The construction of the village's new defenses became the central focus of community life as the warmer season reached its peak. The rhythmic thud of heavy logs being set into the earth, the scrape of sharpened sticks digging into the soil, and the murmur of voices coordinating efforts filled the air from sunrise to sunset. The initial test section of the trench and palisade, crude but undeniably sturdy, stood as a tangible symbol of their collective effort and a source of growing confidence.
Every able-bodied villager contributed. The strongest men, like Finn, led the efforts in felling the necessary trees from the nearby forest (carefully chosen to avoid angering any perceived spirits of particularly ancient or significant growths) and hauling the heavy logs to the perimeter. Women and older children worked tirelessly digging the trench, using woven baskets to carry away the loosened earth. Borin and the other toolmakers were constantly busy, sharpening digging sticks and axes, their hands calloused and stained with sap and soil.
Elias, despite his small size, was a constant presence on the construction site. He couldn't lift the heaviest logs, but he carried smaller ones, helped clear brush from the trench line, and assisted in weaving the smaller branches and mud used to reinforce the palisade. More importantly, he was the living blueprint. He moved along the perimeter, pointing out where the trench needed to be deeper, where the earth bank needed to be higher, and how the logs should be angled and secured. His simple words, combined with clear gestures and the dirt-drawn diagrams he constantly updated, guided the villagers' efforts.
He explained the concept of overlapping fields of fire, showing where gaps in the palisade could allow attackers to find cover. He demonstrated how a curved section of wall was stronger than a straight one against a direct impact. He even introduced the idea of a simple gate mechanism, a heavy log that could be lowered and raised, a concept far more secure than their current method of simply blocking the entrance with brush.
The villagers, though sometimes puzzled by the specific details, trusted his judgment. They had seen the results of his other 'new ideas' – the thriving field, the preserved meat, the sharper tools. If Elias said a deeper trench here or an angled log there would make them safer, they were willing to put in the extra effort. There were moments of frustration, of course. Digging was backbreaking work, and moving the heavy logs was exhausting. Arguments would occasionally flare up, born of fatigue and the sheer difficulty of the task. But Kaelen, a steady presence, would intervene, reminding them of the purpose, of the bounty from the last harvest, of the need to protect what they had built.
As the weeks passed, the defensive line slowly extended around the village perimeter. The trench, a jagged scar on the landscape, grew deeper, the earth piled high behind it. The palisade of sharpened logs rose steadily, a formidable barrier compared to their previous flimsy fence. The village was visibly transforming, hardening its shell against the outside world.
Elias, working alongside the villagers, felt a deep, quiet satisfaction. This was building, real building, on a scale far beyond anything he had imagined in his Earth life. It wasn't just about structures; it was about organizing people, coordinating labor, applying knowledge to solve a fundamental problem – security. He thought about the Roman legions building their marching camps, the medieval castles rising stone by stone, the planning and effort required to create enduring defenses. He was applying those same principles, albeit with stone age tools and materials, in a world that felt both ancient and utterly alien.
One afternoon, while working on a section of the trench that bordered a particularly dense part of the forest, a group of young men, led by Finn, unearthed something unusual. They had been digging deeper than usual at Elias's insistence, creating a more significant obstacle for potential attackers. Their digging sticks struck something hard that wasn't stone or root.
Curiosity replacing their exhaustion, they dug around the object. It was metallic, dark and strangely smooth, unlike any stone or wood they knew. As they uncovered more of it, its shape became clearer – a long, flat section, intricately patterned with lines and symbols they didn't recognize. It was clearly artificial, made by hands, but not their hands.
Word spread quickly. Villagers gathered around the edge of the trench, murmuring in hushed tones. Kaelen was summoned. He knelt beside the object, running a hand over its smooth, cool surface. His scarred face was etched with a mixture of awe and apprehension. He spoke, his voice low. "The Old Ones," he said, using their term for the ancient, mysterious beings of their myths. "Their markings."
Elias pushed his way to the front, his mind racing. Metal. Intricate patterns. This wasn't a natural formation. It was a manufactured object, buried deep beneath the earth. It suggested a history, a civilization, that predated the village, perhaps even the forest itself. He thought of archaeological digs on Earth, the uncovering of artifacts from lost cultures.
He knelt beside Kaelen, examining the object. It seemed to be a large plate or panel, made of a dark, non-reflective metal that felt incredibly dense. The patterns weren't just decorative; they seemed to follow a deliberate design, a complex network of lines and shapes that hinted at a purpose he couldn't fathom. He touched the symbols, tracing their unfamiliar forms. They felt cool and smooth beneath his fingertips.
The villagers were hesitant to touch it, their fear of the 'Old Ones' palpable. Kaelen, however, seemed more intrigued than afraid. He looked at Elias. "What is this, child?" he asked, his voice quiet. "Do your sky-stories speak of such things?"
Elias shook his head. His Earth knowledge had no direct equivalent for this. It was clearly metal, but unlike any metal he knew. It was too dark, too smooth, too resistant to the elements that had buried it for what must have been a very long time. It was a mystery, a tangible piece of the unknown history of this world.
He pointed to the object, then to the ground, then made a gesture of something being buried long ago. He then pointed outwards, away from the village, and made a gesture of searching, of looking for more. This object wasn't alone. If there was one piece of this strange metal, there might be more. Perhaps even tools, weapons, or other artifacts that could help the village.
Kaelen understood the gesture. He looked from the unearthed object to the forest, his gaze distant. The discovery had stirred something within the village, a reminder that their small clearing was just a tiny part of a much larger, older world. The sounds of hammering and digging had stopped. A new kind of silence had fallen over the construction site, filled with the unspoken questions raised by the strange metal from the earth.