Before they left the mine, Lenny performed a final spell to fortify the area. He extended his earth magic, commanding the land to reshape itself. The ground around the mine shifted and roared as large boulders and dense underbrush emerged from the soil. The rocky barrier created a jagged perimeter, effectively sealing off the mine from both escape and external threats.
Satisfied with the newly fortified boundary, Lenny gave a nod of approval. The mine was now secured, its location protected from wildlife and intruders. With a final glance at the subdued bandits, he turned and led them away, ready to escort them to their new roles.
----
Lenny stood at the edge of the newly tilled fields outside Rotengen, his gaze sweeping across the expanse of land that stretched before him. The low sun cast long shadows over the young wheat that had begun to sprout, painting the landscape with a warm, golden hue. A gentle breeze rustled the tender green shoots, carrying the fresh scent of earth and growth. For a brief moment, Lenny allowed himself to breathe deeply, feeling a sense of accomplishment at the sight of life returning to the once-barren ground. Yet, despite the progress, his mind remained troubled.
The city was expanding rapidly; new people arrived daily, drawn by the promise of safety and sustenance within Rotengen's fortified walls. Each new arrival brought additional mouths to feed, and the fields he had conjured were already straining to meet the demands of the existing population.
"Ten thousand people," Lenny muttered to himself, pacing along the edge of the field. "And growing every day." He gazed out at the horizon, where the land stretched wild and untamed. "I need to think bigger."
Calculations raced through his mind. To feed more than 10 000 people required 1,200 tons of grain every year, but that was only a starting point. The fields he had cultivated, though magically accelerated, could not meet the demand of a swelling population. The need for expansion was urgent, especially as more refugees arrived seeking refuge behind Rotengen's walls.
The amount of grain Lenny can produce in three months depends on his ability to accelerate growth and how efficiently he can manage multiple growth cycles. Under optimal conditions and with his magical prowess, producing 6,400 is possible.
Lenny clenched his fists, feeling the pulse of his magic within him. Expanding the fields was not a simple task; it required transforming vast stretches of land from cold, unyielding terrain into fertile ground.He muttered, "Sixteen square kilometers of arable land, just to keep us going for a year"
Jhene, standing quietly behind him, noticed the conflict in his eyes. " My lord is it still not enough" she asked softly.
"No," Lenny said, shaking his head. "Not nearly enough." The magic that had become both a blessing and a burden surged within him. Expanding the fields meant pushing his abilities to their limits. Weather manipulation alone was risky; summoning rain to nourish vast fields could create droughts elsewhere. Enriching the soil on such a scale might upset the natural balance.
"But what choice do we have?" Lenny said, more to himself than to Jhene. "The people need to eat. If I don't act"
Jhene stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "You've already done so much.....more than anyone thought possible. But you're right; if Rotengen is to survive, we need more than just walls."
Lenny's resolve hardened. "Then that's what we'll do," he said, his voice steady with determination. He raised his hand, feeling the energy in the air, and began to chant, ancient words of magic rolling off his tongue with a low rumble.
The ground beneath him trembled in response, the earth shifting and churning. The trees at the field's edge groaned and cracked as their roots moved aside, making way for the expanding farmland. The sky darkened, clouds gathering as if summoned by an unseen force. A light rain began to fall, soaking the newly tilled earth.
Lenny felt the strain as he pushed his magic further, his breathing growing heavy, sweat beading on his brow. He continued, driven by the urgent need to see this through. Slowly, the land began to change. The cold, rocky soil softened, turning rich and dark, ready to nurture crops. The vast expanse of fertile ground stretched out before him, enough to feed thousands and sustain a city in peril.
When Lenny finally opened his eyes, the field had more than doubled in size. The rain had turned into a gentle downpour, soaking the newly fertile land. Exhausted, he staggered, but remained standing. Jhene rushed to his side, supporting him as he caught his breath.
"You did it," she whispered, her eyes wide with awe. "You really did it!"
Lenny nodded, his vision blurred with fatigue. "It's a start," he said hoarsely. "But there's still much to do."
He looked out over the expanded fields, a cautious hope stirring within him. The work ahead would be arduous, but as he stood amidst the transformed land, he knew one thing for certain: Rotengen would survive. It would thrive. And he would do whatever it took to ensure its future.
-----
Baroness Eveline sat in her opulent study, the room bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. The walls were lined with rich tapestries depicting scenes of past glories, and a large mahogany desk dominated the space, cluttered with documents and maps. Eveline, a striking figure with a commanding presence, paced slowly as she contemplated her next move. Her fingers lightly traced the edge of a map of Rotengen, her mind preoccupied with both the city's plight and the rumors she had heard.
Sitting behind her desk, her trusted advisor, Sir Alwyn, studied her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Baroness, the emissaries are prepared. They await your final instructions."
Eveline nodded absently, her gaze fixed on the map. "I have been following the situation in Rotengen closely," she said, her voice thoughtful. "The city's struggles are significant, but so are the opportunities. I've heard whispers about Prince Martin and his powers—claims of his abilities to command the very land itself."
Sir Alwyn's eyebrows raised slightly. "You've heard rumors of his power, then?"
Eveline's expression was a mix of intrigue and cautious optimism. "Yes. Stories of his ability to control the elements, to reshape the land—if even a fraction of those rumors are true, he could be an extraordinary ally or a formidable obstacle. Either way, he is someone we cannot afford to ignore."
She paused, her fingers tapping lightly on the map. "If the prince is as capable as they say, he will understand the value of such an alliance. But I must ensure that my motives are clear and that our intentions align."
Sir Alwyn approached her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "And if he proves to be more than just a prince with power?"
Eveline's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then I must be prepared. An alliance with someone like Prince Martin could open doors to new alliances and opportunities. But it also means I must be vigilant. If he possesses the power to reshape the land, he might also have the strength to challenge established power structures."
She returned to her desk, her fingers hovering over the documents. "The emissaries will convey our offer with the utmost clarity. We are prepared to support Rotengen in its time of need, but we also expect transparency and mutual benefit. If he accepts our offer, he will have to acknowledge the terms and the role we seek in the city's future."
Her gaze hardened with resolve. "I am not merely interested in rebuilding Rotengen. I am intrigued by the potential of an alliance with someone who commands such power. The city's revival is a means to an end, a way to position ourselves strategically.
She turned to Sir Alwyn, her expression resolute. "Prepare the emissaries. Ensure they are well-equipped with the details of our offer and the expectations we have. We must approach this with both ambition and caution."
Sir Alwyn nodded, a determined look in his eyes. "Understood, Baroness. The emissaries will leave at once."
As Alwyn departed, Eveline remained by the window, lost in thought. The future of Rotengen, and perhaps even her own destiny, hinged on the outcome of this negotiation. The prince was a wildcard, a factor she could not fully predict. But the potential rewards were too great to ignore.