Chapter 57 – The First Step Forward

Morning came clear and sharp, the kind that left no room for rest. Air smelled of sawdust, smoke, and damp earth.

The scent of a village that had survived, and now had to thrive. Villagers gathered near the tower, as they did every morning, work vouchers in hand.

Ren leaned against the open tower entrance, Tobren at his side, papers clutched tight. The breeze tugged at Ren's shirt. Sun-bleached, torn at the sleeve, but he didn't care.

He pulled a chair from inside, setting it down in front of them.

"Everyone, I need a minute."

The murmurs quieted. Faces turned. Ren let the silence stretch just long enough.

"The houses go up, steady and strong. The pump gives water, as we planned. And if the harvest comes in as we hope, we'll have food enough for the next season."

A ripple of relief moved through the crowd.

"But that's not enough."

The relief stilled.

"We can't rely on a harvest that hasn't happened yet. We don't know what tomorrow will bring. A storm, a blight, bandit. We need another layer of security. A way to stand on more than just what the fields give us."

He let that sink in.

"We need our economy to grow. And we start now."

Tobren stepped forward, unrolling a chart, but said nothing. This was Ren's moment.

"We begin slow. Careful. Today, we sort out who does what. Not just to survive, but to build. To trade. To thrive. We'll group you by skill, by strength. No one's wasted. No hand is idle."

His voice softened, but stayed firm.

"When I call your names, step forward. Line up by your new task. Tobren and I will explain the details once you're sorted. The rest, stand ready. We'll find work for every one of you."

"A murmur of agreement. Some nodded. Some straightened their backs, feeling both the weight and the pride of what was asked."

Ren glanced at Tobren, then back at the people he now led.

"This is the next step. And we begin now."

Tobren raised his voice, calling names.

The crowd shifted, sorting into lines. Builders. Farmers. Gatherers. Traders. Guards.

The first shape of the new village began to form.

Ren and Tobren moved between groups, explaining the work.

At last, they approached the final group, two waiting inside the tower.

A mid-forties woman with grey-white hair tied in a bun, and a mid-thirties man with light brown hair and sharp eyes already seated at the table.

Ren pulled out a chair and sat. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

The woman answered, calm. "It's fine, Ren."

The man nodded silently.

"Please, introduce yourselves."

The woman stood briefly. "Henda Voss. Some here call me Hen. My husband was a miller. I worked supply."

Ren gestured for her to sit.

The man stood. "Berreth Sann. Call me Berreth. I was a caravan clerk out of Central."

Ren nodded. "I've heard from Tobren. This village needs a supply warden and a trade master. I know what you can do. My question is… do you want the job?"

Henda smiled faintly. "I'm no good in the kitchen. I prefer this."

Berreth nodded. "I'll take it. I've friends in the trade. Maybe I can help the village."

Ren's gaze was steady. "Back when we started, we needed hands anywhere we could get them. Now things are stable. I don't plan to waste skilled hands digging dirt anymore."

Henda glanced at Berreth, then Ren. "We know. If you hadn't come, we wouldn't even have roofs over our heads."

Berreth agreed quietly. "That's the truth."

Ren shook his head. "I'm just someone trying to survive. Alright. Tobren will go over your tasks in detail. I'll check on the guild crew. Thank you, for helping this village move forward."

They rose, bowed slightly, and left to their work.

Ren had barely taken twenty steps from the tower when the shout came from the north gate.

"Riders! From the northeast!"

Ren turned. And there she was. Sera, riding hard, dust trailing behind like a banner. Behind her, three cloaked figures kept pace, their cloaks snapping in the wind.

By the time they reached the village edge, Ren was there.

"Took you long enough," he said, but the warmth in his voice was clear.

Sera smirked. "You try dragging these two across the Wasteland without losing your mind."

The riders dismounted in a tangle of motion. Tall woman, sharp-eyed, her robe marked with the Fifth Circle. The other, a lean man, sunburned, sleeves scorched, a Sixth Circle mark at his collar.

"This," Sera said, gesturing, "is Mariella. Water mage. Fifth Circle. And that's Jorn. Fire mage. Sixth Circle. Brilliant. Both of them. And insane."

Jorn grinned wide. "Where's the magic? What do you need? Is something buried here? Please tell me there are relics."

Mariella ignored him, already scanning the village. "I'll need space. Open ground. A clean water supplies. And somewhere I can test spells without burning down your houses."

Ren blinked, shook his head, amused. "You're as bad as Elias."

"Worse," Sera muttered.

Ren steadied himself. "Alright. Rest at the tower. Tobren will find you a place. I'll build a proper one once we can."

Jorn laughed, delighted. "Smart man. I like him already."

***

At the tower, Sera slumped in her chair, exhaustion written on her face.

Ren crossed his arms. "What happened? You look so—"

Sera rolled her eyes. "You think?"

Ren smirked. "Yeah, I guess I know."

She straightened, breathing deep. "I know about the rings. They helped me."

"Are they people you really trust?"

"Yes. You can tell them about the hammer too if you want. They only care about magic. Nothing else."

"Call them in. We'll talk at the table. I'll grab the hammer."

Ren climbed the stairs, picked up the hammer, the map, and the cubes he'd bought from the black market.

As he came down, the scene felt like déjà vu. Their eyes, sharp and waiting, just as Elias's had been when he'd waited for the blueprint.

Ren set the hammer, map, and cubes on the table.

"You know what this is?"

The two mages leaned in, examining the hammer from every angle.

Jorn's grin returned. "Can I touch it?"

Ren glanced at Sera and smiled. "Pick it up if you want."

Jorn hesitated, noticing the look between them. "What happened with you two?"

Sera crossed her arms. "Pick it up. I'll lick your feet right now if you can."

Mariella stepped forward first. "I'll try. I'm the lowest Circle here anyway."

Ren nodded. "Go ahead."

She gripped the hammer with both hands, pulled lightly, then harder. Nothing. Not a scrape. Not a shift. It might as well have been part of the table.

Mariella let go, frowning. "That's... not normal."

Jorn stepped in, confident. "It's just stubborn."

He grabbed it, pulled with all his strength. Once, twice, harder until his face flushed. Still, the hammer stayed where it was.

Sera smirked. "I told you. Might as well try lifting the tower."

Jorn stepped back, rubbing his wrists. "Alright. What is this thing?"

Ren didn't answer at first.

He simply reached out, lifted the hammer as if it weighed nothing, and set it down again with a soft thump.

The room fell silent.

Ren's gaze swept over them. "It moves for me."