The days that followed seemed to bleed into one another, and the village seemed to transform before his eyes.
Chris worked alongside Sera and Korr, planting what they suggested where they pointed out, using their descriptions and characteristics and feeling mild notes of surprise that they grew exactly as they noted but seemed to lack the voice the others had. Even the originals called them "hollow without life," adding that while they did grow and spread, it was at a far slower speed when compared to his original plants.
The demon plants from Korr were a series of low-growing thorn vines that spread across the outer approaches. Another species snaked through the sandy ground outside their village, all of them having spines laced with a mild toxin that numbed and slowed whatever they stung, with bulbous jagged petals that turned out to be razor-sharp teeth that allowed it to tear into its slowed and numbed prey.
Further in by the shadow berry vine now sat a few herbs slowly growing, all vetted by Sera. Predominantly a bushy plant with silver leaves that sealed wounds when crushed and pressed onto the injury—not as effective as the sap, but a far more explainable and easier to transport than trying to carry sap around while creeping between the shadow berries, being treated almost protectively by them. Another vine slowly seemed to be winding itself into its mass, its yellow flowers a very mild sedative when juiced and its sap able to dull pain. He grew them all, listening to the plants excitedly welcome the newcomers while making offhand comments on their lack of spirit, promising to try and breathe life into them. The village as a whole had begun to grow stronger, more layered and defended under Sera and Korr's directions and guidance.
But it didn't feel like his anymore.
He found himself following instructions, a gardener who took orders. The plants still responded to him, even the new lifeless ones, possibly due to being the one who grew them. The thorn vines would spread where he directed both above the ground and below, taking care not to prick him much like the gympie plant had. The silver-leaf bushes had taken root and even spread in the safe zones the Critic had marked out. The shadow berries had spread their berries and new vines had grown there, tangling with a few more of the yellow blooms he grew at those places. But he wasn't even choosing where to grow things anymore. He was just following directions. Each new plant that grew made him realize anyone with the seeds and the fresh soil made by the medical grass could have done what he was doing now. He was just the hands who could make things grow slightly faster.
The voice remained quiet the entire time, not having said a word since it taunted him, and yet somehow its absence seemed to make him feel worse. But it didn't need to speak. He was already thinking what it would say. His own voice speaking in his mind of it.
The little world tree's root was wrapped around his wrist more often than not these days, feeling his concern and trying to be there for him. Having picked up on what the others couldn't, or just didn't want to see.
Sera found him sitting alone beneath the cloud tree during one of those afternoons, the light having just begun to fade over the horizon. She tossed his bamboo staff in front of him, her gaze firm as she seemed to stare into him. "Get up." She all but ordered.
He didn't move though, instead mentally wondering what the point of it would be. He was a grower, not a fighter. The staff was a gift from a plant that had grown, wielded by a man who didn't know what he was doing when he tried to learn to fight, yet couldn't even do that right, ending up using the staff as a prop more than everything. It had started to feel like every time he held it, he felt the weight of what he wasn't rather than what he could be.
She simply stood staring at him, a hand on her hip and her face unreadable, her seemingly infinite patience and calm somehow feeling infuriating to him.
The little world tree's root squeezed his wrist gently as it told him she was trying to help, whispering that she had noticed how he'd been lately but didn't know any other way to help, this being how she was taught and her making an effort before. With an almost pleading tone it asked him to try for himself, for her and it.
He let out a slow breath, mentally grumbling but still standing, noting how Sera was already moving. Eventually they moved to a patch of open ground just outside the gate with Sera walking a bit further to stand ahead, turning to face him with her sword sheathed, having rather traded her blade for a wooden practice stick. It was shorter than his staff, but she held it like it was an extension of her arm.
"Your grip is wrong. Shift your hand a bit lower and ensure you can follow the basic rules of a spear or staff, that you can slam, slide, or even pull with it," she said.
He adjusted slowly under her guidance till she seemed to give a satisfied nod. That was when she moved.
The strike came fast but still slow enough to allow him to react. He brought the staff up, trying to block, but still felt the impact shudder through his arms. She was already moving fluidly, not giving him breathing room as the practice stick came from the other side. He twisted in response, barely managing to block it.
"Again," she ordered, steadily beginning to move faster now, trying to push him, making him work harder while pointing out various faults. How his footwork was sloppy. His blocks were too slow. But even so she made no motion to correct any of it. Instead, she just kept coming, kept forcing him to react, and expected him to do so on his own.
It was during a brief pause when she circled him, looking for an opening, that he noticed it. The bark-like ridges on his palms had changed how the staff felt. Not worse. Just different. The wood didn't slip the way it used to. His grip was firmer, more resistant to the jarring impact of her strikes. He noticed but didn't dwell. There was no time to dwell as she seemed determined to make him correct the errors she pointed out. But even so, he couldn't help but question why he was doing this, what use it had.
She came again and he blocked, only for her to twist and strike low, making him stumble. He only just managed to catch himself and bring the staff up to block a blow he knew would be coming.
Instead, she stopped and lowered her practice stick, her eyes narrowing with hints of annoyance. "You're distracted."
He didn't answer. His chest was heaving, sweat dripped into his eyes.
"You're improving steadily, but you can still be better." Her voice was flat, but there was something underneath it. Frustration, or maybe even anger. "You need to be better, Chris."
He finally looked at her, hints of his own anger slowly creeping into his tone. "Why? So I can keep trying to pretend to be something I'm not?"
Surprise flickered across her face, clearly having not expected that remark. "Your skill is in growing rather than fighting. I will concede that point, but this will ensure you can survive and face whatever may get too close. For when I can't be there to protect you." The words came out sharper than she'd intended but still landed like a blow.
They weren't cruel. Just a hard truth. But it seemed to make him once more wonder what exactly he was doing. Pretending to be a warrior when he was a gardener with seeds and soil? Every day he spent here, swinging a staff, was a day he wasn't growing something that could actually help. Something that was actually his and what he wanted rather than what he was told to grow.
She now doubts felt something as he began to think that, having opened her mouth to speak only to freeze up and turn to face Korr, who had appeared at the wall's edge, clearly having been watching but only now making his presence known.
His gaze went from the pair to the village, a smile steadily forming on his lips as he took note of the bamboo rows, the kill zones, and the way the new thorn vines continued to spread. "If I'd had this at the Eastern Front... maybe I'd still have my men after that battle."
Sera said nothing. But Chris noticed she didn't argue, didn't bother looking at him or saying what he noticed she had been wanting to say.
Korr soon looked back at Chris with a wide, pleased smile. "You've been doing well. The plants respond to you and the defenses are something far more solid. You should be proud of what this place has now become."
It was meant as a compliment. Chris could see the genuine acknowledgment of the work he had done, of the progress they had made. The demon wasn't mocking him. He was offering his respect. And yet it landed like a weight.
'You've done well here. Not how you've built this village. Not that this is yours. Just an acknowledgment that you've... contributed. You've followed instructions like a good little boy and grown what you were told.'
The voice chose that moment to once more speak up. An oily whisper and nothing more. 'Even she knows the truth. It's why she's trying to train you, to ensure you will still have some kind of use when you can't grow anymore. This isn't your village anymore. You're just the help, and anyone with those seeds and the now enriched soil could do what you're doing, could do it just as well if not better.'
He didn't respond to Korr's words or even look at Sera. Instead, he just walked away steadily, head down and face seemingly shadowed as he walked into the village. Faintly hearing the pair argue behind him.