The air in Tassi's experimental fields carried a sweet promise. It was no longer the bittersweet smell of failure and parched earth that Carlos knew from his previous visits. Now, a complex fragrance danced in the afternoon breeze—the floral perfume of fruit trees in bloom mixed with the earthy scent of healthy soil and the herbal note of green leaves. The sunlight, already lower in the sky, painted everything in tones of amber and gold.

  Carlos walked among the transformed plots when he saw her. Tassi wasn't kneeling in the dirt, nor focused on some fragile sprout. She was standing in the middle of a small but dense cultivation area, holding something up to the light with an expression of such pure ecstasy that he almost didn't recognize her.

  In her earth-stained hands, she balanced a lustrous red apple and an orange of such vibrant hue it seemed to capture the sun itself. Around her, small fruit trees—some already over six feet tall—bore fruit, and plots of grain swayed golden in the wind.

  When her gaze tore itself from the fruit and met his, her face opened into a smile so wide it made her eyes narrow into happy slits.

  "Carlos!"

  She came toward him, almost jumping over the furrows, her bare feet kicking up small clouds of dust. She extended the fruits to him like someone offering treasures.

  "Look at this! Here!"

  Carlos accepted the fruits, feeling their solid, promising weight in his palms. The apple was firm, its skin smooth and shiny under his fingers. The orange, heavier than he expected, exuded a fresh citrus perfume that made his mouth water.

  He raised the apple to his eyes, examining it against the light. There were no marks of rot, nor the withered appearance of the previous experiments.

  "Wait..." he said, his voice laden with cautious disbelief. "You mean it worked? They grew with just the Grass Gem? Without wilting?"

  "Yes!" Tassi's reply came in an exultant whisper. "And that's not all. Taste it. Go on, taste it!"

  Carlos brought the apple to his nose first, taking a deep breath. The aroma was sweet, promising. He bit. The skin crunched under his teeth with a satisfying sound, and the white, juicy flesh filled his mouth.

  The flavor was a revelation.

  It wasn't that watery blandness of the previous fruits. It was sweet, slightly tart, with the crisp texture of a perfect apple. His eyes widened involuntarily as he chewed, processing not just the taste, but what it meant.

  "You did it..." he murmured, swallowing. "My God, Tassi, you really did it!"

  Tassi let out a laugh, a light, victorious sound that seemed to make the leaves around them tremble in response.

  "Now we just have to see how long they'll last!" added Carlos, already thinking ahead, his administrator's mind calculating logistics, storage, distribution.

  "Those have been there for days," she corrected, proudly. "And I think they'll last much longer. Sit here, let me explain."

  She pointed to a fallen log serving as a bench at the edge of the field. Carlos sat, still holding the fruits as if they were precious artifacts. Tassi remained standing, gesturing animatedly.

  "After that day we had the idea to make the plants grow in phases, I kept racking my brain. Why does a plant that grew with the gem stay standing for a while before wilting? Instead of focusing on why it wilts, I thought: why does it stay standing? What sustains it?"

  Carlos finished eating the apple, leaving only the core. The sweetness was still on his tongue, tangible proof.

  "It stays standing by the residual energy of the gem," he suggested. "And wilts when that energy runs out. But what's special about that?"

  Tassi took the orange back, her face lighting up with the glow of someone about to share a hard-won secret.

  "With that hypothesis in mind, I asked Miguel from immigration a favor."

  "The Vision adept? What does he have to do with plants?"

  "Everything to do with it!" she said, excited. "I asked him to use that special spectacles, the ones that enhance the perception of magical energies. He examined these fruits, these grains... looking for any residue of the Grass mana I had used."

  She made a dramatic pause. Carlos leaned forward, the log creaking under his weight.

  "And guess what? Nothing. Zero." Tassi's eyes shone. "He confirmed: normally, plants wilt when the mana runs out. But these didn't wilt and have no residual mana. They are not being sustained by magic. They are... living on their own."

  Carlos frowned, trying to process.

  "So it worked?"

  "Yes!" Tassi exclaimed, taking a step back and opening her arms as if to embrace the entire experimental field.

  Carlos, smiling, asked.

  "And how did you manage that?"

  "Let me explain from the beginning. Remember our conversation about agroforestry? About how in nature everything is connected?"

  Carlos nodded.

  "The tall trees protect the lower ones, the fallen leaves turn into compost, the deep roots bring nutrients..."

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "Exactly!" she cut in, excited. "I used the Grass Gem only to accelerate the initial growth. To put the 'pieces' in place. But a forest isn't just a bunch of trees together. It's a system."

  She started walking toward the plots, and Carlos got up to follow her.

  "I planted following the agroforestry principles you taught me. Brazil nut trees in the back, for shade and structure. Banana trees in the middle, which like that half-light. Tomato and squash plants crawling in front." She pointed to each layer as she spoke. "I used the organic compost we prepared, not just magic. And I waited for natural pollination, let the leaves fall and turn into compost... But it still wasn't working. The fruits were born, but they had that tasteless quality."

  She stopped before a pile of rudimentary wooden boxes. The buzzing was louder here—a vibrant, busy sound. Bees.

  "Then, I had to help Minister Fernanda with the immigration crisis," Tassi continued, observing the boxes. "With so many quilombolas coming to the main mocambo... well, you know how it is. In the process, I met a man. Tiago."

  She pointed. On the other side of the boxes, a middle-aged man, slender with broad shoulders, was handling the frames of an open hive with his bare hands. Bees buzzed around him, landing on his arms, his neck, his face. He seemed not to notice.

  "He lived on a sugar mill," Tassi explained, her voice lower, respectful. "He was responsible for the hives. The mill owner kept bees for honey, of course. Tiago had been caring for them since he was a child. When he told me, something clicked. I remembered the basic biology classes at night, you know? About pollination."

  Carlos watched, fascinated and a little horrified, as Tiago removed a honey-dripping comb with no protection other than a worn linen shirt and cotton pants.

  My God, he thought, feeling an imaginary itch on his own arms. No veil, no gloves, nothing.

  "I thought," Tassi continued, her eyes following Tiago's skillful work, "if the natural pollinators aren't finding the flowers because they appear literally overnight... what about bringing the pollinators to them?" I placed the hives right in the middle of the experimental area. The bees did the rest."

  At that moment, an angry bee buzzed near Tassi's face. She tried to wave it away with her hand, but it was too late—a small zap and a grunt of pain.

  "Ow!"

  She rubbed her forearm where the sting swelled instantly, a small red and white mark.

  "Let's get out of the flight path," Carlos suggested, stepping back.

  They moved away, and Tassi laughed, blowing on the sting site.

  "Just ask the textile factory to make him some protective clothing," said Carlos, still shaken by the sight. "I'll pass the diagrams to you later. Veil, gloves, coveralls... it's basic."

  Tassi rolled her eyes, rubbing her arm.

  "Who said I let him work like that? He refuses! Says he 'always did it this way' and that 'the bees know his smell.'" She made a face. "To me, the pain is nothing compared to what I've felt. But that doesn't mean it doesn't bother. It stings like hell."

  Carlos shook his head, a smile of resignation on his lips. Some battles weren't worth fighting. He turned his attention back to what mattered.

  "Tassi, what you've discovered..." he began, his voice laden with a genuine excitement he rarely showed. "Is more than amazing. Food will stop being a bottleneck. We'll be able to feed the entire urban population that grows with the factories, the trade... We might even export. Imagine: quality food, magically cultivated but sustainable, being sold to other cities, to the Holy City..."

  Tassi's expression changed. The pride and excitement dissipated, replaced by something harder, more disappointed. She crossed her arms, and Carlos realized he had stepped on sensitive ground.

  "You know, Carlos," she said, her voice more restrained. "I understand that you have to do what's best for the quilombo... for the republic. But I..." she paused, searching for the right words. "I would like you to pass this knowledge to the Popess. So she can spread it. To the whole world."

  She looked at the fertile fields around them, her face serious.

  "This could end hunger, Carlos. For real. Not just here. In the entire colony. Maybe even across the sea."

  Carlos fell silent, surprised. He knew Tassi had a heart bigger than her sword, but this sudden prioritization of global good over local good... was unexpected. Strategically risky.

  Tassi saw his hesitation. Her eyes darkened with a shadow of old memories.

  "Unexpected, coming from a former warrior, isn't it?" she said with a bitter smile. "I never told anyone this... not even you. I was given to the royal palace because my family was starving. There was a reason, I just never told it."

  The air between them seemed to cool. The buzzing of the bees sounded distant, muffled by the weight of the confession.

  "There were five mouths to feed," she continued, her eyes fixed on a distant point, beyond the fields, beyond time. "My parents, my older brother, my younger sister... and me. I was the one chosen to be sent away."

  She swallowed drily, her fingers gripping her own arm where the sting still hurt.

  "But it wasn't just because of the hunger," her voice was a rough whisper. "I was never the daughter they wanted. My sister... she was beautiful. The flower of the family. She would have been a perfect concubine. She would have lived an easy, luxurious life, among silks and banquets. Instead, they sent me. The stubborn daughter, with scraped knees. I had to become a warrior by force." She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Huh. I even lost my point..."

  Carlos didn't know what to say. What comfort could one offer for such an old and personal pain? Instead, he gently steered back to the original subject.

  "About the hunger..." he suggested.

  "Ah, yes." Tassi seemed to pull herself back to the present, shaking her head slightly as if to disperse the memories. "Now that I've told you... I saw that it wasn't hunger that separated me from my family. It was just a convenient excuse. But if I can eliminate that excuse for other families... I'll be happy. I've met slaves here who were sold by their own parents. So they wouldn't all starve together."

  The simplicity of her desire, its purity in the face of political complexity, almost broke Carlos's heart. He let out a long sigh, the sound heavy with the weight of pragmatism.

  "Tassi..." he began, choosing his words carefully. "Your request is noble. More than noble. But... I don't know if I can fulfill it. At least not now."

  She looked up at him, a hint of disappointment already settling on her face.

  "The Popess sent me a letter," he explained, feeling the bitter taste of politics on his tongue. "High-ranking emissaries from the Church have arrived in Santa Maria. They want a meeting. To 'reassess' our relationship with the Church."

  He paused, letting the information hang.

  "Your discovery... this revolutionary technique of sustainable cultivation with magic... would be an incredibly valuable card up our sleeve. Something concrete, tangible, that shows our value beyond weapons and steel. Something that could completely change the tone of the negotiations. Crucial, Tassi."

  Tassi looked at the ground. Her bare feet sank a little deeper into the fertile earth she herself had created. For a long moment, she said nothing, just watched the grains of dark soil between her toes. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, resigned, but without bitterness.

  "I understand."

  The two words carried the weight of immense disappointment, but also the acceptance of a warrior who knew the cost of greater battles. She lifted her eyes, and in them Carlos saw not defeat, but redirected determination.

  "Then let's make that card as valuable as possible. So when you play it on the table... it changes the game."

  It was all she could ask for. And, in that moment, it seemed all Carlos could promise.