Backdated to May 30
Dering was bustling with life, but no matter how many bugs fluttered into the grove, or how wildly the roseberries grew, Julian's attention remained fixed on Cyril.
Things had been a little strange since the arrival of the fluffbugs, but Cyril had been present since then--mostly.
Sometimes he would disappear for a few minutes at a time, and that wasn't inherently strange--except when he'd do it midsentence, and then he'd reappear a moment later, hanging off his last word and carrying on as if nothing had happened.
That was the strangest part of it--that he never seemed to know when, or where, or for how long he'd gone. Julian asked, but Cyril's response was the same each time, and Julian couldn't stand the idea of agitating him. Cyril would look at him as if he'd grown a second head, and defaulted to suggesting that Julian was just working too hard. Both times Julian had asked, Cyril told him to sleep more, certain that the anomalies existed only in Julian's head.
Maybe they did. Julian never argued it.
He probably did need to sleep more, but things had been so busy the last few weeks. He couldn't make the time. Being in bed didn't guarantee rest, anyway. Being busy meant he was exhausted, but being him meant--
Well, it meant that he had to keep pushing on, anyway.
He'd graduated high school just last week, and then come to Dering on Sunday to work. Before that, he'd been juggling all his finals, and before that he'd been doing all the last-minute work he'd needed to ensure he graduated on time.
And, he had. Not with flying colors, but well enough that he was still going to DCU in the fall.
Aside from school, he'd been working on integrating into Zac's family, who he'd seen several times since he first met them two weeks ago.
He still had all the usual tasks--chores, patrol, appointments. Everything moved so quickly, and he was just trying to stay afloat.
Julian didn't know what the future held, so he had worried about that a lot, too. Zac caught him at a low point, when he was so stressed he'd given himself a day-long stomachache, and suggested Julian come out with him to help with a few jobs, to which Julian had instinctively agreed despite doubting his usefulness.
His stomach stopped hurting. It was something to look forward to.
And, worrying was exhausting.
So maybe Cyril was onto something. But Julian worried anyway, and while he took his weekly notes to chronicle Dering's progress, he also logged every time something seemed off with Cyril.
Things had been worse the last trip here, but not so bad this time.
Maybe Julian was just oversensitive to it. Maybe it had always happened and he'd just missed it before.
Maybe Cyril was right and he just needed to sleep more.
He didn't know. Trying to think about it too much only hurt his head and upset his stomach more.
So, instead of thinking of all the maybes, he focused on the one thing he did know, indisputably:
The roseberries were flourishing.
Julian had repotted them only two weeks ago, and he was already having to move them.
The new pots were supposed to last a few weeks--months, more likely--but the plants had tripled in size from one week to the next. One had split the pot open completely, and the other two looked like they weren't close behind.
It had taken a great deal of effort to move them, and even more to replant them. Cyril helped him find a place--between the clearing and the river, and a little off the path.
Julian had already done a bit of work there weeks ago in hopes of accessing the nearby shrine, but the dense shrubbery had been too much to contend with. In the end, it wasn't wasted labor; it made the process of transporting the heavy plants a little more bearable. He needed all the help he could get; it took him until sunset, and by then his muscles all ached terribly.
Two of the roseberry vines had sprouted enormously, and replanting them required laying out the vines, spread across the ground so they had space to settle and grow. The third, always a bit less healthy than the others, needed more light, and a space of its own where it didn't have to compete with the others. Cyril had hovered over Julian's shoulder to tell him this, and had also been the one to suggest Julian drape its great vines around one of the thick-trunked, multi-branched trees in the area.
Naturally, Julian obliged, but he didn't have much experience climbing trees, so it was more work. He fell twice, once hard enough to wind himself, but in the end he'd decided the result was worth it.
It might have taken all day, but under the glow of the setting sun, the roseberries had been totally integrated. It looked like they'd been there all along.
The butterflies had come to investigate before he was even done, and it seemed like they planned to stay after he left.
Julian had worried that they, or other insects, might start eating the roseberries, but Cyril assured--between one flicker and the next--that they'd be fine.
They weren't yet ripe, but close.
No longer green, they were a warm white, some even a pale pink, and had a distinctly floral fragrance.
Cyril thought weeks at most, and Julian remained hopeful, especially after seeing how the vines had exploded in length and volume already.
It was the most growth he'd ever seen on his wonder.
Julian couldn't be certain, but he hoped--really hoped--it meant that he was on the right track.
Cyril, and Dering, and the Code, and everyone had been patient enough so far.
He really needed to make this work.
He really needed a win.
