Chapter 689: Three Steps and Other Things

Kael remained in the garden for almost another hour without doing anything that could be called work.

Sylphie finished separating the dry leaves, Seraphine read to the end of a chapter, and the nameless man continued watching the four sprouts as though something might change between one blink and the next.

Umbra had disappeared from beneath the bench several minutes earlier, although Kael knew she was still nearby.

It was Elion who interrupted the peace.

He appeared on the path leading from the mansion with a small crystalline structure resting in both hands.

Kael recognized the matrix immediately.

At its center, a violet light floated between small transparent fragments, pulsing slowly.

Kael stood.

“Is there a problem?”

The question came out by habit, but he didn’t take a single step toward Elion.

“No.”

Elion adjusted the matrix in his hands and looked at the light.

“He asked to come here.”

The small crystalline presence flashed blue for an instant.

“I asked.”

The voice came clearly from the matrix, without the absolute neutrality it had possessed when it still served as the Primary Reference.

Sylphie set the leaves aside.

“You wanted to see the garden?”

She approached only enough to get a better look, without touching the structure.

“Yes.”

The light returned to violet.

“I heard repeated references to it.”

Kael looked at the nameless man.

He immediately pressed the notebook protectively against his chest.

“I didn’t tell him.”

“I wasn’t accusing you.”

Kael returned his attention to the former Reference.

“Does Elion talk about the garden?”

“Not often,” the creature replied. “But he mentioned that you planted seeds. Then he mentioned that some had germinated.”

Elion sighed.

“I was explaining why you weren’t appearing in the laboratory for half the day.”

Kael raised an eyebrow.

“You were tracking my routine?”

“No. Amelia asked whether I needed you.”

“Naturally.”

Elion carried the matrix to the low table near the tree and placed it on the wood.

As soon as the structure became stable, the light at its center expanded slightly, forming a small crystalline body above the base.

It was no larger than two hands placed together.

The fragments making up its form floated separately, divided by small illuminated gaps.

The nameless man approached.

“You’ve never been here before?”

“No.”

“Did you want to?”

The creature remained silent for several seconds.

“Today, yes.”

The man seemed satisfied with the answer.

“That works.”

Kael looked at him.

“You’re evaluating answers now?”

“No. I just liked it.”

The small creature turned toward the garden.

“There is a difference between the records of a place and being inside it.”

Kael sat again.

“There is.”

“The records indicated temperature, humidity, species present, dimensions, and historical changes.”

The creature tilted its head toward the tree canopy.

“None of them described the movement of the leaves correctly.”

Sylphie smiled.

“Because there isn’t a single movement to record.”

“I’m noticing that.”

A current of wind passed through the garden.

The leaves above them moved, producing a quiet, irregular sound.

The creature continued staring upward until the wind disappeared.

Then it spoke.

“I liked that.”

No one answered immediately.

Not because the statement was strange.

Precisely because it didn’t require an answer.

The nameless man opened his notebook.

The creature turned.

“Are you going to record it?”

He stopped with the pencil in the air.

“Can I?”

The violet light flickered.

“I don’t know.”

“Then I won’t write it.”

He closed the notebook.

The creature remained motionless for several seconds.

“Thank you.”

Kael observed the exchange without interfering.

Elion pulled over a chair and sat down, apparently satisfied that he didn’t need to explain anything technical.

Sylphie pointed toward the garden beds.

“Do you want to see where we planted everything?”

“Yes.”

Elion reached for the matrix again, but the creature spoke before he could lift it.

“I can move within the current limit.”

Elion stopped.

“You can.”

The crystalline fragments detached from the base and moved slowly through the air.

The small form floated toward the first garden bed, remaining just above the soil.

The nameless man went with it.

“This one is mine.”

The creature looked at the wooden sign.

MY GARDEN BED.

“I wrote it.”

“Because you still haven’t chosen a name.”

“Yes.”

The creature remained facing him.

“Neither have I.”

The man nodded.

“You don’t have to choose now.”

“That is what I was told.”

“It’s a good rule.”

Kael noticed Sylphie looking at him.

“I wasn’t the one who said that,” he commented.

“I know.”

She rested her shoulder against his.

“This time.”

The former Reference spent several minutes examining the sprouts.

It didn’t try to analyze them aloud, compare growth rates, or consult any records.

It simply stayed there.

When it returned to the matrix, the light was more blue than violet.

“I want to come again.”

Elion answered immediately.

“We can arrange that.”

The creature corrected him.

“I want to decide when.”

Elion fell silent for a moment.

Then nodded.

“Then you tell me whenever you want to come.”

“Yes.”

Kael settled back onto the bench.

It seemed like a sufficiently simple solution.

The next morning, Sylphie woke before him.

Kael noticed when he opened his eyes and found the elf sitting beside the bed, already dressed.

“You’re watching me sleep?”

“I’m waiting for you to wake up.”

“Is that better?”

“A little.”

Kael sat up and moved his shoulder.

Nothing.

He took a deep breath.

Nothing.

He rotated his ankle.

Nothing.

Sylphie placed a hand against his chest.

“You didn’t start on your own.”

She allowed Natural Mana to flow through his channels before he could answer.

“I’m learning.”

“I know.”

She finished the examination and removed her hand.

“Three.”

Kael smiled.

“With intervals?”

“Five minutes between each.”

“Fair.”

After breakfast, they went to the courtyard.

This time, only the nameless man accompanied them.

Seraphine preferred to remain in the library, while Umbra appeared several minutes later, emerging from the shadow of a column.

Sylphie marked fifteen meters.

Kael looked at the distance.

“We’re progressing.”

“Don’t get excited.”

The first Celestial Step was clean.

Kael felt the mana descend through his channels, reinforce his legs, hips, and spine, then disappear the moment he completed the deceleration.

Sylphie examined him.

No change.

They waited five minutes.

The nameless man watched the clock, but this time Kael didn’t complain.

The second Step was performed in the opposite direction.

Just as stable.

After another interval, Sylphie allowed the third.

Kael moved.

Fifteen meters.

Stopped.

Breathed.

No pain.

No pressure.

No strange reaction from his ankle.

Sylphie approached and performed the final examination.

Kael waited without asking.

She noticed.

“You’re not going to pressure me?”

“I’m waiting for the result.”

“That’s progress too.”

“Sylphie.”

She smiled and finished.

“You’re fine.”

“Completely?”

“Your body has recovered.”

Kael remained motionless for a moment.

He didn’t feel the explosive satisfaction he had imagined during the first days of rest.

It was simpler than that.

His body worked again.

“Then I can return to normal training.”

“Gradually.”

He opened his mouth.

Sylphie touched his chest with one finger.

“You spent weeks injured. Recovered does not mean you should leave here and perform three hundred Steps until you discover where your limit is.”

“I wouldn’t do three hundred.”

Umbra appeared.

“How many?”

Kael thought.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Good answer,” Sylphie said.

The nameless man was already writing.

Kael looked at him.

“You’re going to write that I recovered?”

“Yes.”

He wrote a few more words.

Then showed him.

KAEL USED THREE STEPS.

ALL OF THEM WORKED.

SYLPHIE SAID HE HAS RECOVERED.

KAEL DIDN’T ARGUE MUCH.

Kael pointed at the final line.

“That ‘much’ is unnecessary.”

“But accurate.”

Kael didn’t argue.

The man added another word.

CONFIRMED.

“You’re becoming dangerous with that notebook.”

He smiled.

After training, Kael didn’t look for Amelia.

He went to the kitchen.

Marta had already set the pears aside.

“So you passed the test?”

She placed a bowl on the counter.

“I did.”

“Good. Wash your hands.”

Kael obeyed.

Sylphie entered right behind him and picked up the cookbook he had brought.

“You’re going to follow this recipe?”

“With Marta’s changes.”

“So technically, you’re already modifying a recipe before your first attempt.”

Kael looked at her.

“I have supervision.”

Marta nodded.

“He does.”

This time, the nameless man appeared several minutes later carrying his notebook and the copy of the plum tart recipe.

“Can I help?”

Kael pointed toward the pears.

“You can peel them.”

Marta handed him a small knife and showed him how to remove the peel without wasting half the fruit.

The first strip came off too thick.

The man examined it.

“I did it wrong.”

“No,” Marta replied. “You just removed more fruit with it. Make it thinner next time.”

He tried again.

Better.

Meanwhile, Kael prepared the dough.

This time, he didn’t crush the butter against the bowl.

Marta noticed.

“You learned.”

“I pay attention.”

Sylphie replied from the other counter:

“When you want to.”

Kael ignored her.

The pears were cut into thin slices and mixed with a smaller amount of sugar, butter, and cinnamon.

Kael tasted a small portion before placing the filling over the dough.

“Not enough cinnamon.”

Marta tried it.

“You can add more.”

The man tasted it next.

“I like it like this.”

Sylphie tried it too.

“A little more.”

Kael added a small amount.

He tasted it again.

“Now.”

Umbra appeared beside the bowl.

“I need to verify it.”

“No.”

“For safety.”

“Did you eat two pears yesterday?”

“That was never proven.”

Marta handed her a slice.

Kael looked at the cook.

“You’re not helping.”

“I’m helping keep the kitchen peaceful.”

The tart was assembled and placed in the oven.

Kael looked at the clock.

“Now we wait.”

The nameless man opened his notebook.

“How long?”

“Forty minutes,” Marta replied.

He wrote it down.

Kael pointed.

“You don’t need to record the oven time.”

“I want to compare it with the other one.”

Kael thought about it.

“Fair.”

They ate the tart in the garden.

The crust was slightly thinner than the first one, and the pear filling had a milder flavor.

The cinnamon only appeared at the end.

Kael tried a bite.

“Better than the bakery’s.”

Sylphie looked at him.

“You made it. Your opinion isn’t impartial.”

“It’s still better.”

The nameless man ate slowly.

Then opened his notebook.

Kael waited.

“Which one won?” he asked.

The man thought seriously.

“The plum one.”

“Why?”

“It has more flavor.”

Kael nodded.

“Fair.”

Umbra, already on her second slice, spoke.

“The pear one.”

Sylphie chose the same.

Seraphine, who had arrived in time for dessert, preferred the plum tart.

A tie.

Kael opened his own recipe notebook.

On the page after the first recipe, he wrote:

PEAR TART.

FIRST ATTEMPT: GOOD.

Then added:

LESS SUGAR. CINNAMON SLIGHTLY ABOVE THE RECIPE.

Sylphie watched him.

“You’re getting more detailed.”

“Useful information.”

“Are you going to write that you lost the vote?”

Kael closed the notebook.

“No.”

The nameless man opened his.

Kael immediately pointed at him.

“Don’t even think about it.”

He smiled and kept writing.

In the nearby garden bed, four sprouts remained firm beneath the afternoon sun.

The first bellflower had grown a little more.

The primroses still hadn’t appeared.

Kael was officially recovered.

He had work waiting for him the next day.

He also had a new recipe in his notebook, a tied culinary contest, and seeds that would still need several days to grow.

He didn’t feel any need to decide which of those things was more important at that moment.

The afternoon had room for all of them.