A week passed in relative peace. Although K'tai-tul's mother was a little put out that his spontaneous idea was not shared with the family before he acted upon it, it was not an idea that she scorned. In fact, it had her full approval. Uncle was slightly more reserved, a little more chained to the traditional, being that it was his family line the decision effected, but even he could not deny that it was better than selling their family name away in order to survive. As T'chu-gon neighbour did not come and pressure them during the week, they felt able to breath for the first time in a while. However, nothing was yet set in stone.

K'tai-tul waited nervously in town as the third sun began to rise above the horizon.  Ch'mai-tul was with him, but today, she did not have a lesson to attend.  Today, they were waiting for O'nan-win so that they might guide him to and around the farm and discuss what he did as a tree farmer so that O'nan-win can answer any questions his students might have.  If K'tai-tul successfully took on apprentices, O'nan-win would need to contact other farms to see if they were also willing to take in youths.

When O'nan-win came into town, he was not alone.  His younger brother and little cousin were with him.  K'tai-tul's eyes starred at O'vel-win perhaps a little longer than necessary.  He was trying to figure out what it was about the man that so easily captured his attention.  Perhaps it was the easy-going nature of the man, he was quick to smile and those smiles always revealed his bright, white teeth.  He was talkative, but not to the point of being boring or annoying.  He seemed interested in what K'tai-tul had to say and was encouraging when it came to this idea and calming when K'tai-tul needed it most.  He was probably the first person, outside a family member, that K'tai-tul felt comfortable with since he was a child attending lessons.  Before he found out that he was different to the other students; he would not become an apprentice and look for a good position, he would be a tree farmer like his father.

The two children greeted each other familiarly and little L'nan-win began chatting away as if he need not take breath, while the naturally quiet Ch'mai-tul sat back and listened.  The adult men looked fondly at the children as K'tai-tul lead his draft beast to pull the wagon home.

"I hope you don't mind me joining my brother," O'vel-win said to the farmer a few minutes in.  "I couldn't contain my curiosity.  My family have always worked in careers that stem after the wood is cut for paper, so we are ignorant of the processes required before."

O'nan-win nodded in agreement.  K'tai-tul's speech had been directed at children, so he had spoken of the interesting things and glossed over the more difficult parts.  K'tai-tul chuckled.  "There is not really too much to tell," he said, lightly.  He admittedly found it hard to speak of the daily trials of his work, of certain hardships and the boring periods waiting for established trees to mature, yet having to inspect them.  With other bodies, it would be less difficult, they might even be able to replant in the handful of fallow acres they had not used for over a generation, but the boring bit would not likely go away.  They would have to figure out how to make do during those days by themselves.

So he gave them the run down of the life of the tree, from the seeds that did not always germinate, to carefully watering and feeding seedlings and removing pests, to the planting of saplings and the long walks to check for disease or rot.  And lastly, a successfully grown tree of ten years of age, that would be felled for the paper mill.

"That sounds like a fair amount of work," O'nan-win stated.  "I never realised that it would take so long to grow trees."

"That is just trees for paper," K'tai-tul stated.  "Trees for fruit are usually around a decade old before they will start bearing fruit, but the best are closer to thirty years.  We have a small orchard and care for it well as it supplies food for use and trade.  Other, larger farms often grow trees for furniture and these range from fifty to one hundred years, so you can understand just why farms are run by generations of the same family."  O'nan-win nodded in understanding.  It made things clearer why apprentices were not sought by tree farmers as well and why they generally kept to themselves.  Their trees were priceless and each one represented a portion of their lives.  To rely on outsiders would require a serious shift in thinking.  Perhaps only families as desperate as K'tai-tul's would consider such an action.

The trees along the road changed from natural wildness to a uniformed order, from a mess of shapes and sizes dotted randomly, to nearly identical stretches of same thickness all in neat formation.  The field of trees to their right were skinny and about half a man taller than they would be standing beside them.  K'tai-tul told them that these trees were about four years old.  They would grow about another person in height in the next year then begin to thicken, their height no longer a priority.  He showed them another field to his left and a bit further down the road.  These trees were of the thickness of a small plate and were nine years old.  After the next winter, they would be cut for paper.

"The trees for paper grow quickly," K'tai-tul stated, "but makes their wood unsuitable for any other purpose, except for firewood, once it is dry enough, but it burns fast so other wood is better.  Ah, this field is mine," he pointed to the next one, filled with two year old saplings.  "There is a post just at its corner to declare my boundary with my neighbour," he tried to keep the distaste in his tone out of his voice when speaking of the man who had forced him to this extreme, but O'vel-win noticed it and frowned.  However K'tai-tul did not elaborate.  "Three fields in, there is a path to the right which leads to my house."

O'vel-win's eyes widened when he saw the 'house'.  Obviously, he had seen built homes before, the town was full of properties made of wood and stone, but these were usually not very big.  They usually housed small branches of families who dealt in fixed trading spots or consisted of a workshop and beds for apprentices to sleep in.  This 'house' was a huge wooden creation. From the shades of the wood and the random style of various windows, it was clear that it had not been built all at once and had been added on over time. However now there were parts that were suffering from clear neglect.

Outside of the house stood two women, one still in the blossom of youth, the other more mature but with a beauty that only came with passing years and a man who appeared not much older than K'tai-tul. The farmer reigned the draft beast in and the wagon came to a halt. The little girl jumped down and went to stand by the older woman, who looked down at her with clear affection. Ch'mai-tul tugged the woman's apron and whispered something in her ear as the others got out of the wagon.

"Mother," K'tai-tul greeted the older woman, "Uncle, aunt, this is O'nan-win, a teacher at the school, O'vel-win, his brother and the little one is L'nan-win and happens to be good friends with Ch'mai-tul."

Little L'nan-win ran over and without thought gave L'tai-shu a warm hug, who returned it after a brief moment of startled hesitation. "Thank you for allowing us this opportunity," O'nan-win said politely, greeting the small family with a slight bow.

"No, thank you," L'tai-shu said, before sharing her name. "We are looking forward to working with you. I hope this proves to be a good opportunity for both of us. Come, I will show you the house, while K'tai-tul stables the draft beast and wagon."

The two brothers followed L'tai-shu , while the children ran off somewhere to play. N'ing-jun joined her sister-in-law, while K'sen-tul moved to help his nephew. "Are we absolutely certain about this?" He asked as they brushed down the beast and added a few dried apples to it's grain trough.

"Hmmm," was all the answer he got, but K'tai-tul was clearly smiling, so he decided to hold his objections for another time. They were out of options and he had known it for a while, but he hadn't been able to help but hope a flash of brilliance would come... he just never imagined that this would be his clever nephew's idea. Apprentices.

K'tai-tul wandered into the kitchen to hear O'vel-win and his brother laughing and the sense of comfortableness and familiarity gently covered him like a shrug and a smile came unbidden to his lips. O'vel-win smiled as the farmer came into the room, his warm eyes sparkled as they fell upon him and K'tai-tul felt an odd sensation seem to punch his gut. It was not painful, did not hurt him in anyway, yet it was like a static shock that then spread across him and left the cells of his body oddly aware of the other man's presence.

He blinked a few times and the strange feeling faded a little. "Ah, you are done?" His mother said, drawing away his attention and he agreed with her and accepted the tea that was on offer.

"Would you like to see the greenhouse?" K'tai-tul asked, feeling strangely shy following the strangeness of that moment. The other men nodded and after draining their cups and thanking L'tai-shu, they followed K'tai-tul towards the first of the huge warm buildings. Although he referred to it as the greenhouse, it was actually one of a few, all connected and all very, very warm inside. The brothers began to sweat within moments of entering the building, though K'tai-tul seemed much less effected.

He guided them into each room, showing them the dark, moist room where the seeds were planted and the first nursery, where a thousand sprouts were lining the shelves. The second nursery showed the ripe, fresh saplings that were around three months and the third where they were nine to twelve months. K'tai-tul said that these last saplings would replace the trees cut in the spring, the next group were replacements, in case some of the first batch did not take root. And then the sprouts would follow or be grown until the year following that.

He was animated as he spoke of the feed that they created themselves, their annoyance over the recent invasion of slugs and the sense of relief when a field was cut clean and the wood sold, insuring their livelihood continued for another year. O'vel-win watched him with attentative eyes, taking in every mannerism and every gesture, which he would later replay within his mind while he lay in his bed within his own home. And it would be this moment that a completely wild thought would occur to him.

O'vel-win liked K'tai-tul.