He’s nervous, I realized.
That made two of us.
“I’d like to sit with you, if you don’t mind.” I gave him a small smile. “You’re the only one I know, and I’m not very familiar with earth magic yet.”
He nodded and considered me for a long moment. “This class is all about creating life from the soil. It’s a self-educated course, which is why everyone is spread out. Most work in pairs or quads, learning the feel of the earth and producing art.”
“There’s no professor?” All the courses I’d attended so far had someone in charge, but looking around, I saw none.
He shook his head slowly. “Most of our elders are, well, sick. There are a handful on campus who lead the more advanced courses, but you have to pass the intermediate levels—like this class—before you can join. And most don’t make it that far. But I’m close.” His brow furrowed. “I just need better control.”
I glanced at the pair of tree stumps and chose the one closest to me. “Well, you seem to be doing okay.”
“That?” He snorted. “That’s simple.” He pulled a paper from his bag and handed it to me. “That’s what you have to create to pass.”
I stared at a sketch of an intricate tree with fruit hanging from the limbs and vines wrapping around the base. Then I glanced around to see other students had already started growing their trunks while sitting on top of them. “Is this the first day?”
He chuckled. “No, we’re halfway through the semester.”
What? “Then where are all the trees?”
“Oh, we move them after class to the nearby acres.” He gestured to the forest around us. “They’re all thriving in their own way.”
“But why?” I asked, baffled. “I thought the purpose was to create the drawing.”
“You have to make it within the course hour,” he clarified, smirking. “Anyone can make that with enough time. It’s the speed that matters, and the tree in that drawing has close to a hundred or so years of existence on it. Not an easy task, especially when you lack control.” He sat across from me and pointed at the ground. “Let’s start with the basics. Press your palm to the earth and tell me what you feel.”
I immediately felt guilty. I’d expected a professor or someone to teach me, not Sol. He had his own work to do. “You don’t have to waste time on me. If you just point me to where the textbook is, I can start reading. I clearly have a lot of catching up to do.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Put your palm on the ground, Claire.”
I swallowed and did what he said, mostly because he was a muscular giant and that look on his face brooked no argument. And his tone, well, it sort of reminded me of Exos’s tone.
My heart gave a pang at the thought, my connection to him humming in response.
Still alive.
I closed my eyes, wishing I could follow the path to him, to find—
“What do you feel?” Sol asked, his deep voice drawing me back to him and the task I’d been assigned.
Heartbroken, I wanted to tell him. But I knew that wasn’t what he desired to know.
So I pushed my reservations aside and allowed him to help me. It was the least I could do since he’d chosen to take the time to help me when he didn’t have to.
Life fluttered beneath my hand, the tickle of grass against my skin a tease to my senses. I tilted my head, following the thread of the element into the soil beneath and luxuriated in the earthy notes filling my nostrils.
It felt almost refreshing. Cool. Hypnotic.
I sighed in contentment.
Fire breathed passion. Air stirred sensation. Water encouraged tranquility. Spirit warmed my heart.
“Earth is invigorating,” I breathed, swimming in the undercurrents of power.
“Yes,” Sol agreed, his voice thick with an emotion I couldn’t see because my eyes were still closed. I had the picture of a tree in my head, the one with fruit dangling from the limbs. Mmm, what I wouldn’t give for a peach. That wasn’t what I’d seen in the photo, but I craved the sweetness of summers past. My grandmother used to bake the most delectable pie. I could almost remember the smell if I concentrated enough.
My lips curled as I found the ingredients in the earth, not for the dessert, but the core ingredient—a peach pit.