Ren was starting to think this world had a serious problem with over-the-top reactions. First, Old Man Hemlock fainted and started screaming about demons. Now this mysterious cat-eared woman was kneeling in the dirt and calling him 'Lord' just because he gave her a piece of fruit.
"Really, it's okay, you can stand up," he urged, feeling a bit awkward. "I'm just a farmer."
Lyra lifted her head, her luminous emerald eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made him feel like he was being X-rayed. The awe in them hadn't faded; it had solidified into something else, something deeper. Resolve.
She rose to her feet with a fluid grace that was mesmerizing to watch, but she didn't step back. "You are no mere farmer," she said, her voice now steady and clear, devoid of its earlier rasp. "What you grow here… what you are… is beyond that title."
Ren just sighed. "Look, my name is Ren. Can we just stick with that? The whole 'Lord' thing is a bit much." He gestured around at his humble, weed-strewn plot and the half-finished shack. "Does this look like a lord's estate to you?"
Lyra's gaze followed his, but she didn't see what he saw. She didn't see neglect and poverty. She saw the heart of a burgeoning miracle. She saw the ridiculously vibrant tomato plants, the unnaturally dark and fertile soil he'd tilled in minutes, the crater where a massive stump used to be, and the still-fresh bloodstain on the grass where a monster had died an impossible death.
"A lord's power is not always measured in stone and silk," she said softly, almost to herself. She took another bite of the tomato, savoring the rush of energy, the clarity it brought to her thoughts. The fruit had not only healed her body but had sharpened her mind, allowing her to see the situation with a terrifying new perspective. The world was a chessboard of grasping, ambitious powers, and this farm... this farm was the queen, king, and board all in one, and its master didn't even know he was playing the game.
"Borin! Gareth! You two done over there?" Ren called out, eager to change the subject.
The two men, who had been covertly watching the strange interaction, startled. "Aye, Ren! Just about," Borin called back, his voice strained. They had managed to carve up the most accessible parts of the bear, their bags now heavy with the strange, energizing meat. "We're leaving the rest. Can't carry it all."
"Bring some of that over here when you're done!" Ren said cheerfully. "And you should try one of these tomatoes! They're amazing!"
Borin and Gareth exchanged a look. It was a mixture of fear and an undeniable, greedy curiosity. The smell of the tomatoes was maddening, and they had felt the subtle power thrumming in the bear meat. Combining the two… what would happen?
As the two farmers cautiously approached, Lyra melted back a few steps, her predatory aura replaced by that of a silent guardian. She watched them, her eyes missing nothing, her posture relaxed but ready. She had already appointed herself as this oblivious demigod's first line of defense, whether he knew it or not.
"Here, try one," Ren said, plucking two more ripe tomatoes from the vine and tossing them to the men.
Borin caught his clumsily, fumbling the glowing orb as if it were a hot coal. Gareth was a bit more nimble. They both stared at the fruit in their hands, their faces a battleground of temptation and terror. They had seen what an apple from Ren's hand had done.
"It's safe, I promise," Ren laughed, seeing their hesitation. "I ate one myself. See? Still here."
That seemed to be enough. Borin, a man who believed in facing his fears head-on, took a deep breath and bit into the tomato. Gareth, not wanting to be shown up, followed suit.
Their reactions were immediate and profound, though less explosive than Lyra's. Borin's eyes shot open wide, a grunt of pure pleasure escaping his lips. He felt the aches in his back and shoulders, a constant companion for twenty years of hard labor, simply vanish. A wave of warmth and vigor washed through him, making him feel ten years younger. Gareth dropped his knife, his jaw slack, as he felt a similar surge of vitality clear his head and fill his limbs with a strength he hadn't known since his youth.
"Ancestors' mercy…" Borin breathed, staring at the half-eaten tomato as if it were a holy relic. "Ren… what is this?"
"It's a 'Sun's Fury' tomato," Ren replied patiently, as if explaining it for the hundredth time. "It's a good variety, isn't it?"
Before Borin could reply, Lyra stepped forward again, her movement silent. She had finished her own tomato and had come to a decision. She addressed Ren, her tone formal but resolute.
"Ren," she began, pointedly using his preferred name. "I have a request."
"A request? We just met," Ren said, surprised.
"I wish to remain here," she stated, her emerald eyes unwavering. "On your land. I will guard it. I will guard you. I will handle pests, intruders, and anyone who might seek to disturb your… work."
Ren was taken aback. "Guard me? Why would I need a guard? The worst pests I've seen so far are a few stubborn weeds and that one noisy bear."
Lyra's lips thinned into a grim line. "That 'noisy bear' was a Grootslang, a monster that wiped out an entire royal hunting party last season. The 'weeds' you erased would have crippled a man who touched them. The 'stump' you moved would have taken a siege engine to dislodge. You do not see the dangers of this world because, to you, they are not dangerous. But others will come. They will be drawn by the power you wield and the treasures you grow. They will not be as polite as I am."
Ren blinked, processing her words. Grootslang? Royal hunting party? He was beginning to realize that his baseline for 'normal' was catastrophically miscalibrated for this new world.
"But… I don't have anything to pay you with," he said, falling back on a practical objection. "The shack barely has room for me, and all I have are these vegetables."
"The fruit you have already given me is payment enough for a lifetime of service for a warrior of lesser standing," Lyra said, her voice dropping, thick with sincerity. "To be allowed to remain in the presence of this vitality… to partake in this bounty… is a privilege, not a job. I will build my own shelter. I will hunt my own food, unless you offer it. I ask for nothing but your permission to stay and serve."
She was offering him her life, her loyalty, her formidable skills, all for the price of room and board that she would provide herself. To her, it was the deal of a lifetime. To Ren, it sounded like he was taking advantage of a very strange, very intense person.
He looked at her earnest, fierce face. He looked at Borin and Gareth, who were staring at Lyra with wide, fearful eyes, clearly recognizing her as something far beyond a simple hunter. And he looked at his plot of land. It was a lot to take in. Maybe… maybe she was right. Maybe having someone around who understood this world's dangers wasn't such a bad idea. And she seemed to genuinely want to be here.
He sighed, a feeling of resignation washing over him. His dream of a simple, quiet farming life was getting more complicated by the minute.
"Alright," he said slowly. "You can stay. Under one condition."
Lyra's ears perked up, her expression instantly attentive. "Name it."
Ren pointed a thumb back at his shack. "The roof has a leak, and the west wall looks like it's about to fall over. I'm a farmer, not a carpenter. If you're going to be my 'guard,' your first duty is to help me fix my house. It's embarrassing."
A flicker of disbelief, followed by a rush of profound respect, crossed Lyra's face. He could have asked for anything—a dangerous quest, a vow of fealty sworn in blood, a treasure from her guild. Instead, his first 'command' was a simple, practical request for help with home repairs. He wasn't a tyrant testing his new subordinate. He was a man who needed his roof fixed.
A genuine, breathtaking smile graced Lyra's lips for the first time. It transformed her sharp, predatory features into something truly beautiful.
"It will be my honor, Ren," she said. And in her heart, she amended the title she dared not speak aloud. My honor, my Lord.