The afternoon sun cast its golden rays over Tassi's experimental fields, creating a mosaic of hope and frustration. Carlos walked among the planting beds, smelling the mix of damp earth and wilted plants under his feet. Some areas were completely parched, with twisted branches pointing to the sky like accusing fingers, while others stubbornly maintained small patches of resistant green.

  He found Tassi kneeling in one of the less devastated beds, her hands dirty with soil as she carefully examined the leaves of a plant that seemed to be fighting for survival.

  "Good afternoon, heroine of the Mocambo!" Carlos greeted, with an amused smile.

  Tassi rolled her eyes forcefully, letting out an exasperated sigh.

  "For God's sake, Carlos! I've lost count of how many times I've been called that today," she complained, rubbing her sore back as she stood up. "Even Mr. Elias, who lives at the end of the world, almost inside the forest, showed up here earlier knowing all about it. The man bombarded me with so many questions he didn't even let me work properly!"

  Carlos gave a soft laugh, the sound echoing gently in the quiet afternoon air.

  "Of course he knew. He and his wife have been your biggest admirers since you saved them from the monster attacks last month."

  "Yeah, but this time I was the one who needed saving by Pedro," Tassi retorted, her tone turning more serious. "I can't even explain properly what happened. When that monster transformed into that male figure... it was a beauty so disturbing that my mind just... stopped. I was completely paralyzed."

  "Who would have thought even the legend of the pink river dolphin would find an echo in this world," commented Carlos, shaking his head with a thoughtful expression. "But that's not why I came. How are the tests with the Grass Gem progressing?"

  Tassi's face turned dark, and she made a frustrated gesture towards the failed beds.

  "Stagnant. I was making progress, but now... it's like I've hit an invisible wall. I managed to map how different combinations of fertilizer affect specific species, but the most I achieved was making the plants last about ten minutes before wilting. I even tried harvesting and eating the fruits before they spoiled, but all I got was a terrible stomach ache."

  "It really is work that requires patience," acknowledged Carlos, running his eyes over the failed fields. "But, you know, last night, while reviewing some books from my world, I found a volume on agroforestry that might give you new ideas."

  "Agroforestry?" asked Tassi, frowning in confusion. "What's that?"

  "That's right," replied Carlos, opening the book and showing the colorful illustrations of lush, productive forests. "Look here. Basically, it's a system where you mimic a natural forest, but with plants carefully chosen to work together. They create a symbiosis, a partnership where everyone benefits, producing food with much less external intervention than a conventional plantation."

  Tassi moved closer, her eyes scanning the pages with growing interest. She put her hand on her chin, thoughtful, a dirt-stained finger pointing to a specific illustration.

  "You had mentioned something similar to me before, remember? About how beans fix nitrogen in the soil, which can be used by other plants, like corn."

  Every day that passes, she assimilates concepts faster, thought Carlos, impressed. She's evolved from a warrior focused only on weapons to a true strategist of the land.

  "Agroforestry goes far beyond that," he explained, turning the page to show a complex diagram of plant layers. "Imagine a forest with different levels. At the top, large trees, like walnut or Brazil nut trees, whose canopies provide shade and whose fallen leaves serve as natural fertilizer for the plants below."

  He pointed to the illustration, showing the different strata.

  "In the middle, fruit bushes like acerola, whose roots help loosen the soil. At the base, creeping plants like pumpkins or tomatoes, which protect the soil. The idea is to occupy every niche, every layer of light and depth, so they complement each other instead of competing. It's like... assembling a living puzzle, where each piece helps the other fit."

  Tassi stepped back, looking at her failed fields and then back at the book, her eyes shining with renewed understanding.

  "I see... It's like in nature, where everything is connected. The tall trees protect the smaller ones from the strong sun, the fallen leaves feed the earth, the deep roots bring nutrients to the shallow ones..." She bit her lip, thoughtful. "And each plant attracts its own insects and animals, which help with the balance. This... this could really work. I'll try it. Right now!"

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Reinvigorated by the new perspective, Tassi grabbed her staff and marched towards a nearby vacant lot. She planted the wooden tip in the ground and closed her eyes, concentrating. A wave of green energy pulsed from the tool, making the air vibrate slightly. The dry weeds withered and dissolved into the soil, which instantly turned darker and more fertile, exuding that rich, characteristic scent of wet earth after rain.

  Carlos didn't stand still. He walked to the experiment hut and returned carrying a heavy bucket of fertilizer, spreading it meticulously over the now-prepared ground.

  Together, they went to get the seeds from the experiment hut. The small space was a treasure trove of life, with carefully stacked burlap sacks containing seeds of all kinds – some native to the Mocambo, others imported at Carlos's request. The two sat on a rustic bench, turning the pages of the book in the late afternoon light, until they found a combination that seemed promising.

  "Look at this one," Carlos suggested, pointing to a detailed illustration. "We can try Brazil nut trees in the back, as the high stratum. Then, banana trees in the middle, which like partial shade. And in the front, tomato and pumpkin plants, which benefit from the protection."

  They planted the seeds carefully, Carlos making regular holes with his hands while Tassi placed the seeds with surgical precision, respecting the necessary spacing for each species. Then, Tassi raised the bracer with the Grass Gem. Her hands trembled slightly with the effort, and a fine sweat broke out on her forehead as an intense, pulsating green emanated from the gem.

  Before their eyes, a miracle unfolded. Green sprouts emerged from the soil, growing in fast motion. Seedlings turned into adult plants, branches stretched towards the sky, leaves opened into green fans. In a matter of minutes, where there was once only bare earth, now stood a dense mass of foliage, a mini-forest in full vigor.

  Carlos watched, amazed. "It's incredible... the amount of mana this must consume. It reminds me of the fight with the Mapinguari. Did your mana run out that day?"

  Tassi, panting but with an air of tired pride, leaned on her staff for balance.

  "I forgot to tell you an important detail... just because I'm an adept of Earth and Grass doesn't mean I have the same affinity with both." She took a deep breath, wiping her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand. "As you can see, my connection with Grass is much stronger. As for the fight... my mana didn't run out completely. If it had, I'd be dead, like almost happened to Quixotina. Luckily... you would know how to bring me back."

  As she spoke, a throbbing pain grew in her temples, clear proof of the immense effort expended.

  "Fascinating!" exclaimed Carlos. "You really are the perfect person to be the Minister of Agriculture. But speaking of which, let's see the results!"

  He stepped forward and picked a firm, red tomato hanging near the trunk of a Brazil nut tree already over a meter tall. He bit into the fruit with expectation. The flavor, however, was watery and bland, completely lacking the vibrant acidity and characteristic sweetness of a ripe tomato. It wasn't a total failure – it was edible – but it was far from ideal.

  Tassi tried a basil leaf and a still-green acerola. "The flavor is weak, just like the tomato..." she confirmed, with a hint of disappointment. "But more important than the flavor now is to see how long this ecosystem remains stable."

  Carlos sat on a rustic wooden bench at the edge of the experimental field. "At times like these, having a clock would be a great help. We could time it precisely."

  Tassi walked slowly and sat beside him, rubbing her tired eyes. "What's a 'clock'? Is it another one of those inventions from your world?"

  Carlos began to explain, using the tree branches and the sun's position to illustrate the passage of time, describing gears, hands, and the magic of measuring every second with precision. The conversation flowed, relaxed, and the shadows on the ground slowly lengthened as he talked about hours, minutes, and the revolution it would be to coordinate everyone's work with precision.

  Until Tassi suddenly pointed at the mini-forest, her eyes wide with astonishment. "Look! It's still here! It hasn't wilted! Carlos, your idea worked! It's a success!"

  She stood up with difficulty, her muscles protesting, but Carlos's enthusiasm was restrained.

  "The flavor... is still very lacking," he reminded her, pragmatically. "It's not sustainable."

  "That's the least of it!" Tassi retorted, very animated. "The important thing is that the structure held! I'll figure out the flavor later... And... I think I already have a clue." She walked to the edge of the planting, examining the flowers that were beginning to form. "Maybe, instead of forcing everything to grow at once, I should do it in phases. Let the plants flower naturally, wait for the pollinators to do their work..." She gestured, imagining the process. "Pollination is a fundamental step, isn't it? Skipping that step with magic, accelerating the process too much... must be causing some imbalance, some void in the fruit's complete development."

  Carlos also stood up, a smile of approval on his lips. "That's a solid theory. It makes perfect sense that a natural process requires its natural rhythms, even with magical help. But for now, I need to head home. Tomorrow will be a long day; I need to check on the progress of Nia's machines."

  He was already turning to say goodbye when a deep, urgent sound cut through the air, freezing the blood in both their veins: the attack horn, its lament echoing throughout the Mocambo.

  But how?! Already? We were just attacked yesterday!

  His thought was interrupted by Tassi, who grabbed his hand tightly, her fingers still cold from magical exhaustion.

  "Let's go! Now!" she ordered, pulling him in the direction of the center of the Mocambo, where the safe shelters were. The protocol was clear and recent: civilians without gems to the shelters; adepts with gems to the front line.

  But halfway there, still far from the center, when they could already hear the alert shouts and the running of feet, a figure emerged to block their path in the narrow alley between two houses. Nyran. And beside him were two Black men with hard expressions and weapons drawn.

  Tassi's heart froze. Unfortunately, what she had feared the most had happened.