Claribel flicked the reins gently, guiding Keith and Sarah down the winding dirt road toward Village One. The morning sun glowed warm, and the wagon creaked softly beneath the weight of Roland's gifts—pots of rich farm soil, carrots and potatoes ready for planting, and carefully rolled scrolls explaining how to nurture crops and learn Farmer's Rain.
The farm slowly disappeared behind them, though Roland still stood at the fence waving, a small smile lingering on his lips.
Sarah glanced back until he was out of sight… then immediately turned her head toward Claribel with a sly grin.
"So," she sang, "how do you feel about the farmer?"
Claribel nearly dropped the reins. "Wh–! Sarah!"
Keith smirked from her other side. "Yes, tell us. It's very obvious you two like each other."
"We—what—no!" Claribel sputtered. "We just met! It's far too early to even think about such things!"
"That's not a no," Sarah whispered loudly.
"It's absolutely not a no," Keith agreed.
Claribel's face glowed pink. She stared straight ahead, desperately pretending to be very focused on the dirt road.
After a long moment, she exhaled softly. "…He's kind," she admitted. "Stronger than he realizes. And gentle. And he cares about everyone around him—animals, trees, people… even the land."
Sarah's grin widened smugly.
Claribel fiddled with the reins, voice softening. "He's… warm. Easy to talk to. And being around him feels… peaceful." She swallowed. "But I don't know him yet. Not truly. I want to take my time."
Keith shook his head with dramatic disappointment. "Humans…"
Sarah clicked her tongue. "Elves too. So slow."
Keith turned his head toward Claribel. "Do you know how we do it? Donkeys meet. They like each other. They nuzzle. They share snacks. Boom—married."
Sarah nodded proudly. "Simple. Efficient. Romantic."
Claribel stared. "…That's it?"
"Yes," Sarah said. "No complicated rituals. No 'is it too soon?' No months of guessing emotions. You humans make everything so dramatic."
Keith lifted his chin. "And don't even get me started on elves. They spend decades deciding if they like someone."
Claribel blinked. "…Well, that's not entirely wrong."
Sarah huffed. "Then dwarves. They need family approval, clan approval, beard approval—"
"Beard approval?" Claribel echoed weakly.
"Oh yes," Keith said seriously. "If your beard isn't magnificent enough, no marriage."
Claribel laughed despite herself, covering her face with one hand. "You two…"
Sarah wiggled her ears. "All I'm saying is this: you like him. He likes you. Don't overthink it."
Claribel's blush deepened. "He has never said he likes me."
Keith snorted. "He doesn't need to. We saw the way he looked at you."
"Soft eyes," Sarah whispered dramatically. "Very soft eyes."
The wagon creaked along the quiet road while Claribel hid her burning cheeks behind her hair.
"…It's too early," she murmured again, more to herself than to them.
But the tiny smile she wore said she didn't entirely hate the thought.
Keith and Sarah exchanged a knowing look—one that said they were absolutely going to meddle more later.
Village One came into view beyond the last bend in the dusty road—small wooden homes, tidy fields, and the faint scent of bread drifting from a communal oven. A few adults paused in their work as Claribel approached, recognizing the familiar wagon.
But before any of them could call out, the children saw her.
"MISS CLARIBEL!"
"It's the donkey lady!"
"KEITH! SARAH!"
"They came back!"
A whole wave of children—maybe a dozen—burst from behind the houses and sprinted toward the wagon in a stampede of excited shrieks.
Keith and Sarah's ears perked.
"Oh no," Sarah whispered dramatically. "They've found us."
Keith grinned. "I love these gremlins."
The children surrounded the wagon instantly.
Several reached up reverently, petting Keith's newly sleek fur.
"He's so shiny!"
"He feels like clouds!"
"He smells like flowers!"
Keith preened proudly.
Sarah received just as much affection—tiny hands rubbing behind her ears, patting her flanks, and hugging her around the neck.
"You're prettier than last time!"
"Miss Sarah, your fur sparkles!"
"Can you give us a ride? Pleeeeeease?"
Sarah lowered her head in mock resignation. "Well… if you insist."
Keith snorted. "Show-off."
But he kneeled too—allowing two kids to climb onto his back while another clung to his fluffy tail.
Soon the wagon yard erupted in laughter and delighted squeals as the Tier 3 donkeys walked slow, careful circles, letting the children ride, pat, and love on them. Both donkeys' tails flicked with pure joy, soaking up every bit of affection.
Claribel's heart warmed—but she still needed to speak with the adults.
The village chief—a middle-aged man with a worn beard and wise eyes—approached the wagon. He bowed slightly.
"Lady Claribel. We're grateful to see you again. The children wouldn't stop talking about you after your last visit."
Claribel smiled. "I'm glad. And I've come with gifts."
She hopped down from the wagon and lifted the cloth covering Roland's prepared supplies.
"These," she said, lifting a pot filled with rich, dark soil, "are pots of Roland's best farm dirt, already planted with starter carrots and potatoes. They're infused with his magic and blessed by the covenant's mana rain."
The chief's eyes widened. "Blessed vegetables? Truly?"
Claribel nodded. "And that's not all."
She handed him a tightly rolled scroll tied with green twine. "Roland wrote detailed instructions—how to plant, how to care for them, and how to cultivate stronger harvests."
She handed him a second scroll. "And this one teaches your village how to learn the Farmer's Rain spell. A simple version, safe and practical. Anyone with moderate mana sense can learn it."
Around them, the adults murmured in awe.
One woman placed a hand over her mouth. "A spell… to call rain?"
"Only a small amount," Claribel clarified. "But enough to nurture crops when the weather is unkind."
The chief swallowed hard, overwhelmed. "Your friend… he shares such precious things with no price?"
Claribel smiled gently. "Roland doesn't believe in hoarding blessings. He believes soil grows best when shared."
Behind them, the children cheered again as Keith and Sarah pranced slowly with three kids hanging from each side.
Sarah called out proudly, "We're Tier 3 now!"
Keith added, "And still humble!"
The whole village laughed.
Claribel offered a small bow. "For now, I ask only that you try these gifts sincerely. Roland wants your village to grow strong."
The chief wiped a tear from his eye. "We'll honor this kindness."
Claribel glanced back at the children riding the donkeys, the joy filling the village, and she knew—Roland's gifts were already planting more than just crops.
They were planting hope.