The sun was gently warm in the temple’s early morning. The rich smell of fresh fruit and dewy leaves hung in the air. Seteden hummed while he watered the last flower bush and then remarked the beauty of the enchantment behind the bush’s plentiful assortment of bright-colored flowers all growing from one plant. The petals of a red rose bloomed on the same branch as a white tulip and a daisy; Seteden was impressed. It takes true talent to be able to craft such a garden, and Seteden was honored that it was his job to tend to it each day.

  After watering the temple’s gardens, Seteden swept around the perimeter, clearing the holy space of any unwanted materials while brushing fallen petals and loose dirt back into their flowerbeds.

  “Good morning, Loria!” Seteden waved to the pointy-eared elf who came to admire some of the garden. “It’s a wonderful day for them, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Indeed,” the elf said, “It’s just perfect. You know I always love seeing these flowers.”

  “They truly are beautiful,” Seteden said. He paused his sweeping to chat. “The fruit trees are also marvelous today; they might be ripe enough for you to take some home with you. Your daughter will love it, I’m sure.”

  “Thank you, Seteden,” the elf said, “I appreciate it. I’ll grab my share once I pay my respects.”

  “Yes,” Seteden said, “Come. I’ll let you in.”

  He dropped off the broom in its normal place, done with it for the morning, and pushed open the temple’s doors. After knocking on the inner doors and receiving permission, Seteden slowly opened the second set as well. He smiled and bowed to Lon before closing the door and leaving the two of them.

  Before he could escape to his next duties, an old man and his son, a little boy barely passed puberty, caught him exiting the temple’s interior.

  “Seteden!” the man boasted a greeting. He had a thick beard whose colors hinted at his age, although his build was that of a working man, his arms and legs as thick as sturdy branches. He slapped his son on the back, pushing him forward. He held his hands close to his chest, and his back and shoulders were arched enough that his shifting eyes didn’t need to prove just how nervous he was.

  “Meet Kophi!” the father said, “I think it’s time he learns from the best!”

  “Well,” Seteden smiled at the kid, “Lon is busy at the moment, but I’m sure Loria will be out of there in no time.”

  “I was talking about you, friend,” the man laughed.

  “Oh, no,” Seteden shook his head, “I’m not good enough to teach anyone.”

  “Nonsense! Everyone’s proud of our shrinekeepers! And everybody knows that you’re the best!”

  “I’m really not–”

  The temple’s doors pushed open, and the elf who emerged wore a great smile. Seteden smiled and nodded his head in greeting.

  “Hello Loria!” the father said.

  “Good day, Delaric,” the elf said, “I’m glad to see your little one is doing well.”

  “Ha! Of course he is! The day’s finally come for this squirt to learn how to garden properly!”

  “Well,” the elf said, “I wish you luck in that. If I may, I will be heading out now. And Seteden, I think I will take you up on that offer. She’s bound to enjoy some fresh fruit.”

  “Absolutely,” Seteden said, “Take as much as you want, of course.”

  The elf waved her goodbye to the three of them before wandering to the lines of fruit trees. Like the flower bushes, the fruit trees were enchanted for pretty much any fruit to hang from their branches. After some consideration, the elf went home with an armful of a mango, a few colors of apples, and a bunch of bananas.

  “Now, Seteden!” the man said, drawing his attention back, “I’ll leave Kophi to you! I will return in three days to check in! Please! Teach him the basics of proper gardening by then!”

  “...what?–”

  The father practically disappeared with how quickly he was out of sight down the temple’s stairs. Seteden stared at the boy, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. His fingers twitched and his shoulders were shaking.

  …Dammit.

  After a deep internal sigh, Seteden placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder and crouched down to be at his level.

  “Don’t worry,” Seteden said. “I can teach you what you need to know.”

  The kid looked around a little before nodding and whispering, “okay.”

  …

  “Do we have to be in the fields?” the kid asked. He followed behind Seteden as they walked down one line of the busy crop-fields that spread far into the distance. The kid visibly appreciated this environment a lot less than the shrinekeeper did. Seteden found comfort when his feet would sink ever so slightly into the soft soil and his robe would gather a small powdering of dirt on its bottom edge, but the kid kept shifting his weight tentatively, and he hesitated to step over loose roots and vines.

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  “Of course,” Setedon said, “This is where I learned–” still learning “–when I was your age. Your father trusted me to teach you, so this is how we’re going to do it, okay? I assure you, there is nothing to be worried about.”

  “I know, but…”

  As he trailed off, Seteden stopped and turned to face the boy. He crouched down again.

  “Do you not want to learn this?”

  “No, I–”

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Seteden said, “But, from me, it’s the most beautiful thing possible. As much as there is nature in magic, there is magic in nature.”

  Seteden stood and turned to the sprawling vine of melons they stopped beside. Lifting his hand and letting the mana flow through him, the melons shifted in place, distorting their form. The earth-rumbling sounds dissipated as soon as the beast settled.

  Blinking fresh eyes carved into its melon-made body, the fruity beast purred as it placed a paw in front of the boy. Even laying down, its eyes were level with the kid’s, which were wide-eyed and glowing.

  Seteden smiled. He knew very well the feeling that that boy was having right now.

  As the boy held out a hand, the beast pawed at him, harmlessly knocking him over. Seteden knew it was harmless because the boy started laughing. As the boy stood up again, the melon-beast rolled over, crushing a few of the crops below it, and its vine-y tail wagging in the air.

  “Teach me!” the boy said, his eyes bright looking up at Seteden.

  …

  “You can sleep here tonight,” Seteden said, showing the boy to a spare bedroom kept within the temple.

  “Thank you, Mr. Seteden,” the boy said, bowing to the shrinekeeper, and his new teacher.

  “Of course,” he said, “Now get to sleep. You’ve got more to learn tomorrow morning, okay?”

  “Yes, sir!” The excitement from earlier still hadn’t worn off.

  The door closed quickly, and Seteden turned back to the temple’s halls. His own smile didn’t dissipate as he swept for the next hour or two.

  When he finished, he knocked on the doors to Lon’s inner sanctum.

  “Come in,” Lon said.

  Seteden bowed his head after closing the door. It never became easier.

  “Welcome, Seteden,” Lon said. “What would you like to learn today?”

  …

  Seteden was up early the next morning to tend to the gardens once more. A mid-night rainshower left dewdrops on each leaf, fruit, and flower. He finished his sweeping before the temple received any visitors.

  “It’s time to get up!” Seteden called to the boy, knocking on his door.

  After a moment, the door creeped open, and the boy still had his night clothes on.

  Not an hour later, they were back in the fields.

  Seteden bent down and cupped his hands around a small bloom that would eventually turn into a great root crop, likely a carrot or beet. He packed the soil around it a little closer, padding it gently. The calm that washed over him distracted him enough to not notice the boy staring closely into his face.

  “Kophi,” Seteden said, “you seem eager today.”

  “I want to be able to do what you did yesterday!” the boy burst.

  Seteden chuckled a little. “Slow down. You still need to learn the basics.” So do you.

  “So teach me! I’m ready!”

  “Good,” Seteden said, “I’m glad you’re excited.” He parroted what Lon told him all those years ago. “But it’s a slow process. Plants grow slowly, and you’re not going to see the results of your labor for years to come. The same is true for any kind of magic. When I first started training, I could barely animate a twig–”

  “But now you can do whole orchards!”

  “Not quite,” he laughed, “I still have a long way to go, too.” He thought for a moment. “Follow me.”

  Guiding the boy back to the temple, Seteden contemplated more about his own upbringing. This boy was lucky to have a mentor, but it sucks that it has to be Seteden, of all people. Lon was a much better teacher.

  Winding through the temple’s interior halls and down a staircase, the two exited into an open-air walled courtyard behind the temple, inaccessible from any other way. A few trees were planted in rows, some still small and young, some with roots oversprawling their planters, standing tall and strongly blocking the sun. Seteden took the boy to the end of one of the rows, where a small willow was growing intently beside a towering oak.

  “This one is mine,” Seteden said, pointing to the willow, which was barely taller than he was. “It was planted when I became a shrinekeeper, and it’s my duty to tend to it every day.”

  “Woah,” the boy watched the small tree, then spun and pondered all the massive ones around it.

  “Every shrinekeeper has a tree, and many of them have survived long past the person’s life, as I’m sure you have noticed.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “These trees are sacred,” Seteden said, “Each one represents its owner’s passion and devotion towards Lon. Planting it is a statement; that I will be of service for as long as this tree lives, and I will do my best to see it and our people thrive.”

  The ceremony itself was a long process, but it was a day that Seteden remembered fondly. How he couldn’t wait to start the rest of his life.

  “Such growth takes time,” Seteden said, more to himself. “So be patient, and I’m sure that one day you may reap a bountiful harvest better than any.”

  …

  “Haha! Boy!” Two mornings later, the father came back to the temple. He slapped the kid on his back. “How was it? Did you learn lots?”

  “Yeah!” the boy said, “Mister Seteden taught me so much! I want to be a shrinekeeper, too, when I grow up!”

  The man laughed, “That’s wonderful! Now go run off home, your mother’s been waiting!”

  The boy turned back to Seteden and thanked him three times before sprinting down the temple’s stairs. Seteden watched him go with a tear building in his eye.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Seteden,” the father said. “You must have been busy these last few days, so thank you for taking care of my boy.”

  “It was…” Seteden trailed off, lost in thought. “I learned a lot, too.”

  The man laughed and slapped Seteden on his back as well, leaving it to sting for the next few hours as he swept the temple’s grounds. Sweeping a few loose petals and a bit of dirt back into the flowerbeds brought him close to the same bushes he admired every single day. Such marvelous craftsmanship deserved all the attention it drew. Maybe… Maybe one day he would be the one behind such a marvel. That day was still far away, but he would wait patiently as he strived towards it.

  Harvests Take Care.

  End.