Backdated to April 25
The fish eggs hadn't hatched yet. Cyril said they seemed to be getting bigger, and the videos from Soleiyu's underwater cameras seemed to show them growing in size, and twitching outside of the current's flow.
But something still felt wrong.
The weather on Dering had been fairly pleasant from what he'd gathered from Cyril, but there had been one bad storm this week. At least two trees had been struck by lightning, including one between the river and the clearing, visible on the path he'd cleared out between the two.
Some of the eggs had scattered, so Julian spent a short while carefully scooping them back into their little cove. Lightning had struck one of the rocks by the river, breaking it into four chunks and rubble.
What luck, to be so close to life and still so far from it.
He didn't know if the lightning hit the water, or if it did anything to the eggs. The cameras had shown the impact, and the video flickered briefly, but Soleiyu had constructed the devices well enough that they survived the storm.
And then, the roseberries.
They were young and new to life, and Julian had replayed his decision to tuck them into a nook created by several large tree roots.
It might have been the only thing that saved them. He'd wanted to leave them somewhere they'd get more sun, but some niggling worry had settled in his stomach, so he'd tucked them in somewhere safe instead of somewhere sunny.
He'd been worried they'd wilt without direct sunlight, but if he'd left them anywhere else, they might have been shredded to pieces. Leaves and branches had been scattered all over when he arrived.
He left the pots in the sun while he raked things up and visited the eggs, and now he was back to tend to them.
All three had grown, to his relief–and all three looked the same, for better or worse. Either they were all roseberries, or none of them were..
The two that sprouted last week were several inches tall now, and the one that hadn't sprouted at all was now half their size.
They needed some sun, and so did Julian, who was half-dry from the river.
He sat on the ground, lute in his lap, and plucked the strings experimentally.
Cyril taught him a song last week, and a part of him wanted to think it had some effect, but he wasn't here often enough to believe it was more than just wishful thinking. And anyway, Cyril probably played to them throughout the week.
It was strange to not have him here right now, but Cyril admitted that the storm had left him feeling drained. He'd gone to 'check on something', so for now Julian was left to his own devices. He didn't mind; he spent a lot of time by himself both here and in Destiny City, and the solitude was peaceful.
Dering was more peaceful now than it was before he met Cyril. The forest still had a dreary fog more often than not, but it usually avoided the clearing, and there was still something forlorn and dreary in the deeper parts, but Julian had stopped trying to explore once Cyril showed up.
If Cyril said it was dangerous, Julian believed him. There was enough to do here that he never felt like he was missing out on things, and Cyril had been showing him more.
His fingers moved of their own accord but he didn't stop them. At first, he strummed whatever tune popped into his head--a little warmup while he got himself comfortable--and then he played what Cyril taught him. With more confidence now, not because he was alone, but because his fingers knew where to go even when his brain was too busy worrying about it.
The wind blew, a little. It was a gentle breeze, not even enough to rustle the leaves of the larger trees, but enough that the roseberries trembled slightly.
And then--one of them flew away.
Not like a leaf in the wind, but like a butterfly with somewhere else to be. It moved too quickly to track, and once it reached the trees, he couldn't tell the difference between it and the rest of the leaves.
For a moment, Dering seemed still.
And then, it seemed alive.
