As the sun fell behind the pastel horizon, light rays washed over the wind struck wheat fields. Dead center in the field sat a lone young boy, kneeling down in the rich soil. The flakes of wheat slowly drifted past him, and he buried his hands as deep into the earth as he could. His body was scorched from the summer sun, sweat dripped down his face, and his muscles ached. The wind rushed past, blowing his bright blond hair over his emerald green eyes, breaking his focus. He furrowed his brow and quickly brushed it out of the way, frustrated that nature dared to interrupt him.
He redoubled his efforts, taking in deep breaths as a means of focus. He felt a spark flicker from his left side, then a flood of mana surged through him. It filtered through his body, filled his veins, and reached his fingertips. His hands began to glow as he held them down into the earth. He exerted his will, pouring everything he had into this field he cared for, supplementing the plant's growth through his energy. His wish held true as his mana flowed through the ground, spreading through each plant’s roots, feeding them the energy to grow. With that Christof stood up, as he had finished his day’s work, and headed back to his house.
As he walked down the darkening path, he felt the mud begin to crack and dry on his hands. Without thought he quickly wiped them off onto his overalls, but began to panic. His mother’s voice filled his head, ‘Christof Elkern, if you keep wiping dirt on your overalls, I’ll have to revoke your book privileges.’ He attempted to wipe them off, but it just spread the mud. He gave up, continued walking, and accepted his fate. The path was winding, covered in rocks, and broken limbs from last night’s storm. His gruff hands scooped up the material, and flung it to the side as hard as he could.
Chris had to work double time today because of the damn storm. The wheat had been damaged, some even uprooted, and so Chris had to help them recover, replanting the ripped up roots, adding extra fertilizer, and stimulating them twice in a single day. Without the fields he worked, his village would struggle much more than he could bear to watch. He remembered how hard food was to come by before he started helping in the field. When he flung open the wooden door, the creak that rippled through the house alerted his family of his return. His father, Geralt, sat in his usual leather chair, holes bored through it, color fading, mug in hand, drinking the night away.
His mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Chris let his dad know of his progress on the field, and his dad mustered the best smile he could, his tired eyes unchanging, and patted the excited boy on the head. “I’m proud of how hard you’re working, boy. I wish I could help out more, but there isn’t even anything in that field I can teach you. You’re a natural.” Geralt maintained the faint smile as long as he could. “Thanks dad!” Chris chirped, “I do my best!” The boy dashed to his mom, Kayreen, in the kitchen to help out.
His dad slumped back into his chair. ‘The boy is doing everything he can, and I can’t do anything.’ Geralt sighed and did his best to hold back his tears. He had been injured severely and couldn’t easily walk all thanks to him trying to show off. An Orcish Boar had come into the village and even though it had been well over a decade since his last job as an adventurer, Geralt attempted to chase it out. ‘There’s nothing I can do for my family, no one needs me. What kind of man needs his son’s help to use the damn bathroom?’
Geralt had been like that for a whole year now, and Chris had to take up his work, while his mom had to work extra hard at home to take care of him as well. The three of them had bags under their eyes, but Chris refused to let anything get him down. He did his best as a shining beacon for the overworked family. They were in charge of the largest fields in the village, and Chris and his father used their nature magic to keep everyone fed as best as possible. Bread was a mainstay in the village because of how much they could produce, but tonight was special.
It was Chris' ninth birthday. They did everything they could to make dinner as tasty as possible. His mother asked around the village for spare meat. Even though no such thing exists, everyone knew how hard Chris worked in those fields, like magic, spare meat was on the menu. Kayreen cooked monster meat with precision, removing any impurities and weird chunks Chris didn’t like, and made a sauce using the water the vegetables were boiled in, and the runoff of the meat juice. She even managed to sew a few trinkets to trade for just a bit of salt. She pulled out all the stops for Chris' birthday, and he was excited. Not even Geralt could keep a frown on him the whole night. The meal was the best one they had eaten the entire year, and while that would make most bitter, only having one good meal, then repeating bland meals over and over, all it meant to Chris was another day in the future to look forward to.
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Eager and optimistic came to Kayreen’s mind when she thought of her son. ‘No matter how much work he has to do, and no matter how bad things go, his smile never goes away.’ Kayreen smiled at the thought. His father, on the other hand, was almost jealous of Chris' energy and optimism. He was strong willed, but still really naive. ‘What’s he gonna do when he faces the real world? Life isn’t as easy as he thinks it is.’ Geralt winced as he realized how childish those thoughts were, ‘I’m too old to be acting like that.’ They ate dinner together, and all the while, Chris was just trying to figure out what to read for the night.
After enjoying his meal, spending time with his family, and washing up, Chris went to his room to read before bed, but he couldn’t find anything he wanted to read. Chris was taught reading at a young age as his mother desperately wanted to maintain as much of their noble history as possible, and the books she kept were still that of a noble family, no matter how little they had outside of that. These books listed history of the family, a few secrets, and basic etiquette, and other things Chris didn’t care about.
According to what Chris read, the Elkern family used to be a mid-tier noble family, with control over a few villages, a decent amount of money and influence, and a lot of magic potential, but that ended during the economic breakdown that happened over a century before. Large monsters and a magical disease ravaged the lands of the four human nations, and food shortages ran rampant on and off for over a decade.
The King of Sarkov, Jeryl Werster IV, held a grudge against the family and desperately needed a solution to the crisis. He demoted the Elkern, Treas, and Pelvern family leaders to Baron, revoked their land, and forced them to use their magical talent to save the fields. To refuse would have meant completely losing noble status, and possibly a treason charge, so they accepted.
Chris rummaged through all the books in his room and couldn’t find one he was interested in. He grew bored, and began to dig around the rest of the house for something new to read. He began looking behind and under shelves all throughout the house, searching room after room, and then underneath the shelf in his parents bedroom he spotted something. He reached back, and yanked it out with haste.
The bindings of the book were a dull and fading red. The cover was dusty, and Chris blew with all his might, revealing a glossy golden gryphon imprinted onto the cover. The title was faded, but the book was enough to intrigue Chris. Glee filled his eyes as he tucked the book under his shirt and ran back upstairs as to not be interrupted.
He flipped through it, kicking up dust from each individual page, making Chris begin to cough and wheeze. It wasn’t anything crazy like a book of ancient spells, but what it held within it would change Chris' life forever. From what he could tell, the book contained very basic spells. He flipped through it quickly, skimming past the flame spell, the swirl spell, the gust spell, and many other basic level magics that are commonly used for simple tasks and chores, but he suddenly stopped as one spell caught his attention.
The physical enhancement spell apparently had a bunch of varied uses, from running faster, recovering stamina, and boosting muscle mass for short periods. ‘This could help me do my field work faster. Perfect!’ He began by chanting the words in the book and held his eyes closed, imagining his muscles getting bigger, like his dad’s when Chris was younger.
The sensation he felt was vaguely familiar, similar to how his body felt when he was cultivating the field, a warm feeling rushing through his entire body. He opened his eyes and looked down. He noticed that his legs looked a bit bigger, and when he flexed his bicep, it was easily twice it's original size. He jumped up, and found that he could now leap over himself if he wanted. He went around his room, lifting up furniture that he struggled to move around normally, and found they were now manageable. After messing around a bit, he exhausted himself and crashed into bed.
The next day Chris climbed out of bed, rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and decided that he should see how high he could jump normally. He squatted down, and with all his might, he leapt up. It felt so short, he barely got off the ground. He noticed his body didn’t have any of the sensation within it that it had the night before. He focused on the feeling of warmth that he gets when he works the fields, and imagined his muscles getting stronger once again. He slowly managed to spread the warmth around his body, and even though the warmth was thinner than the night before, he managed to reproduce the feeling.
He jumped again, and while it wasn’t near as high as when he chanted the night before, it was still an improvement. He spent the entire day like that, anytime the warmth would disappear, he would call it back. While working in the field, not only did he support his plants, but he enchanted his body. He was less tired at the end of the day than he normally was. Chris spent the next three months working in the fields, and working on his physical enhancement. After the three months had passed, it had become as natural to him as breathing. He even practiced keeping the spell going while he slept. He could easily jump over himself now, without needing to chant.