Jeb did not have long to consider the changes that time had brought to the farm. The bees began to demonstrate why a group of them were called a swarm, enveloping Jeb in a cloud of rapidly beating wings. In just a few moments, Jeb could not even see his own outstretched hand, the mass of bees cutting out his entire vision. He reveled in the connection, feeling the bees as much with his soul as with his body.
Jeb was home.
Of course, the relaxing feeling of being surrounded by his bees could not last for long. A few minutes into his homecoming, Jeb heard a raised voice and felt the bees pull away.
“Jeb?” his mother asked, surprise more than plain in the tone of her voice and stance.
Jeb didn’t say anything, rushing towards his mother and embracing her in a hug. She smelled like freshly baked bread, clean water, and something else. She smelled like home.
His cheeks started to feel wet, and it took him a few moments to realize that he was crying. His Academy robes started to grow moist as his mother let out her own tears.
Finally, Jeb felt his mother’s tight grasp slacken. He pulled back and looked at her, noticing that he had grown just a little taller than when he had left. With no real touchstones during his time traveling and the steady march of time in the Academy, Jeb hadn’t noticed his new height. Staring down at the face of his mother, though, he could no longer deny the change.
“You’ve grown!” his mother exclaimed, commenting on the same. Her eyes narrowed and she began to look at him more intently. “And you’ve Tiered Up at least a few times.”
She let out a sigh. “I know that life goes faster in the Capital, but I hadn’t been expecting to see you at Level Eight so soon.”
“How can you tell?” Jeb asked.
His mother gave him a soft smile. “I’m still your mother,” she said, tone mock chiding, “of course I can tell when things have changed.”
Their conversation was broken by his aunt’s sudden arrival.
“I noticed that the bees-” she began, cutting off when she saw Jeb. She also ran forward, enfolding Jeb in a tight hug that smelled of yeast and honey. He had known that his Magical senses had grown since leaving home, but he hadn’t realized how much his mundane senses had grown. After quickly catching her up on his experience Brewing, Jeb followed his family back to his home.
As he walked, Jeb noticed all the small ways that life was different here than at the Academy or Capital. Some were obvious, like the lack of conversation and animal sounds in their place. Others were subtler, the sense of tranquility that permeated the farm or the way that Jeb felt as though he could navigate the entire place with his eyes sealed shut. That realization led Jeb to understanding the strange feeling that he had been feeling since coming home. Everything felt slightly more real on his family’s farm.
The rare moments that the Dean or Headmistress had focused their attention on the world around them had given Jeb glimpses of the way that reality could be firmed. A similar sense pervaded the air and ground, though the feeling was far from identical. Unlike Aquam or Petra’s glares, there was no underlying malice or threat in the reality surrounding Jeb. It was a good reminder that, unlike the Academy, there were no hallways to take Jeb from point to point without dealing with the intervening space. If Jeb wanted to go to the Brewing barn or see the fields he had first bred Watergrass in, he would need to go there on foot.
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Lost in his thoughts, Jeb hardly noticed that they had made it back to the house. He heard the faint sounds of a hammer striking metal and knew that his grandfather was working in the forge. Other sounds and senses gave Jeb an idea of the locations of most of his family, even as he tuned it out. His mother was updating him on everything that had changed on the farm and in the town since he had left.
“You just missed the harvest,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Then again, I’m sure that the entire town would have been completely extraneous with a Farming Mage helping.”
Jeb froze. His mother had known his Level, so he had just assumed that she would also know his Class. It struck him that he had left as a First Tier Least Mud Mage, almost as far from the Wizard that he was now as he could have gotten. After all, it was allegedly a Novel Class, which Jeb had to assume meant he was the first to earn it, at least in recent times.
His mother paused, noting the change in Jeb’s stance. Even though Jeb didn’t know how to tell her, a part of him grew suddenly warm at the way that she immediately noticed something had changed in him. His entire family had always been tuned into the way that he felt, just as he had always felt some connection to the way that they felt. Jeb’s time in the Academy had shown him how inscrutable most people’s emotions were, and he let himself dwell on that thought, just for a moment.
“Jeb?” his mother asked again, this time far more gently. The way her eyes moved told him that she was replaying the conversation in her head, trying to figure out what she had said that caused Jeb to react so strongly. Before she could figure it out, though, Jeb grit his teeth and spoke.
“I’m not a Farming Mage,” he said, a little surprised at how firm his tone was. “When I first Tiered Up, I was given the option to become a Wizard, focusing on Magic and learning the underpinnings of how it works.” ‘ He tried to continue, telling his mother that he had started to give up of his dreams of tying Magic to Farming, but found that his words were gone. When he was trapped at the Academy, it had felt like a coping mechanism. Forgetting about the family that loved him so much was the only way that he could function. Now that he was back, though, he realized that he had abandoned more than just his brief childlike dream. He had cast aside everything that his family stood for and everything they had taught him.
His mother came over and wrapped him in another hug, somehow tighter than the first. Unlike that hug, there was no element of surprise. This hug was meant entirely to convey a mother’s love and comfort. Jeb leaned into the hug, letting the words go unsaid.
When the hug ended, his mother chuckled. “I’m sorry,” she said, failing to stifle her laughter, “I don’t mean to make light of what you’re feeling. I just cannot help but be reminded of the day you came home with your First Class. You were just as terrified about telling us that you had gotten a Magical Class, even though all of us had assumed as much. You have always had a deep interest in Magic, if the fact that you learned two Glyphs without any Skills to help you didn’t make that clear enough.”
Jeb blinked in confusion.
“No one mentioned that,” he protested.
“It didn’t seem relevant,” his mother said with a shrug. “We probably would have discussed it before you received a new Class, but,” she trailed off, clearly unsure how to end the sentence.
Jeb didn’t let them dwell, barreling through the uncomfortable topic, relevant as it was to the fact that Jeb and his mother were catching up on his time away.
“I did learn to Weave while away,” he said, trying to think of something that could not be brought back to his forced absence.
“I’m sure that your uncle will be happy to hear that,” his mother said, clearly willing to let him move the conversation.
Before they could get much further through, though, his sister came through the door. Jeb let the conversation drop, catching up with his sister. The rest of the day followed in a similar fashion, as more and more members of his family trickled in, called by the news that their prodigal son had returned.