The Quiet Before the Storm

Stepping through the Wayslip was a disorienting experience for Ser Kaelen. For a single, vertiginous moment, he was surrounded by a whirlwind of green light and the scent of fresh earth and chlorophyll. Then, his boots touched solid ground, and the familiar, comforting air of Ren's farm filled his lungs. The portal of woven roots behind him shimmered and then neatly, silently, unwove itself, retreating back into the ground and leaving only a perfectly normal patch of grass. A journey that should have taken a week had been completed in less than five seconds.

"See? Much better than that bumpy carriage," Ren said happily, taking a deep, contented breath. "Ah, it's good to be home."

He immediately began bustling about, checking on his plants with the focused joy of a parent reunited with his children. The villagers, under his careful instructions, had done an excellent job. The 'Moonpetal' bean vines had grown, and the carrots were ready for another harvest.

Lyra, too, visibly relaxed upon returning. The capital, with its crowds and political intrigue, had been a cage for her senses. Here, she could feel the wind, hear the birds, and sense the life in the soil. She gave a small, contented stretch, her tail swishing lazily, before taking up her usual silent watch at the edge of the property.

Ser Kaelen stood still for a long moment, processing. He was a man of logistics, of maps and timetables. Ren had just rendered all of that obsolete. The strategic implications of instantaneous, undetectable travel between any two points with a patch of grass were staggering. The Archmage would have a seizure when he heard about this.

"Will you be staying for dinner, Kaelen?" Ren called out. "I was thinking of making a wheat-berry salad with some beans."

The knight found himself smiling. After the high-stakes tension of the capital, the simple, honest offer of a meal was a profound relief. "I would be honored, Ren."

The next few weeks fell into a quiet, idyllic rhythm, a stark contrast to the brewing storm on the kingdom's borders. It was the "simple, peaceful life" Ren had always craved. His days were filled with the satisfying work of a farmer: harvesting his glittering wheat and mind-enhancing carrots, experimenting with the 'Moonpetal' beans, and tending to his ever-growing variety of crops.

He learned to use his abilities in small, practical ways. He could encourage a plant to ripen faster with a touch, subtly alter the flavor profile of a fruit by "suggesting" it be sweeter or tangier, and coax water directly from the deep earth to his plants' roots, making his watering can almost redundant.

Lyra's presence was a silent, comforting constant. She acted as the farm's gatekeeper, intercepting the few foolhardy treasure-seekers or bounty hunters who hadn't gotten the memo about Oakhaven being off-limits. Her methods were never lethal, but they were always terrifyingly efficient. Word quickly spread through the underworld: the farmer's cat was not to be trifled with. Most of her time, however, was spent training, sparring with Ren (a one-sided affair where she would exhaust herself against his passive, immovable defense), and simply enjoying the profound peace of the farm.

Ser Kaelen, acting as the official Royal Liaison, became a true friend. His weekly visits were no longer just diplomatic missions. He would help Ren with heavy lifting (though Ren rarely needed it), share stories from the capital, and act as a sounding board for Ren's agricultural ideas. In return, Ren's simple wisdom and the profound calm of the farm helped to ease the knight's heavy burdens. The basket of produce Kaelen took back to the capital each week was now considered the kingdom's most precious strategic resource.

The village of Oakhaven prospered like never before. With a daily supply of life-giving tomatoes and mind-sharpening carrots, the villagers were healthier, smarter, and more energetic. Their own meager crops, influenced by the edge of Ren's domain, began to grow with surprising vigor. The village was becoming a small, self-sufficient paradise, fiercely loyal to their patron on the hill.

It was a time of peace. A golden, sun-drenched season of growth and friendship.

But it was a fragile peace.

Archmage Vance, through his scrying pools and network of spies, kept a close watch on the Queendom of Saccharo. The reports were grim. Queen Carmella, a notoriously vain and obsessive ruler, had taken Ren's refusal as a personal, unforgivable insult. Her ambassador's humiliation had sealed the deal. She was not just posturing anymore; she was actively preparing for war. Her legions were drilling, her siege engines were being constructed, and her court mages were researching ways to breach Eldoria's defenses.

Their primary target was not the capital, but Oakhaven. They wanted to seize the "Miracle Farmer" and his land, believing that by controlling the source of the miracles, they could bring Eldoria to its knees.

One evening, as the sun set, casting long shadows over the peaceful farm, Ser Kaelen arrived, not on his usual weekly schedule, but in a rush, his face grim.

"Ren," he said, his voice low and urgent. "The time has come. Our spies have confirmed it. The Saccharo army has begun its march. They will cross our border within three days."

Ren was in the middle of harvesting his 'Moonpetal' beans, the silvery pods glowing softly in the twilight. He stopped and looked at Kaelen, his calm expression unwavering. "An army? They're really going through with it? That seems like a lot of trouble for some vegetables."

"They are not coming to trade, Ren. They are coming to conquer," Kaelen said. "The Royal Army is mobilizing to meet them at the border pass, but the Saccharo force is larger. The King asks for nothing, but I am asking, as your friend: we need your help."

Lyra stepped forward from the shadows, her eyes like chips of ice. "How many?"

"Their main legion numbers twenty thousand," Kaelen replied grimly. "And they are led by General Cassian, 'The Iron Tsunami,' a ruthless but brilliant tactician. They also have a contingent of battle-mages known as the 'Sugar-Glass Coven,' who specialize in destructive crystal-based magic."

A force of twenty thousand was a massive, kingdom-threatening army.

Ren looked around at his peaceful farm. He looked at the lights of Oakhaven twinkling in the valley below, a village of happy, healthy people who worshipped him. He looked at Lyra, his fierce, loyal friend. He looked at Kaelen, the good man burdened by the troubles of the world.

These people, this land... they were his. His farm. His friends. His home. And an army of pests was coming to trample it all.

A deep, profound sigh escaped his lips. It was not a sigh of fear, but of weary, bone-deep annoyance.

"Alright," he said, his voice quiet but resonant with a power that made the very air hum. "I've had enough of this. I wanted a quiet life. If the world won't let me have it, then I'll just have to teach the world some manners."

He turned and walked towards his shack.

"What are you going to do?" Kaelen asked, a mixture of hope and terror in his voice.

Ren paused at the door and looked back over his shoulder. A strange, ancient light shone in his normally gentle eyes.

"I'm a farmer," he said simply. "And it's harvest time."