Interlude 1

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Being the main taker of a proper Cultivair was a hard job. The things one must do to ensure the proper operation of the gardens below is enormous. It almost makes the view of the multicolored garden from above not worth it.

"So Missy, how's the job treating you?" asked my great aunt as she sat across from me. Despite being blood related to the great chembaron, I couldn't help but feel like I needed the great mahogany table between us as a shield from her.

"It's been lovely Auntie. There had been some setbacks in the Vanilla production but we're stuck with just using bees.

Vanilla remains… resistant to any alchemical means to make it bloom and produce pods"

She waved off my concerns. "No matter, it's merely an experimental procedure we've borrowed from a rival family.

We'll find a way to pollinate them eventually. That or we can just wait for them to trip"

She would know considering how ancient she was. It wasn't an exaggeration to call her someone who came before hextech became popular

"Now this boy you've talked about. A pretty little thing if a bit slow. Had him escort Singed" my Aunt replied which made my blood run cold

"You know the mans mad. He'd kill his own apprenta without a second thought if they make too many mistakes and he doesn't care about politics. We owe him so we can't exactly touch him!"

"Oh don't worry, Singed was actually happy with the encounter." I sighed in relief. Garden hands in Zaun were hard to comeby

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"His background doesn't add up but he's the best garden hand I had in a while." I replied as I pulled out a file from my desk and placed it above the table. It was a pretty hefty folder considering how many contradictions the boy had

"Human resources had a field day trying to make sense of the kid. His background check needed a lot of work done

Name, Ark. Real name, Mark of Baker Street Orphanage. Born and raised in the Zaunite Sump's yet have a strange aptitude for plants. Is literate… in New Piltie but for some reason unable to read Zaunite at anything other than basic level. Prefers the heat of the Rainforest Biome despite it being far hotter than what Piltover or Zaun can ever hope to experience or what most citizens would dare try to experience. We are pretty sure he doesn't have Ixtal blood on him considering he's as pale as any Zaunite and the golden blonde hair.

He doesn't make sense. He could have been a spy but a spy would at least know to tone down the skills they possess and be a bit more vulgar but he doesn't curse explicitly. He's also far too honest for a Sump snipe that is"

My aunt laughed as she replied "He does sound like a handful but maybe you're overthinking it."

"Maybe, but best to have him watched"

"Good girl"

Slowly, the old matriarch stood up from her chair. Despite her diminutive stature, she carries herself with the poise and grace of someone much younger than she was.

"Give me a copy of his file, I'll have a read on this boy back at home. His file might just be a fun read if nothing else" Her aunt commanded before I gave her a copy. I had a distinct feeling that that kid will be more of a headache in the future. Auntie does have an eye for the strange and unusual.