Book 2: 35. Company
The fact that the Blossomflame seed had been so cheap to infuse had removed a strain from her heart. Not only did this practically verify the theory that infusion costs solely depended on the final or mature – there was a bit of a definition void there – size of the plant, but also removed the fear of running out of vitality by infusing plants. Only an evolved tree could truly present a danger to her reserves at this point.
“Evolved trees, huh.” A thought wandered into Aloe’s head. “How did Karaim infuse the ter’nar if he didn’t have pills like me? He did mention that it had been quite taxing to him in the cultivation technique, but... hmm...” She gave it another moment to think. “A tree is around a third of my previous deposit, so it should be half of that now, around fifteen percent. Let’s just say twenty for safety. So, because the ter’nar it’s an evolved plant that doubles back to a third, but let’s just keep it at forty percent.”
Better safe than sorry, she pondered.
“And because my total vitality reserves doubled... that’s doubling again to compensate for the increase. The final percentage is eighty percent then. Quite a lot, but nothing unfeasible. Though I guess it had to be rather painful for someone of his age.”
If she had fallen unconscious, puked, and hurt herself whilst evolving and infusing plants when she was basically at the apex of her life, Aloe had it clear that Karaim had more difficulties practicing the vital arts than her.
“I guess I can forgive you for your lackluster notes, old man.” She would never forgive Karaim for basically abandoning them and then dropping dead at their feet, but she could sympathize with the man’s efforts.
Aloe stood up from her seat and stretched her arms for the umpteenth time in the day. A groan accompanied her gestures.
“Alright then, time to plant this little guy.” She juggled with the warm-emitting seed in her hands.
She could have continued to experiment with the rest of the seeds, but she wasn’t willing to continue until her vitality was topped again. The infusion hadn’t been costly at all, but she needed every spec of vitality she could save up, and it was way better to recover it normally instead of with pills.
After growing used to dirt in the past month, Aloe hadn’t used the gloves much. A shame because they were basically brand new after she bought them from that retired farmer, but she was no longer grossed out by the wet dirt and plants. The only uses those gloves saw now was when she was harvesting veritas ink – though depending on Tamara’s acquaintance’s response there might not even be a reason to continue with that endeavor – and whilst shoveling feces.
That was one of the few things she didn’t like about living in the oasis, but it was inevitable.
“Now, where should I plant it?” The answer was clear to her, next to the parterre with the first Flourishing Spring and the cannabis plants. “Hmm...” But as she knelt down she came upon a realization. “The Aloe Veritas said that the Blossomflame drowns its enemies in flames... but what is considered an enemy?”
As much as Aloe feared being burned alive, she doubted that would kill her or even harm her if she had her ‘toughness’ internal infusion active. Her worry was actually placed on her plants rather than her well-being. Her well-being was left as an afterthought as of late.
“I would not like to have the cannabis reduced to ashes now that they are this close to blossoming. Or the whole greenhouse for that fact.”
She doubted flames could burn the place, it was made out of glass, iron, and stone; the only wood around was that of the shelves and tools, and the ter’nar, of course. Any fire would hurt more the plants than the building itself. And in an enclosed space like the greenhouse, the fire would make a lot of bad air.
“Can plants die from bad air? I mean, I can suffocate. But can plants? I guess not, they don’t have lungs.” She realized what she was doing and sighed. “Rambling won’t change the situation at hand, Aloe. You need to make a decision.”
It was a bit weird that she referred to herself in the second person, but not enough to believe the isolation was making her insane. For better or for worse, she had had a plentiful dose of social interactions these last days.
“Okay, I’m set!” Aloe raised her voice confidently after having given it some thought. “The Blossomflame is too valuable to be left outside on the oasis and it will also need to be watered daily, so I’ll just leave it here.”
The conclusion ended up being a roundabout of emotions and logic, but Aloe was satisfied with the result. The problem here would have been that she hadn’t acknowledged that there was a problem, but if she was conscious of the possibility then she could plan around it.
“Though it’s better if it doesn’t burn any plant. Or me, for that matter.”
Aloe made a hole on the parterre – away from the Flourishing Spring and the cannabis just in case – with her trowel and after placing the Blossomflame seed inside, she covered the hole back and patted the dirt with the trowel to level soil. She didn’t know if that step was necessary, but it felt adequate to do so.
“I do need to get the water from the Flourishing Spring to here, though.”
The separation wasn’t that big, enough for the Blossomflame to not interfere with either of the already grown plants and also giving it some space to grow, but the water would be long used up by the cannabis before the moisture of the soil reached it.
“I guess I’ll need to carve another palm pipe.” Aloe half-sighed half-groaned as she made her way out of the greenhouse, but in reality, she wasn’t bothered by this.
After having carved several pipes, she had gained some proficiency in leaf carving, and whilst she was far away from the mastery of woodworker, she could manage the knife well enough. And the repeated strokes of the edge against the hard leaves were a rather soothing activity.
As she disposed to get a leaf for her project, Aloe was greeted by the only other resident of the oasis.
“Wroo!” Fikali greeted her.
“Heya, Fikali. Finally up?” Aloe replied in kind with a knife in hand.
“Hro.” The old dweller affirmed, or at least that was what Aloe felt she had done.
“If you excuse me then, I have a leaf to cut.” Aloe turned her back to the monsters and started climbing the tree.
She picked a short one on purpose because the best sections of a palm tree leaf, the most durable and straight ones, were on its base. And no matter how short the tree she had picked was, it was still a palm tree. And Aloe was still Aloe. Which was to say short.
The palm tree’s bark pressed against her hands, but the climb itself wasn’t difficult. Palm trees, unlike other kinds of trees, had a lot of places where to grip oneself. With a bit of stretching and groaning, Aloe cut from the root the closest leaf to her, which then unceremoniously hit her face and fell to the ground.
“Ugh!” Aloe groaned, resisting the urge to caress her head so she wouldn’t fall, and made her way down. When she was close enough to the ground, she hopped out instead of continuing to press her battered and still unhealed hands against the thatch.
“Wro?” Fikali tilted her head to the side as she smelled the leaf on the ground.
“I need this to make more pipes to water another plant in the greenhouse,” Aloe explained, putting her imagination to use to guess what the dweller had asked.
“Wroo.” The dweller’s response was beyond Aloe’s comprehension, but she patted her on the head, nonetheless.
“There, there.” She accompanied her gestures with words. “Good girl.”
Learning from before, Aloe had taken the satchels out of her garb and carried them with her on top of her summer dress. Thankfully this piece of linen was old because between the planting and the climbing, she had made quite a mess on the fabric. To congratulate the dweller, she took a handful of pistachios out.
“Here.” Aloe threw a single pistachio at Fikali’s closed jaws. Not even halfway through the nut’s flight, the dweller had already opened her mouth. “Good girl.” She petted Fikali once more as she fed her another pistachio.
“Wrooo!” The dweller grunted happily as she waved her claws around nonchalantly but non-threateningly.
Aloe started working on the leaf, firstly cutting most of the tip away as the pipe she needed was more on the short side and she only needed the base for that. Every cut or two, Aloe fed a pistachio to Fikali to keep her around so she could make her some company.
Company was good, even if she had run away from it.
Non-human company was good.
“Have the wild dwellers appeared again around the oasis?” Aloe absentmindedly asked Fikali as she trimmed the leaf, the pistachios slowly dwindled even though she was handing them out slowly. The old dweller was also patient enough to not snatch them up.
“Hro,” Fikali responded in what seemed to be a negation.
“I see.” The girl handed the monster another pistachio. “I know I made them out, but it’s quite the shame they have not reappeared. Free workforce is always welcome.”
“Wroooo! Wrooo!” Fikali began to bellyflop on the spot out of nowhere.
Apparently, she didn’t think the same.