Gardener of Eden

Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Planting

Rowan was just resting his hands on the spade handle when the back screen door creaked open.

His dad, Arthur, stepped out onto the porch holding two cold glasses of water. He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes locking onto the patch of rich, dark earth resting where a cracked, lifeless slab of dirt had sat for years.

”Rowan...” Arthur blinked, setting the glasses down on the outdoor table and walking over to the edge of the plot. He knelt down, scooping up a handful of the dark, crumbly soil and letting it sift through his fingers. ”Where in the world did you find earth like this? I tried planting here three summers ago and couldn’t even get weeds to take.”

Rowan wiped his brow with his sleeve, a small grin tugging at his lips. ”It was under our feet the whole time, Dad. The top eight inches are just dead, compacted clay. But beneath that? It’s prime black loam. All we have to do is flip it.”

Arthur looked at the deep trench Rowan had cut, then back at his son’s sweat-dampened shirt and the heavy steel spade. A look of pride flashed across his weathered face, quickly followed by a chuckle.

”Well, you didn’t think you were going to flip the entire yard by yourself before dinner, did you?”

Arthur walked back to the shed and emerged with a second spade and a heavy garden fork. Stepping into the second quadrant—the eastern border designated for the wheat—he lined up alongside Rowan.

”Show me the rhythm, son.”

For the next hour, father and son worked in steady, synchronized cadence. Rowan chopped through the top crust and inverted the heavy slabs, while Arthur followed right behind with the garden fork, breaking down the clods of dark sub-soil and spreading it evenly across the grid.

With Arthur taking half the load, the work went twice as fast. Even better, as Rowan worked side-by-side with his dad, the subtle, invisible aura of [Breath of Eden] passively radiated outward. Arthur found himself breathing easier, his usual lower-back stiffness mysteriously absent as they churned through the remaining quadrants for the squash and sweet peppers.

By the time the late afternoon sun began to dip behind the fence, the entire 10x10 backyard plot had been transformed into a bed of rich, dark, raised earth, completely cleared of stones and ready for planting.

Arthur wiped his face with a towel, leaning on his fork and admiring the view. ”I’ll be damned, Rowan. It looks like a real farm plot now.”

The sun hung low over the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow across the freshly turned plot. The scent of damp, rich earth filled the cool air, completely replacing the dry, dusty smell that had lingered in the yard for years.

Arthur stretched his shoulders, looking down at the four distinct, beautifully leveled quadrants. ”Alright, boss,” he said with a grin, picking up the pouch of heirloom seeds Rowan had brought out. ”We’ve got the bed ready. How are we laying these out?”

Rowan reached into the pouch and gently brought out the small paper packets. His Legendary Intelligence instantly brought his drafted grid layout into sharp focus behind his eyes.

”Tomatoes and sweet peppers go in the central quadrant,” Rowan explained, pointing to the warmest, most sunlit spot in the plot. ”They like the heat and thrive near each other. Squash goes in the back corners—when those vines start growing, their broad leaves will act like a natural canopy to shade the dirt and keep the moisture in. And the wheat goes right along the eastern edge.”

Arthur nodded, impressed by the thought behind it. ”Smart. Let’s get to it.”

They knelt side by side on wooden knee-boards to avoid compacting the freshly loosened earth. Rowan handed his father a small wooden dibber, and together they began work.

Rowan took the lead on the Tomato and Sweet Pepper seeds. Using his thumb, he made small, precise depressions an inch deep into the dark loam, dropping two seeds into each hole before gently smoothing the soft earth over them. As his bare fingers brushed the damp dirt, his passive [Green Thumb] and [Breath of Eden] traits hummed softly beneath his skin. Faint, invisible ripples of life energy seeped into the soil, wrapping around the dormant seeds like a warm blanket and settling them comfortably into their new home.

Meanwhile, Arthur worked on the corner mounds for the Winter Squash, carefully spacing the large, flat seeds. ”You know,” Arthur murmured, firming the soil down over a squash mound, ”your mother’s going to lose her mind when she sees this. She’s missed having fresh tomatoes since we moved out of the old district.”

”We’ll have more than enough for her,” Rowan replied smoothly, moving to the eastern border to sow the Wheat.

Unlike the vegetables, the wheat required dense, uniform sowing. Rowan ran a shallow trench along the edge with his finger and carefully trickled the golden grains into the furrow. He covered them with a thin, light blanket of rich sub-soil, patting it down with just enough pressure to anchor them against the wind.

By the time the last seed was tucked safely into the earth, the sky had turned a deep indigo streaked with violet. Rowan stood up at the edge of the plot, dusting the dark earth from his knees.

Beneath the surface, twenty-four inches down into the black loam, a quiet, potential-filled pulse resonated between the earth and his awakened class. Every seed in the plot sat poised, ready to sprout under his care.

Arthur clapped a hand firmly on Rowan’s shoulder, looking over the pristine garden bed. ”Great work today, son. Now we just let nature do its thing, right?”

Rowan smiled softly, feeling the raw mana swirling comfortably in his chest. ”Something like that, Dad.”

The house was dead silent by the time eleven o’clock rolled around. Upstairs, the faint sound of his father’s gentle snoring drifted through the hallway.

Rowan quietly slipped out of bed, pulling on a light jacket and stepping barefoot across his bedroom rug. He glided down the stairs, opened the back sliding door with practiced stealth, and stepped out into the cool night air.

A silver crescent moon hung high above the suburban sky, casting a faint, pale luminescence across the backyard.

The garden plot sat dark and tranquil. To an ordinary observer, it looked like nothing more than a neat square of black dirt. But to Rowan, empowered by his Legendary Wisdom, the ground was alive with subtle, flickering threads of potential.

He crept to the edge of the central quadrant and sank down onto his knees. The damp midnight soil felt cool against his bare knees and palms as he rested both hands flat against the surface of the central tomato and pepper bed.

Rowan closed his eyes and took a long, steady breath, reaching inward to the reservoir of raw mana resting in his chest.

”Nourish,” he whispered.

A gentle wave of pale, vibrant emerald light erupted from his hands, seeping straight into the dark earth. Unlike the quick, diagnostic pulse of [Soil Analysis], [Nourish] was a steady, warm flow of pure life force. Rowan felt his mana pool tick down at a steady rate: 10 MNA per minute.

With his 15 Mana pool and Legendary Intelligence, the conversion efficiency was breathtaking. He guided the stream of mana carefully down through the soil layers, targeting the dormant tomato, sweet pepper, squash, and wheat seeds resting beneath the surface.

Under the influence of the spell, combined with his passive [Breath of Eden], the earth beneath his hands seemed to sigh.

Tap. Tap. Creak.

Tiny, rhythmic vibrations buzzed against his palms. Deep within the soil, the dry seed coats softened instantly. Tiny white taproots burst forth, aggressively drilling into the rich, dark subsoil to anchor themselves. Microscopic root hairs spread outward in a starburst pattern, drinking in the moisture and nitrogen reserves.

Rowan watched in awe through his mana-sense as green shoots curled upward, pushing through the soil with effortless strength.

Within sixty seconds, the flat surface of the dark earth cracked open.

Tiny, vibrant emerald sprouts pushed up into the moonlight across all four quadrants. Small, delicate tomato leaves unfurled; sturdy squash cotyledons expanded like tiny green ears; and along the eastern border, a pristine, uniform row of bright green wheat blades poked through the soil like tiny blades of grass.

Rowan cut off the flow of mana just as his pool neared its limit, sitting back on his heels with a soft exhale.

The backyard plot was no longer just a bed of turned dirt. Under the moonlight, scores of luminescent green shoots stood proud, thriving in the midnight silence.

A small, satisfied smile touched Rowan’s lips as he wiped his hands on his pants. The seeds hadn’t just germinated—they were already well on their way.