The next day, Soral got right to work, taking Ruena with him to scope out the old castle. They decided on the wing farthest from the Gray Tower. Not only did they wish to avoid the tower, this was also the most intact part of the castle. There was direct access to the courtyard, as well. This would make it easier to grow and care for the faeruitl tree.
Now there was the issue of exactly how Soral intended to fix it. He was going to use magic, of course, but other than the time he had traveled to the past, he had never used this kind of magic before. Perhaps it was because he had been panicked back then, he couldn’t remember how he did it. Then again, he was probably just overthinking things again.
With this in mind, he decided to start with something simple. Patching cracks. It was a repetitive but surprisingly pleasant activity. Every time he stepped back to appreciate his work, he felt a strong sense of fulfillment. It didn’t look perfect, but it looked much better than it had before.
After that, he worked on the floor plan with Ruena, restoring old walls and building new ones. They had to clear some old furniture and debris, saving those that still looked useable. The rest, Soral stuffed in his pocket. Rather than sending them to his storage, he sent the garbage to Doc’s old bunker. If he really needed something from it later, it might be a little sandy but he knew where to find it.
Since they still needed doors, and the various other furniture, Soral tracked down the castle vault and procured himself some funds. It was honestly amazing no one had taken anything yet. Unless Densooth was using it. Either way, Soral figured it was fine. Definitely not stealing.
Rosalie and Howler both accompanied them to town to shop for the things they needed. Before they could begin shopping, a Belleas employee approached Soral with a cart. “I was told by Young Master Toll to deliver this to you,” he announced, handing Soral a letter.
Soral opened it and looked it over.
“Here are the research supplies we promised, along with a cart. Don’t forget, I will be checking on the progress of your studies at the end of the week. Good luck.”
There was no signature, but Soral didn’t need one. He moved to inspect the cart instead. It was fairly nice for a hand-pulled cart, and filled with all sorts of materials. They all looked interesting, but Soral decided to deliver them to his pocket space for now. That way they could use the cart for shopping.
The employee was slightly surprised to see everything disappear into Soral’s pocket, but hurried off to complete the various other tasks on their agenda.
“What are you doing?” Rosalie asked.
“I thought we could use the cart for shopping,” Soral explained.
“So you just got rid of all of those valuable materials?”
“They’re safe in my pocket,” Soral replied confidently.
Ruena stepped forward. “This will help a lot. Your pocket isn’t big enough to fit furniture, and this cart can at least fit the smaller things.”
“I can just take the furniture directly there,” Soral told her, then realized he had never actually told Ruena he had mastered portals.
“That will work,” Ruena agreed, “Rosalie told me you brought everyone back from the Oasis. A nearby castle should be no problem.”
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Luckily Rosalie had told her. Soral nodded, a bit relieved he didn’t have to explain, and they quickly got to shopping. The shopping took quite a while since everyone had to get things for their living space, and they needed a workshop. They also needed the tools for gardening. Soral needed to remember to find or build a shed.
After shopping, arranging all of their purchases took the rest of the day, but at least now everyone had an official place to stay. Ruena seemed somewhat torn about abandoning her cottage so she stayed there for the day and decided to move her things over later.
The next morning, Soral approached the next most pressing matter. First, he greeted Jazz. “Do you know how to grow a faerutil tree?”
Jazz meowed and tilted his head lightly in confusion. Probably not then.
“I guess we will learn together.”
Soral woke up Howler and dragged him to the courtyard to pick a good spot for the tree. Right by their passage was an overgrown garden with a few unusual looking plants already growing there. Howler inspected that first.
“This could work, but I would like to look for a more open space with similar conditions,” he reported, “The soil has some natural magic to it which could help, but this whole castle feels magical.”
They scoured the nearby area for some other good spots and found what must have been a circular flowerbed at some point. Currently, all it had growing was various small weeds, but the bed was in the center of conjoining pathways. Soral could already picture the beautiful faerutil tree bringing the area together. He liked this spot a lot better, but Howler was the expert.
Howler inspected this just as carefully as the first location, if not more. “It’s not sealed on the bottom,” he noted. That would have been a problem, so that was good. He didn’t want to risk the roots of the tree getting stunted by a barrier.
“There is magic here too,” he continued, examining it closer, “Actually, it might even be more than the other because there is nothing growing here that consumes it.”
Soral was growing excited now. “Is it big enough?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. How large was the tree you saw? Did you see how the roots spread?”
“I don’t know,” Soral admitted, trying to picture its size, “It was smaller than the trees in the forest, but the branches were still large enough for a fox to rest on.”
Howler gave him an odd look at that description. “Hopefully the roots go down far enough to avoid the wall of the bed,” he said, “But it is safer since it is farther from any structures.”
“When should we plant it?” Soral asked.
“We need to clear it out first,” Howler replied, reaching for a weed.
Soral was a bit impatient to get started so he pulverized the weeds with magic and made them vanish, again to Doc’s old bunker. “Now what?” Soral asked.
Howler shook his head. “You really… Give me the seed. I should be able to figure out how best to plant it after I get a good look at its shape.”
The pointed seed was quickly handed over, and Soral watched Howler with an intense curiosity. “How long will it take to grow?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Magical trees grow at their own pace, even if you try to enhance it with plant magic. It could be decades, months, or even days.”
That wasn’t what Soral wanted to hear. He really hoped it was closer to days. He really wanted to try some more of the faerutil. It was odd how quickly normal food had felt lacking. The taste he could deal with, but now that he had experienced feeling full, his constant hunger was aggravating.
Howler seemed pleased with the condition of the seed. “It still has all its protective casing, and the point will make things a lot easier.”
“It will?” Soral asked.
“Yes. Most roots grow from the point of the seed,” Howler explained, and gently tossed some of the soil. “Could you wet the soil? It is a bit dry for planting.”
Soral followed Howler’s directions, down to the smallest drop of water, watching as he gently stabbed the point of the seed into the soil he had loosened and lightly covered it. Since it was a magical seed, he suggested that Soral feed it magic as well. Howler figured it likely wouldn’t grow at all without a large supply of magic to boost the sprouting process.
Soral knelt before the moistened mound of soil where the seed had just been planted and reached out his hand. How exactly did you feed a seed magic?
‘Close your eyes,’ Insanity guided, ‘Imagine sharing your strength. Show the seed what you need it to be. Show it what it must become.’
As he followed her instructions, he felt the magic leaving him from his fingertips. First, he imagined a sprout coming from the earth, growing into a sapling. He wasn’t sure what trees looked like between those stages, so he skipped to his memory of the one faerutil he had seen before. He suddenly jerked back as something jabbed his hand.
A sapling had grown. It was tiny, but definitely to tall and thick to just be called a sprout. It’s stem was still a bit green, but already had a brownish tint to it, and it hadn’t been damaged at all from its sudden collision with Soral’s hand.
“Amazing,” Soral whispered.
“I can’t believe it grew so quickly,” Howler agreed.
Soral’s stomach rumbled. This was no good. At this rate the magic he would need to make the tree grow would make him starve to death before he even got to taste the fruit. As he felt the gnawing emptiness and hunger, he got a terrible idea. Alcohol was certainly out of the question, but didn’t other poison give him magic boosts?