There was a loud bang as the king dropped the large rock he had been examining. “D-D-Dragon fire!” The King stuttered, his voice betraying the fear in his voice.

“Pretty sure, this was the wizard’s heart tree, you only get one. When you die, it dies. When it dies, you die.” Garion explained. More to talk it through to himself than to be reassuring to the giant king. “You can see here how this tree was burned from the inside out, also can you smell that?” Garion asked.

At this the king blew his nose into his wrist and produced a sound like an elephants roar. He then breathed a deep breathe in through his nostrils. “I can only smell rotten eggs. Why is this?” The king asked the wizard.

“Sulphur,” replied Garion “its how dragon fire smells.”

The king nodded as if the explanation had cleared some of the initial fear from his mind. “May I ask you a question wizard?” King Robert asked. After a nod he continued. “Do all Wizards have one of these trees? Or is it just Earth Wizards? Do you have a tree somewhere?” Garion held up a hand to stem the flow of questions.

“There are many different schools of magic, most have something akin to one of these, not all of them are trees though, the mages of the deserts of Ericoa, for example, have been known to bind their hearts to beasts rather than trees, and I’m sure there are many other forms of the practice.” Garion informed the king. It was after all his duty to answer the kings questions when it came to magic, as well as he could at least. “In answer to the question about my own Heart Tree; my school of magic, The Green, do indeed use trees for such a purpose although I am yet to need to complete such a ritual”

As Garion finished his explanation, he could feel the acorn on its cord around his neck. Its comforting weight reassuring his decision not to plant it yet.

Seemingly tracking Garion’s trail of thought the King asked his next question “Why don’t you have a tree?” he asked.

It took Garion a moment to formulate the appropriate response but “I am yet to plant mine, I guess” seemed to be the best he could muster.

This turned out to be enough for the King however, who seemed to have finished with his questions, his mind clearly already on other things. “I better be getting back to the feasting hall.” stated the King, “I will leave you to your library.” and with that he walked briskly from the room, entered the tight spiral staircase and with the haste of a man who had seen a ghost, descended out of Garion’s sight.

Garion exhaled, his stomach growled in response. This made the decision as to what to start with easy, he needed food. He had to get work. He took this moment alone to take in his surroundings, a large circular chamber, lit by windows almost as tall as the walls that housed them, casting all of their light towards the centre, a large circle of earth taking up nearly a quarter of the room. And the centre piece to this room, the rotting tree, probably once so beautiful, now sitting there sad and rotten. Garion moved to the base of the tree. He reached within to his well of magical power. He reached forth and placed one hand on the tree roots, concentrating on the spell he was about to cast. Building it in his minds eye before, with a word, he brought it forth.

“Pédon.” he muttered softly to the roots of the tree. From the point his had touched the wood, the tree began to instantly compost. He looked up as the last of the wood turned to dark soil before cascading to the ground. With the tree-corpse gone Garion was able to properly see the bed of earth. It was circular, maybe 10 feet in size. He would have to find a better place to grow plants in the future, perhaps outside, but it would make do for now. He reached inside his cloak, bringing forth a worn leather pouch and reaching inside, brought out a singular dark black seed no bigger than a bluebell.

He gently lowered the seed into the soil and buried it slightly before standing back. He muttered “Hyades.” and the soil grew moist, as if it had just rained. “Karpos.” Instantly a small green shoot sprung forth from the soil, growing to the height of Garion’s knee before a large blue flower sprung into life and wept away just as quickly, leaving in its place a large blue fruit that began to swell. Garion reached forwards and plucked the fruit from the tree. He bit into it and felt the juices wash across his tongue. It was a sweet taste, like cinnamon and freshly cut grass. Garion performed the spell a few more times, having the next fruit grown before he finished the last. Garion munched down his fill of fruit and then some, he hadn’t eaten in a while and who knows when he’d get to next.

He glanced out of the window, wiping fruit from his chin. It was dusk. He yawned. It had only now occurred to him that he had nowhere to sleep. After some searching he found a hammock tucked away on a low shelf, hooks had already been fastened to the bare stone walls by the previous owner. As Garion strung up the hammock, climbed in, pulled his cloak over him and, while making a note to check on his horse in the morning, with a word he drifted off to sleep.