Page 9 of Growing Memories (Valley of Sylveren #2)

Ollas had been quiet on their walk over, mumbling to himself every once in a while as he went over his introductory remarks.

He probably could’ve managed just fine without her, but carrying his bag had given her an excuse to jest with him.

He’d never be as brash as someone like Gransen, thank the gods.

But he’d taken her teasing with good humor.

Yes, he’d gone a bit blushy, but he also seemed relieved.

More at ease around her than Eunny could remember him ever being in the last six years.

A touch closer to who he’d been before the delegation’s doomed rescue.

Professor Rai introduced himself, speaking for several minutes about the course and the syllabus.

Eunny listened with half an ear as she watched the assembled students.

Ollas had mentioned a mix of Initiate and Adept levels, and that was reflected in the fifteen people sitting in front of her.

Mostly Initiate Fours and a handful of Adept Ones, if Eunny’s judgment of age could be trusted.

A mousy kid sat in the front row, watching the professors with rapt attention.

Ollas stood and traded places with Rai, his limp more pronounced as he walked the few steps without his cane.

He glanced at Eunny as he leaned against the room’s large chalkboard before he looked out over the students.

“As you can see, I had a little too much excitement before the start of term.” His head dipped in a contrite nod, first toward Eunny and then at his bandages.

“Miss Song will be helping out in the greenhouse as I recover.”

Eunny gave the room a measured nod when Ollas motioned toward her.

“Went and broke your leg so you wouldn’t have to haul dirt, Professor?” a redheaded young man joked.

Ollas stuck his hands in his pockets, an easy smile on his face. “Dirt?”

A few groans filled the air.

“You should know better by now, Lark,” Ollas said.

“Dirt. Does that really fit? I’m not trying to be pedantic.

” He waved down the scoffs that answered.

“Dirt. That’s a throwaway word. Simplistic.

Calling it just ‘dirt’ doesn’t really do justice to all that potential. The life. We’re working with soil.”

Beside her, Eunny could barely hear Zhenya murmur the word in tandem. Eunny bit down on her lip to stifle a laugh—or maybe it was a groan—good-natured though it was. Bless their plant-loving hearts.

“Soil is the foundation of this class. The seeds you’ll work with, the plants and flowers we’re hoping you can grow? The properties in them start in the ground first.

“Saren and I approved each and every one of you for acceptance into this elective. We know what you’re capable of. You’re here because you’ve been good. You’re smart. You’ve all shown an aptitude for the material and sincerity for the cause. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Ollas smiled, but solemnity kept it from brightening his eyes.

“We’re asking you to be better. You know what we’re up against. We need your best, and for it to be more than what you’ve shown us before.

It’s a big ask. And it starts with the soil.

” This time, there was humor in his smile.

“Because there’s so much life in soil when it’s treated right.

It’s easy—too easy—to strip the land down until it’s just dirt.

You’ve all taken the regenerative gardening prereq, you know that it takes work to maintain soil.

Now, if you have seeds that want elevated heat and humidity to germinate, where should we start in building our starting mixes? Ennis?”

The mousy kid up front, Ennis, lowered their hand as they rattled off an argument for a named fire enchant Eunny had never heard of.

“Ollas loves this,” Zhenya murmured, leaning forward to listen.

Eunny made a noise of agreement. She was fucking stunned. Where had this Ollas been the majority of the time she’d known him? She didn’t know a damned thing about earth magic, yet he’d drawn her in. Had “dirt” halfway erased from her vocabulary.

Eunny found herself hanging on every word. Her mind raced with the possibilities for the elective’s seeds, how she would devise a small test to grow her own. He had her thinking about what a starting mix should look like.

Ollas was in his element teaching, confident but easygoing, encouraging the students to throw out suggestions.

Even when they were off base, the way he corrected was kind.

Informative while redirecting, never disdainful.

Eunny watched him field questions, and something about his poise… it was magnetic.

Occasionally, he would meet her eye across the room, and— Was it her imagination or did his smile seem just a bit wider when that happened?

That sensation of warmth fluttered across her skin, that pleased feeling she’d been experiencing around him.

With him. From him? Pleased, and not in a platonic, celebration-of-a-friendship-saved kind of way.

A good friend, as he’d called her. Which had been her goal, right?

Signing herself up to help out for the elective, living in the room down the hall, all to help a friend.

But sitting there, catching those little smiles, their previous conversation rolling around in her head, Eunny felt that sense of dissatisfaction coming up again.

Understood the emotion better now. Could do more than touch it with a finger.

This side of Ollas—the calm, competent professor, building excitement and a belief in the magic of soil with his words—Eunny wanted more of it.

To roll around in this feeling and clutch it to her chest and?—

You broke him.

She balled her hands into fists.

No. Eunny couldn’t let anything develop with Ollas.

Foolish of her, getting carried away by a pretty speech.

He had her thinking of magic. Of learning and possibility.

Of a togetherness that Sylveren cultivated so well.

A sense of optimism that he inspired with sheer enthusiasm.

Gods, he’d almost caught her up in it, too.

Such feelings weren’t for her. No community, no belonging.

Eunny would do her part. Help Ollas with the manual labor.

Do what she could to aid the secret priority of the elective, working on a cultivar that could help Dae’s cause.

Eunny owed them that. If she could help Dae up in Rhell, she would stick it out here to the bitter end.

But she would not let this become a place for her. She wouldn’t delude herself that magic could be safe. Not ever again.

And Ollas, with his simple honesty—Eunny would watch herself with him, too. It was on her to atone, not for him to forgive. He was too nice, would forgive her gladly, and she deserved that least of all. She would have to endeavor not to forget it.