As Ethan stood in front of the dilapidated building that had once been the City Hall, the sun peeked through a few scattered clouds. With its timber roof drooping dangerously and walls patched with mismatched stone, it appeared more like a ruin than a place of government.
"The old baron ruled from here?" Ethan raised a brow and asked. Beside him,
Lina nodded. Indeed. No one ventured inside after he was gone. It was cursed, they said. I believe that people simply gave up.
Dust curling at his feet, Ethan crossed the cracked threshold into a long hall that led to a broken dais. Broken chairs, shattered glass, and mildew told the story of a long-abandoned government.
"We're rebuilding this first," he said firmly.
Over the course of the following week, teams of villagers cleared out the rubble, guided by Ethan's drawings, measurements, and tasks divided by skill level. Those with knowledge of stone were placed on foundation work, while he oversaw the beams, and Lina managed the inventory with an accuracy that even Ethan was surprised by.
He didn't have access to steel or modern equipment, but he had knowledge and more importantly, vision.
The new city hall would be simple but strong: thick stone walls reinforced with packed clay, wide windows for ventilation, and a raised wooden platform to serve as both council chamber and public court. Ethan was supposed to live in the smaller but stronger next room.
"No more separate manor for the lord," he had said. "The leader resides where people congregate. Let them observe the way decisions are taken.
It was strange, the villagers whispered, how different he was. But more joined every day. They observed that he worked next to them rather than above them. How he sketched by firelight and how he measured the beams' angles himself.
The new city hall started to take shape by the third week. The roof was constructed from layered thatch that had been treated with ash and oil; it was simple but weatherproof. A table long enough to accommodate twelve people was now in the center chamber; a council has not yet been established but will shortly.
Ethan stepped onto the platform and gazed out at the crowd on the day they laid the last stone.
"This isn't my hall," he declared. "You own it. Here is where we make plans, work out issues, and establish the foundation for the future.
After a pause, there was a slow applause from the rear. The person who had doubted the most was the carpenter. Then others joined, weary hands cheering a fresh start.
Ethan sat by the window in his small room that was connected to the hall that night. Lanterns flickered outside as families went by, their faces paler than he remembered. After bringing him tea, Lina stood silently for a while.
She whispered, "You've given them something they didn't know they needed."
Ethan nodded after taking another look outside. "I hope it's built on stone, not sand."