Chapter 4: Seeds of Change
The parched earth cracked beneath Alden's boots as he traversed the farmlands surrounding the Harroway estate. He had spent the better part of a week assessing the state of the land, speaking with local farmers, and meticulously examining the soil. The drought had indeed ravaged the area—crops had withered, and those few that remained were stunted and frail, their roots shallow and unable to reach the dry ground beneath. As he crouched to sift the brittle soil through his fingers, Alden couldn't help but recall the rich, fertile fields of his previous world, where modern techniques had long transformed farming into a precise science.
Here, however, it was rudimentary. Farmers relied on tradition and superstition, planting the same crops in the same manner season after season, hoping for the return of rain and divine favour. But Alden knew better. This wasn't a matter of divine will; it was a scientific issue. And science had solutions.
The villagers had been sceptical when he first approached them. The Harroway name no longer carried much weight, and Alden was the youngest son—barely seen, barely heard. But when he began inquiring about their farming practices, how they tilled the soil, what crops they planted, and how they stored water, curiosity was kindled. He could see it in their eyes—a mixture of doubt and hope, a longing for anything that could break the cycle of failure they had endured for years.
This morning, a group of farmers had gathered around Alden at the edge of a small, failing field. The sun beat down relentlessly, its oppressive heat making the barren land seem even more desolate. Alden stood before them, his posture confident yet humble. He knew he couldn't come across as too authoritative—these were proud people, and their methods had been handed down through generations. He had to tread carefully.
"Thank you all for coming," Alden began, his voice steady but sincere. "I know these times are tough. The drought has been unrelenting, and the land has suffered. But I believe there are ways we can make the most of what we have. There are techniques from other lands—other worlds even—that we might use to improve our yields, even under these harsh conditions."
The farmers exchanged glances. Most of them were older men and women, their faces weathered by years of hard labour and disappointment. A few younger faces were among them, more open to change, though their scepticism was evident.
One of the older men, a burly farmer with a grizzled beard named Garret, crossed his arms and spoke up. "We've tried everything we know, lad. What makes you think anything you suggest will be different?"
Alden met Garret's gaze unflinchingly. "Because I'm not relying on what's been tried before. I'm proposing new methods—methods that can help retain water in the soil and make the most of the limited moisture we have. For instance," he gestured to the field before them, "what if we planted in rows that followed the natural slope of the land? It would help capture and retain any rainfall that does come, rather than letting it run off."
A murmur went through the crowd. Farming on slopes wasn't entirely foreign to them, but using the natural landscape to improve water retention was a new idea. One of the younger men, a tall farmer named Roderick, stepped forward, curiosity piqued. "Go on," he said, his tone cautious but open.
Alden nodded, encouraged by the interest. "There's more. We can use mulch—anything organic, like straw or even dead leaves—to cover the soil. This will help keep the ground cooler, prevent evaporation, and retain moisture longer."
Garret scowled. "Mulch, eh? That's for gardens, not fields."
"It can be used for both," Alden countered. "You don't have to cover the entire field, just around the base of each plant. It'll conserve the little water we have."
There was silence as the farmers considered his words. Alden knew this would be a hard sell. Change didn't come easily, especially in a world where tradition and survival were so closely intertwined. But he wasn't finished yet.
"I also want to introduce crop rotation," Alden continued, "and even some mixed planting. By growing different crops together, we can improve the soil's health and reduce the risk of pests. For instance, planting beans alongside corn—the beans add nitrogen to the soil, which helps the corn grow."
"Magic beans now, is it?" Garret said with a snort, drawing a few chuckles from the group.
Alden smiled, refusing to be rattled. "No magic. Just biology. Different plants use the soil in different ways. By rotating and mixing them, we can prevent the soil from being depleted of the same nutrients repeatedly."
More murmurs spread through the group. Some of the older farmers still looked sceptical, but the younger ones, like Roderick, seemed intrigued. Alden could see their minds working, weighing the possibilities. The older generation might resist, but the younger generation was eager for change.
"What about water?" a voice called from the back. It was a woman this time, her face lined but her eyes sharp with determination. "You can't farm without water."
Alden turned to face her, meeting her gaze. "You're right. Water is the biggest challenge. But we can build simple irrigation systems—ditches and trenches to direct the little rain we do get straight to the crops. And we can collect rainwater when it does fall. If we dig ponds or reservoirs, we can store water for the drier weeks."
"Sounds like a lot of work," Garret muttered, though his tone had softened somewhat.
"It is," Alden agreed. "But it's work that could mean the difference between a good harvest and none at all. If we don't change anything, we know the outcome. If we try something new, we might just survive this drought."
For a long moment, there was silence. The farmers exchanged glances, weighing their options. Alden could see the doubt in their eyes, but he could also see a glimmer of hope. They were desperate for something to work, and although they weren't entirely convinced of him or his methods, they were willing to try.
Finally, Roderick spoke up again. "We'll give it a try. If you're right, we'll see results soon enough."
Garret grunted, nodding begrudgingly. "Aye, we've nothin' to lose at this point."
Alden exhaled slowly, relief washing over him. It wasn't a complete victory, but it was a start. He had planted the seeds of change, and now it was time to see if they would take root.
---
The next few days were a whirlwind of activity. Alden worked alongside the farmers, helping to dig irrigation trenches and spread mulch around the roots of the hardiest crops. They replanted rows to follow the natural contours of the land and began rotating what little they had left, giving the soil a chance to recover. Alden even managed to convince a few of the more adventurous farmers to try a new method of rainwater harvesting, building simple catchment systems from wood and stone to gather every precious drop.
There were still sceptics, of course. Garret, though gruff and resistant to change, watched with a wary eye, assisting when asked but withholding judgement. Alden didn't mind. He knew that real change took time, and trust had to be earned.
As the days passed, small but visible improvements began to appear. The soil, once dry and cracked, now retained moisture longer under the protective mulch. The new irrigation trenches channelled the little rain that fell straight to the plants, reducing waste. It wasn't a miracle, but it was progress.
By the end of the week, as Alden stood at the edge of one of the fields, watching the farmers work with cautious optimism, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction. This was the first real step he had taken towards making a difference in this world—a tangible improvement that might just save these people from starvation.
But as he looked out over the fields, his mind drifted back to the kingdom at large. This small victory was just the beginning. The drought still gripped the land, and the political and social forces at play were far greater than a few farmers' fields. He had done what he could here, but the true challenge lay beyond these borders.
For now, though, he would savour the moment. The seeds of change had been planted.
And Alden intended to see them grow.
Chapter 5: The Seeds of Survival
The sun blazed mercilessly, hanging in the sky like a molten coin, casting its relentless heat over the cracked fields. Alden wiped the sweat from his brow as he knelt down, inspecting a stunted stalk of grain. Its leaves were brittle and pale yellow—yet this particular plant had survived longer than most. It had weathered the drought better than its neighbours. Alden's gaze sharpened as he made a decision. This plant would be the first.
He had been here for weeks, carefully observing the crops that had fared best under the harsh conditions. While some farmers had adopted the new techniques he'd introduced, it was evident that more drastic measures were needed. The drought showed no sign of easing, and even with improved water management, the current crops simply weren't resilient enough. They were fragile, relying too heavily on the rainfall that did not come. But Alden knew there was another way.
Selective breeding.
In his previous life as a geneticist, Alden had worked with crops at a molecular level, manipulating their DNA to enhance resistance to disease and increase their nutrient content. He didn't have the tools for that kind of precision here—no microscopes, no gene-editing technology—but the principles remained the same. Nature, if guided carefully, would provide the answers.
He ran his fingers along the stalk, feeling its texture, noting the slight difference in strength compared to the others. This plant had the potential to pass on its traits—its drought resilience—if carefully bred with other strong candidates. In time, he could cultivate an entire field of crops capable of thriving in these conditions.
He rose slowly, dusting the dirt from his knees, and carefully snipped the seed head from the stalk with a small knife. He placed the seeds into a cloth pouch at his waist, tying it shut with care. These seeds were precious. They represented the future, provided his plan succeeded.
---
Over the next few days, Alden combed the fields, collecting seed heads from the hardiest plants he could find. It was a painstaking process, but one that filled him with a peculiar sense of purpose. For every ten plants that had withered under the oppressive heat, there was always one that stood a little taller, a little stronger. These survivors, as he had come to call them, were the key to his project.
In the evenings, he would retreat to the small chamber that served as both his quarters and his makeshift laboratory. By the flickering light of a single candle, he meticulously sorted the seeds. He laid them out on a worn wooden table, inspecting each one for signs of strength or weakness. The larger, more robust seeds were set aside, while the smaller, less promising ones were discarded. He felt a quiet satisfaction as he worked. This was something he understood, something that transcended both worlds. The methods of modern science could still be applied here, even without the tools he once had.
As the moon climbed higher in the night sky, Alden sketched diagrams on scraps of parchment, mapping out his plan. Selective breeding was a slow process—it could take seasons, perhaps years, to fully cultivate a new variety of crop. But Alden was patient. He knew that each generation of plants would carry the traits of its parents. If he was diligent, if he continued to select the strongest plants for reproduction, eventually the entire crop would be drought-resistant.
His mind raced through the possibilities. If he could create a strain of grain that thrived in dry conditions, it wouldn't just save the Harroway lands—it could reshape the entire kingdom's agriculture. If the drought persisted, other regions would fall into famine, while his family's lands could become a centre of food production. The political and economic power that would bring was immense. His family's influence would grow, and the Harroways would no longer be seen as weak, magicless nobles.
But that was still a long way off. For now, his focus was on the seeds.
---
A few days later, Alden gathered a small group of farmers from the village. He stood before them with a sack of seeds at his feet, his voice calm but authoritative.
"I've been collecting these seeds from the hardiest crops in the fields," he explained. "These plants have survived the drought better than others. What I'm proposing is a method called selective breeding. By planting only the seeds from the strongest plants, over time we can cultivate crops that are naturally more resistant to these conditions."
The farmers exchanged uneasy glances. Alden could sense their scepticism—it was a radical idea for them. They were accustomed to planting whatever seeds were available, year after year, without considering the long-term implications. The notion of deliberately selecting seeds from only certain plants felt... unnatural to some of them.
Garret, the older farmer who had been one of Alden's staunchest critics, frowned. "So, you're saying we can just pick and choose which plants are worth keeping? How's that any different from what we've been doing all these years?"
"It's more focused," Alden replied. "You've always chosen which seeds to keep, but what I'm suggesting is being more deliberate. It's not just about saving seeds from any crop that produces. It's about looking for specific traits—like drought resistance—and ensuring those are passed on."
"And you think that'll work?" Garret asked, his tone more curious than combative this time.
Alden nodded. "I do. It's not a quick fix. It'll take time—seasons, even. But if we start now, we can see improvement by the next harvest. It's about playing the long game, investing in future yields."
The younger farmer, Roderick, who had been more receptive to Alden's suggestions, stepped forward. "I'm willing to give it a go. If we keep doing what we've always done, we'll keep getting what we've always got—nothing. At this point, anything's worth a shot."
Alden smiled at Roderick's words, grateful for the support. He bent down, opening the sack at his feet, and pulled out a handful of the carefully selected seeds. "These are the ones I've gathered. I'll show you how to plant them—rows spaced further apart to conserve water, with mulch around the base of each plant to retain moisture. And next season, when we harvest, we'll do the same—only keeping seeds from the strongest plants."
There were still murmurs of doubt among the farmers, but the tide was slowly turning. Alden could see it in their eyes—they wanted to believe him, to trust that there was a way out of the endless cycle of drought and failure. And for the first time in a long time, there was a glimmer of hope.
---
The planting began the following morning. Alden worked alongside the farmers, his hands dirty with soil as they carefully placed the seeds into the ground. The air was still dry, and the sky showed no sign of rain, but Alden's mind was focused on the future. He could envision it now—a field of golden grain, resilient and strong, thriving even under the harshest conditions.
As the last seed was planted, Alden stood and surveyed the field. The process was slow, but with every generation, the crops would grow stronger. Nature, when guided by knowledge and intent, would yield results. This was the beginning of something new, something better.
And with that thought, Alden walked away from the fields, already planning the next step in his journey to reshape this world.
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