She opened her eyes to find Tamsin nodding approvingly."Good.Very good.What you're sensing are the natural currents that flow through all living things, through the earth itself.Root-singing begins with this awareness, this connection."He knelt beside her, his movements deliberate but not stiff."But it does not end there.The true art lies in how we interact with these currents."
He extended his hand, palm down over the grass, fingers splayed."We can deepen the connection.Channel our own energy into these pathways.Encourage growth.Enrich soil.Make barren land fertile again."His voice took on a rhythmic quality, almost like a chant."And in its most powerful forms, we can even move earth itself, reshape what seems immovable."
Thalia watched, transfixed, as a subtle change came over Tamsin's features.His eyes half-closed, his lips moving in what might have been silent song.The withered grass beneath his palm stirred, though there was no breeze.Then, impossibly, color began to suffuse the brittle blades—yellow-brown deepening to green, spreading from the base upward like ink through water.
The grass straightened, strengthened, new shoots emerging from the soil alongside the existing blades.Within moments, what had been a sparse, struggling patch had become a vibrant tuft, alive with the energy Tamsin had channeled into it.
"The land remembers," Tamsin said softly, withdrawing his hand."It holds patterns of what has been and what could be.We do not create life; we remind it of its own nature."He looked up at Thalia, his eyes bright with the afterglow of the magic he had worked."Now you try."
Thalia's mouth had gone dry.She had seen many forms of magic in her time at Frostforge—ice shaped to impossible architectures, storm energy harnessed to power mechanisms and weapons, even the hybrid techniques they had recently developed.But this was different.Intimate.A conversation rather than a command.
She placed her hand over another patch of withered grass, attempting to mirror Tamsin's posture.The currents responded immediately to her awareness, revealing themselves like old friends eager to be recognized.But channeling her own energy into them proved more difficult.She tried to push, to direct, but the currents slipped away from her efforts like water through cupped hands.
"Don't force it," Tamsin advised, his voice gentle."You're trying to command rather than communicate.Root-singing is a dialogue, not a monologue.Listen first, then respond."
Thalia took a deep breath, releasing the tension that had gathered between her shoulders.She closed her eyes again, focusing on the sensation of the currents beneath her palm.This time, instead of pushing her energy outward, she imagined opening a door within herself, inviting the currents to meet her halfway.
A tingling warmth spread from her center outward, flowing down her arm and into her fingertips.She felt the moment when her energy touched the natural currents—a brief spark of recognition, like the instant when two rivers merge.The grass beneath her hand quivered, and she sensed a faint stirring in its dormant life force.
But the connection wavered, fragile as spider silk.Her concentration slipped, and the tenuous bridge between her energy and the earth's broke.When she opened her eyes, the grass remained largely unchanged, though perhaps a shade greener at the very base.
Frustration welled within her chest."It's not working," she said, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice."I felt something, but it wasn't enough.Wasn't right."
"It was an excellent first attempt," Tamsin countered, his tone firm."Root-singing is not learned in a day, or a week, or even a year.It takes time to develop the proper relationship with the currents, to understand their language fully."
"We don't have time," Thalia said, the words emerging sharper than she'd intended.She glanced toward the fjord, where the dividing line between clear water and black tide stood as a constant reminder of their precarious situation.
Roran stepped closer, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder."Thalia—"
"No," she cut him off, rising to her feet."I can't afford the luxury of gradual progress.None of us can."She faced Tamsin directly, silently pleading for understanding."In my visions, I saw how the original seal was created.Three magical traditions, working in concert.The Founders gave their lives to create it, knowing it was temporary, hoping their descendants would be able to survive the threat when it returned."Her voice dropped, heavy with the weight of responsibility."That's us, Tamsin.We're those descendants.And we're out of time."
Tamsin studied her for a long moment, his weathered face grave."I understand the urgency," he said finally."More than you might think.I have felt the shifting of deep currents for years—the disturbance in patterns that have remained stable for centuries.The earth itself trembles with the approach of what you call the Deep Tide."He sighed, a sound laden with the wisdom of his years."But forcing growth leads to weakness, not strength.Even in crisis, some processes cannot be rushed beyond their nature."
"Then what do you suggest?"Thalia asked, struggling to keep frustration from overwhelming her."How do I learn quickly enough to make a difference?"
Tamsin's expression softened."By understanding that root-singing is already part of you, not something external to be mastered.You've been doing it all your life, in small ways, without naming it."He gestured to the ground between them."Try again.But this time, don't think of it as channeling your energy into the earth.Think of it as reminding your energy that it and the earth's are already one."
Thalia exchanged a glance with Roran, who nodded encouragement.She knelt once more, placing her palm over the withered grass, and closed her eyes.
This time, she didn't reach for the currents or try to direct them.Instead, she allowed herself to sink into the sensation of connection that had always been present when she worked with herbs in her mother's shop or metal in Frostforge's forges.The boundary between her energy and the earth's began to blur, not through force but through recognition.
I am of the earth, she thought.My blood, my bones, my breath—all made of the same elements that flow through soil and stone and seed.
Something shifted within her, a subtle realignment.The currents didn't just reveal themselves to her awareness now; they welcomed her as part of their dance.Energy flowed between her and the grass in a gentle exchange, each strengthening the other.
When she opened her eyes, the grass beneath her hand had straightened.New green tinged the tips of several blades, and a tiny shoot had emerged from the soil, unfurling its first delicate leaf.
It wasn't the dramatic transformation Tamsin had achieved, but it was undeniably change.Progress.A beginning.
"Good," Tamsin said, satisfaction warming his voice."Very good.You see?The power was always within you.You needed only to recognize it."
Thalia stared at the small patch of renewed life beneath her palm, emotions tangling in her chest—pride at this small success, fear that it wouldn't be enough, hope that with practice, she could achieve what was needed.
"It's still so little," she murmured.
"Every journey begins with a single step," Tamsin said, rising to his feet with a grace that belied his age."We will continue tomorrow, and the day after.The path is long, but you have already walked part of it without knowing."
Thalia nodded, accepting his hand as he helped her to her feet.The Crystalline Plateau stretched around them, damaged but not destroyed.Beyond it, Frostforge stood resilient against the winter sky, its walls bearing the scars of recent battle but still standing firm.How much longer could they hold?How many more attacks could they withstand?
