When this little Seed is a tall green Tree*

Nuada entered the lab the day after returning from Venice. It was empty for once and he walked over to the plant boxes and lights Bashir had set up. He had brought the seeds of the raspberries and strawberry with him and set the small bowls he'd separated them into beside one of the boxes.

The makeshift garden seemed to have been a success. Some sprouts were peeking through the soil, young and the fresh to the world. Nuada reached in and gently touched one. Where he had not been able to sense a thing from the soil, he could sense the life of the plant, feel the two hair thin roots protruding from the halved seed beneath.

Being able to sense the plant was a relief. He couldn't feel them from the doorway, and he had to be almost touching the greenery, but there was still a connection. He was still a Son of the Earth.

He decided to experiment, choosing the four seedlings closest to him, tomato. Closing his eyes, Nuada spread his fingers and touched the soil around the plants. He called to the seedlings, asking them to grow for him, weaving the spiderweb thin tendrils of magic he could call. It took total concentration and he began to feel his personal magic drain from him as the seedlings uncurled slowly and stretched upwards as tiny leaf buds started to sprout.

But it was taking much too much effort and he felt his energy pour out, making his cease and grip the table as a wave of dizziness and weakness crashed into him.

He wanted to hit something. He should be able to coax a seedling into full bloom within minutes. These four had only advanced perhaps three or four days worth of growth and it took all the magic he could access.

So engrossed had he been in his own experiment he never even heard someone else enter the room. And knowing Nuada's constant awareness, that said much.

(*from: A Seed by William Allingham)