Seed of hope

Sol twirled the vibrant purple flower between his fingers, the glow reflecting in his dark green eyes. The thrill of creation still buzzed through him, but now that he had a basic grasp of his Plant Affinity, he knew he had only scratched the surface.

He let the flower fade, the energy dissipating back into his body. Standing up, he stretched, rolling his shoulders as he glanced around the abandoned space. His Plant Affinity had been exhilarating, but he had another affinity to test—one he had far more reservations about.

Time.

Even thinking about it made something deep inside him tighten. Time wasn't like plants or illusions—it wasn't something he could just play with. He knew that much. The few theories and myths he had read online painted time manipulation as something dangerous, unpredictable, and nearly impossible to control.

But he wasn't ready. Not yet.

Before delving into something as unstable as time, he needed to push his understanding of his Plant Affinity further. He could feel its potential stretching within him, and it would be foolish to ignore it.

Taking a deep breath, Sol let his focus shift fully back to the warmth coursing through him. The energy pulsed, rich and vibrant, waiting to be molded. As he concentrated, a thought crossed his mind.

"System," he said aloud, "did you create a training regime for my Plant Affinity?"

A brief pause before the system responded. "Yes. A structured training regimen has been designed based on your affinity's properties. Would you like to begin?"

Sol's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Start it now."

The system responded immediately. "Initializing Plant Affinity training. Beginning with foundational exercises: growth speed control, structural shaping, and extended influence."

Sol felt the energy within him shift, responding to the system's guidance. He knelt down and extended his hand, focusing on the floor. At first, nothing happened. He furrowed his brows, concentrating harder, trying to grasp the sensation he had felt earlier when growing the flower. A minute passed. Then another.

Finally, a single vine sprouted, curling upward like a hesitant creature emerging from the depths. It was slow, sluggish even, as if resisting his command. He pushed more energy into it, forcing it to move faster, but it quickly became erratic—veering wildly, growing in unpredictable directions before suddenly withering and dying.

Sol exhaled through gritted teeth. His Illusion Affinity had come to him so naturally, but this? This was different. It felt unrefined, clumsy, as if he were wrestling with something that refused to obey.

The system's voice chimed in. "Affinity synchronization incomplete. Early-stage development is unstable. Continued training required."

He let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, no kidding."

Determined, he tried again, this time controlling his output of energy more carefully. The vine sprouted once more, but it still wobbled, growing in awkward jerks. He gritted his teeth, pushing more energy into it, but the moment he tried to slow it down, the vine reacted unpredictably, curling in on itself before collapsing. It felt as if he was trying to guide water through a sieve—it slipped through his grasp, refusing to obey his intent.

Sol groaned in frustration but didn't stop. Again and again, he tried, each attempt slightly better than the last but still frustratingly inconsistent. Hours passed as he kept at it, his breathing becoming heavier, his control inching forward at a painstakingly slow pace. His arms ached from exertion, sweat clinging to his skin, but he refused to give up.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally noticed something. It wasn't the sheer amount of life force he poured into the vine that determined its movement—it was the way he directed it. The energy had to flow in a precise, measured manner. Too much, and the plant grew wild and untamed. Too little, and it barely sprouted. It was about balance, not brute force.

With this realization, his next attempt was different. He took a deep breath, guiding the energy with careful precision, channeling it in a steady pulse instead of dumping it all at once. This time, the vine responded more fluidly, rising smoothly, its form more stable. It curled gently at his command, almost as if it were an extension of his own arm.

He exhaled in relief, a tired but satisfied grin forming on his face. Finally. He was getting the hang of it.

"Next step: structural shaping. Adjust growth patterns to form defensive structures."

Nodding, Sol willed the vines to interweave, attempting to create a barrier. The first attempt was disastrous—the vines twisted together unevenly, collapsing under their own weight. He cursed under his breath and tried again, guiding the energy with more focus. This time, the vines responded better but still looked flimsy, full of gaps. A single hard push would break straight through it.

He rubbed his temples, frustration mounting. "So much for natural talent…"

But Sol kept at it, unwilling to accept defeat. He broke the steps down into manageable pieces. First, he focused on summoning vines in quick succession. This step alone took him over an hour—controlling multiple vines was significantly harder than just one. It felt like trying to control several extra arms that had minds of their own. Each time he split his focus, the vines would either grow wildly in unintended directions or fail to sprout at all.

It was frustrating, painstaking work, but slowly, he started to get the hang of it. He learned to steady his thoughts, to guide the vines rather than force them. When he reached a point where summoning multiple vines felt somewhat natural, he moved on to the next step—commanding them to intertwine.

Strangely, this part came more easily to him. There was a rhythm to it, like solving a puzzle, and he found himself enjoying the process. He experimented, weaving different shapes and structures—some forming simple rounded barriers, others shaped into rectangles, and one even resembling a beehive pattern, filled with intricate pathways.

He lost himself in the act of creating, pushing himself further, refining each design until he was satisfied. But then, something strange happened.

He had been practicing for hours, yet he wasn't feeling drained. When he trained with his Illusion Affinity, he could feel the slow depletion of his mental energy with every use. It took effort, and after extended practice, he would always feel exhaustion setting in. But now, with his Plant Affinity, it wasn't the same.

He frowned, staring at his hands. Why wasn't he tiring out?

He exhaled and leaned back slightly before a thought struck him. "System, do you know why I'm not feeling drained? My Illusion Affinity used up mental energy every time I practiced, but this… this feels different."

The system responded instantly. "Unlike your Illusion Affinity, which relies on mental strength and cognitive exertion, your Plant Affinity draws from the life force within itself to sustain growth. The energy expended is regenerative in nature, allowing for prolonged usage without immediate depletion."

Sol blinked, dumbfounded. "Wait… so does that mean I could keep my plants and vines out indefinitely?"

"In theory, yes," the system replied. "However, extended use may have long-term effects that are currently undetermined. Continuous growth may also be limited by external factors such as available nutrients, environment, and the user's stamina in extreme conditions."

Sol's eyes widened, his heart pounding with excitement. The possibilities were almost endless now. If he could maintain his plants indefinitely without exhausting himself, then what else could he do? His mind raced with ideas—fortifying areas with living defenses, crafting intricate structures that didn't vanish with time, or even using plants to create natural weapons that could persist without constant energy expenditure.

Then another thought struck him. If his Plant Affinity didn't drain him like illusions did, then what if he combined them? What if he could use his illusions to mask his plants, making them appear as something entirely different? A creeping vine disguised as a shadow, a thorned trap hidden within an illusionary pathway—he could create deceptions that weren't just tricks of the mind, but real, tangible threats. And the best part? He wouldn't be burning through his energy as fast, allowing him to stretch his abilities even further.

A grin spread across his face. "Oh, this just got a whole lot more interesting…"

"The system abruptly cut through his thoughts. "Introducing multitasking challenge. Maintain the wall while manipulating a secondary growth."

Sol clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Can't even let me be happy for a second, huh?""

Sol groaned but didn't back down. He extended his focus, trying to maintain the fragile wall while sprouting a second plant nearby. Instantly, the vines in his barrier began to unravel. The new plant barely took form before both collapsed, his energy spiraling out of control. He gasped, gripping his chest, the sheer effort leaving him winded.

He clenched his fists. Damn it. This is harder than I thought.

The system's monotone voice interrupted his frustration. "Assessment: Growth control—weak. Structural shaping—unstable. Extended influence—insufficient. Repeat training until results improve."

Sol let out a shaky laugh, wiping sweat from his brow. "Alright, alright. I get it. No shortcuts. Let's go again."

Sol exhaled, pushing himself further. A second plant sprouted near his side, this one forming sharp thorn-like extensions. The difficulty was immediate—balancing two different formations required more focus than he expected. Sweat formed at his brow as he struggled to keep both stable.

"Assessment: Growth control—moderate. Structural shaping—improving. Extended influence—developing. Proceeding to next stage: combat applications."

Sol grinned, his competitive spirit flaring. "Let's do this."