soil.

"No eating the border." He looked at the stone edging, then back at her.

"That was directed at you because it needed to be." Nimbus floated closer as Clover began examining the weeds. Aurelia set Kindle on a folded blanket where he could watch from a safe distance.

"We cannot leave the estate yet, but that does not mean we have to waste the time. We are going to practice preparing agricultural plots." Nimbus's ears lifted. Shale stepped into the garden.

"Slowly," Aurelia warned.

"The purpose is not to finish as quickly as possible. The purpose is control." Shale looked disappointed, but followed as Aurelia directed him to the first section. He lowered his claws into the soil and the ground rolled. Aurelia felt the vibration through her boots as a ridge formed beneath the surface and traveled halfway across the bed.

"Stop." Shale froze.

"That would be useful in a large field. Here, you would bury the seeds, break the border, and possibly overturn the wall." He withdrew his claws.

"Again. Smaller movements." The second attempt loosened a narrow strip. Clover followed behind, gathering dead roots, weeds, and decaying leaves into a pile away from the prepared soil. His body opened along the ridges of his back, secreting the gel that he used to convert it into useful material.

"No Greenbind in the planting bed," Aurelia instructed.

"We will use Blackloam later, but this is only practice." Clover made a questioning noise.

"Because we do not have seeds, and I want you to learn the order." Nimbus waited above them, vibrating with impatience. Aurelia pointed toward the loosened earth." Light water." Nimbus released a stream, causing the soil to become mud almost instantly. Aurelia closed her eyes.

"Less." Nimbus stopped.

"A great deal less." The next stream fell as a gentle rain, which darkened the soil without flooding it. Aurelia nodded.

"Good. Keep the spread even." The three drakes completed the first section with remarkable speed. It was also uneven, overwatered along one edge, too dry along another, and tilled so deeply in the middle that Aurelia could have hidden Kindle inside the furrow. She walked the length of the bed, giving specific corrections. Shale needed to maintain a consistent depth. Clover needed to remove the smallest roots rather than only obvious waste. Nimbus needed to watch the ground instead of Shale's tail.

Nimbus looked offended by the accusation.

"You were trying to splash him." Her ears flattened.

"You may splash him after training." Shale thumped his tail once in approval.

"Now reset it." All three stared at her.

"Return the soil to its original condition." Shale slowly pushed the loosened earth back into place. Nimbus drew excess moisture upward until the mud became workable again. Clover redistributed the remaining organic matter instead of processing it. The reset took longer than the first attempt, which pleased Aurelia. Fast work was easy for them - deliberate work required thought. They began again. Shale's second furrow remained straighter.

Clover worked closer behind him, clearing fine roots before they became mixed into the turned soil. Nimbus spread water in a thin mist, adjusting whenever one section darkened faster than another. Aurelia kept Reciprocal Pulse active while she supervised. The strain remained gentle and constant, her skills strengthening through repetition. So did theirs.

"Reset it." Nimbus groaned.

"Yes, again." By the third attempt, the drakes anticipated one another. Shale slowed before reaching the stone border. Clover moved waste aside without blocking Nimbus's path. Nimbus waited until the entire strip had been prepared before watering it evenly from above. The result was not perfect, but it was useful. Aurelia looked toward the watchtower. Both guards leaned over the railing - their concern had been replaced by confusion.

From their position, the allegedly dangerous creatures had spent the afternoon tilling an abandoned garden, removing weeds, and practicing irrigation beneath the supervision of an eighteen-year-old woman carrying a weakened drake. One guard said something to the other, but the second shook his head. Aurelia allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.

"Better," she told the drakes.

"Reset it." Nimbus fell backward in the air with theatrical despair. Clover immediately began restoring the waste, and Shale lowered his claws into the earth. Aurelia checked on Kindle and watched them begin again. Bellhaven could keep staring all it wanted. By the time the town decided what to do with the drakes, Aurelia intended for them to be too useful to dismiss.