June, Sea Circle Calendar 1520. Alabasta's rainy season arrived on schedule.
This was not rain Boer had evaporated from the sea and carried over with his magnetic field. It was real rain, rain that belonged to this land itself.
The monsoon winds crossed the edge of the Red Line, drawn inland by moisture transpiring from the new vegetation. Rain clouds formed over the upper reaches of the Sandora River, then spread northwest.
Rain fell on the saxaul forests, on the newly sprouted branches of desert poplars, on the ponds formed at the outlets of underground channels, and on the upturned faces of farmers who had been on the brink of starvation two years ago.
A farmer caught the rain in his palm and stared for a long time at that little pool of clear liquid.
Then he pressed his palm to his forehead, as though undergoing a baptism that had come far too late.
Boer stood on the Royal Palace terrace, watching the rain.
He did not use his powers to interfere with the clouds. He simply watched, like someone watching a child he had taught for so long take their first independent step.
"Lord Boer." Cobra's voice came from behind him.
Boer nodded.
"Today's rain will last until dusk. Tell the farmers to cover their freshly tilled fields with straw. Rain this heavy will wash away the topsoil."
"The word has already gone out." Cobra came to Boer's side and rested both hands on the terrace's stone railing.
He looked through the curtain of rain toward what had once been desert. A gray-green saxaul forest stood there now, its crowns swaying gently in the rain. "This land is breathing on its own."
Integrating the rebels proved even easier than expected.
Koza entered the Royal Palace's council chamber with his