Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: First Stones, First Oaths

Morning wore the color of resolve. The light that passed for a sun poured over frames and trenches until the raw edges of Novaterra looked almost deliberate. Founders' Way took footprints like it had been waiting for them. Someone tried to whistle and failed cheerfully; someone else told them to keep failing because it kept time. 🙂

Elara was already in the oval, spear in hand, showing Cadre Alpha how not to skewer your own toes. Her voice carried: steady, dry, patient. Every correction was small and sharp. Every praise was rarer than rain and worth twice as much.

Aiden let the sound steady him, then opened the System Shop.

He'd dreamed in blue panes and ledgers, in roads that met gates that met walls that held back storms that existed only as a promise in a god's cold voice. He did not wake rested. He woke ready.

"Time to spend smart," he murmured.

The Special tab pulsed—an offer he'd closed yesterday, still waiting with a gambler's smile.

Lucky Blueprint Crate — 1–3 random building/war-engine blueprints (Uncommon→Legendary). 10,000 GC. 🎁

Aiden could hear Lucien Duvall's phantom coin flicking in his head and almost smiled. "I won't make a habit of this," he told no one, or maybe himself. "But a blueprint can change a decade."

"Purchase."

[Purchase Confirmed] • Lucky Blueprint Crate — 10,000 GC Coins: 78,800 → 68,800 Open now? (Y/N)

"Open."

The air above the altar rippled, and three sheets of blue light unfurled like banners and then sank into his view as text.

[Blueprint: Small Scorpion] — Roman-style torsion bolt-thrower. • Cost to build: 100 Wood, 50 Iron, 20 Leather • Range: Long; Piercing bonus vs. armored • Crew: 3 [Blueprint: Forester's Hut] • Passive Wood Income (sustainable forestry) • Unlocks Lumber Mill upgrade • Site: Forest edge recommended [Blueprint: Stone Castle] — Unique (Lord-Bound) • Capital stronghold; massive morale & defense bonuses • Requirements: 10,000 Wood, 50,000 Stone, 2,000 Iron, 20 Magic Crystals • Build Time (base): Years • Personalization: Reflects Lord's rule

For a heartbeat he didn't breathe.

Elara's shadow crossed him. She'd come up without noise. "Good pull?" she asked, not pretending disinterest.

"War engine. Sustainable wood. And…" He swallowed, a little giddy and a little afraid. "A castle."

Elara's eyes warmed, then sharpened. "A prize and a burden. Build it—and everything that covets such things will find you."

"I plan to have a wall before I have enemies," Aiden said, and hoped it came off as calm strategy and not a talisman against fear.

"Acceptable," Elara said, which was her way of saying good while pretending restraint. 😏

He closed the glow and moved before the elation curdled into paralysis. "We're establishing a river village," he called to the near crews. "Two hundred volunteers. Ten kilometers north. You leave within the hour with carts, stakes, and two water pumps. Houses first, docks second. The village will be called Riversong—for the sound I want to hear when this place is quiet."

Names mattered. People stood taller when they could say home without pointing.

Mara adjusted her shawl and started calling names with the authority of someone who'd been scheduling people since before Aiden existed. "You, you, and you—you've got hands like you can tie a straight line without a board. Take rope. You two—fishing nets. No, not the rotten ones; Venn, stop pretending you don't know where the better bundle is."

Venn clutched his ledger like a life ring and surrendered two neat coils with a sigh that fooled no one. 😌

Aiden pointed (with thought) to the western tree line. "We're also anchoring a Forester's Hut at the forest edge. One hundred fifty volunteers. Replant as you cut. I want wood coming in without bleeding the forest dry."

Ansel flicked his mallet toward the dark smudge of green. "We'll make it sing, lord."

"And we feed the beast that feeds us," Aiden added, opening Animals & Beasts.

Chickens — herd pack (50). 500 GC. 🐔

Cows — herd pack (50). 2,500 GC. 🐄

He'd dreamed of horses, too—lines of cavalry cutting the field like ink across parchment—but the ledger was the ledger. "Pens for livestock," he said. "We're getting chickens and cows now. Horses—soon."

He purchased.

[Purchase Confirmed] • Chickens (50) — 500 GC • Cows (50) — 2,500 GC Coins: 68,800 → 65,800

"Thirty to pens and fencing," he said. "Henhouses, shade, troughs. Don't overpack them. Healthy animals feed better than dead ones."

The ground near the supply stacks lit with ghost-posts and rails. Peasants cheered as a crate of flustered chickens popped into existence with indignant clucks, followed by the heavy, offended silence of cows who seemed personally insulted by teleportation.

"Welcome to Novaterra," Mara told a cow, deadpan. The cow blinked. 🙃

Aiden toggled to Population.

Priest — 3,000 GC. 🙏

Soldier (Lv. 11–15) — 1,200 GC (limit 10 for now)

He didn't pretend he could face grief with schedules alone, or that duty would pretty all wounds. "We need a voice that lifts and hands that heal," he said, and bought a Priest.

The man who appeared wore simple gray, not gold. His hair was salt-and-pepper, his eyes kind and exhausted in the way that comes from choosing to stand where people cry. He bowed, not to the altar but to the people. "I am Calder," he said. "Say where the wounded will go. And the grieving." He didn't look at Aiden when he added, "There will be both."

"Near the granary," Aiden said softly. "Food and comfort belong together."

"Wise," Calder said, and went to work without waiting to be guided.

Aiden inhaled. "We also need a spine." He bought ten Soldiers; hardened men and women slipped into ranks with the quiet of people accustomed to being loud only when told. Elara glanced over, assessing gear and gait at a distance the way a hawk assesses a field.

"Competent," she said. "Not brilliant. Useful." She lifted her chin toward the oval. "They'll anchor the line while the recruits learn not to stab the sky."

He nodded, grateful for competence that didn't demand fanfare. The coin total dipped; he didn't look away.

[Purchase Confirmed] • Priest — 3,000 GC • Soldiers x10 — 12,000 GC Coins: 65,800 → 50,800

The number sat like a weight. He didn't flinch. He opened Resources → Extraction.

Universal Mine (Rare) — Anchors to rich seam; yields per cycle:Iron (100), Coal (200), Stone (200), Magic Crystal (x1).Requires: 100 Peasants staff continuously.Cost: 50,000 GC.

Elara read over his shoulder (or would have, if the you-can't-touch rule didn't turn shoulder into metaphor). "That would make a blacksmith sing," she observed. "And put iron in a lot of hands."

"It will also make the wall more than a wish." He bought it.

[Purchase Confirmed] • Universal Mine — 50,000 GC Coins: 50,800 → 800 Site? (Select)

He swallowed a wince at the remaining coins and dragged the anchor to a low shelf of rock east of the camp where the System showed buried seams like veins under skin. The ground pulsed; a dark maw unzipped itself, ringed in sturdy timbers that hadn't existed a heartbeat before. The air turned cool.

"Assign one hundred to the mine," Aiden said. "Three shifts. Safety watch. Ropes, lamps, masks. No heroics underground."

The System obeyed.

[Mine Online] • Staffing: 100 Peasants (3 shifts) • Cycle Yield (daily): Iron: 100 Coal: 200 Stone: 200 Magic Crystal: 1 • Safety: Basic (Upgradable)

The word Magic Crystal glowed like temptation. He filed it under later and careful and oh please let it not blow up.

Aiden checked the Assignments panel, making sure his orders didn't strangle each other.

[Assignments — Midday] • Shelter: 200 (foreman Ansel) — Houses (framing) • Waterworks: 40 — Pumps & cisterns (operational) • Sanitation: 30 — Latrines (maintained) • Logistics: 100 (lead Venn) — Rations, Stores, Staging • Pens & Fencing: 30 — Livestock enclosures • Riversong Expedition: 200 — Departing now • Forester's Hut Crew: 150 — Marching west • Mine: 100 — Online (3 shifts) • Training Cadre Alpha: 150 — Drills (Elara) • Soldiers (x10): On standby; rotate into drills & patrol • Priest Calder: Clinic set near Granary Coins: 800 Morale: Steady → Hopeful 🙂

For a breath he let himself feel it: the shape of ordered motion, like a loom finally threaded and the first line of cloth visible.

"Founders' Way isn't a promise anymore," he murmured. "It's a plan."

"Riversong departing!" someone shouted.

A column of two hundred lifted packs and poles, shouldered tools, and took the northern track with a ripple of cheers and a blur of waving hands. Jory ran messages up and down the line like a dog bred for it, too excited to remember he was supposed to look serious. Elara watched them go with hooded eyes and then peeled off ten recruits to begin patrol drills, motioning two of the bought Soldiers to shadow them. "Walk the lines," she told them. "Walk again."

"Forester's Hut moving out!" came the call from west. The crew marched with axes over shoulders and sapling bundles that looked like hope pretending to be a tree. The forest hunched like a darker sky beyond the grass. Aiden's skin prickled. He opened the Watchtower interface.

"Horn calls review," he said.

Jory scrambled up the braces, face determined. He blew the first call—stranger approaching—clean. The second—fire—was shrill and scared the chickens into indignant uproar. The third—wolves—wobbled, then steadied on the exhale. Elara nodded once.

Mara leaned on a fence post, watching the livestock settle. "You've a look," she told Aiden. "Name it."

"Wolves," he admitted. "Forest. Practice. All of that." He blew out a slow breath. "And the castle."

"The what," she said, impressed and exasperated at once.

"Blueprint," he confessed, and showed her the Stone Castle pane.

Her eyebrows tried to escape. "Oh, my sweet foolish lord," she said with fondness. "Yes, then. Plan it. And plan the wall that keeps raiders from moving in before the mortar sets."

"Already on the board," he said, and opened the Megaproject tool he'd been afraid of because the numbers looked like cliffs.

[Megaproject: Capital Wall] • Plan: Square, 2.5 km per side. Gates N/E/S/W. • Materials Needed: Wood: 10,000 Stone: 50,000 Iron: 500 • Estimated Build Time (current manpower): ~8 years • Upgrades: Gatehouses, Towers, Parapets, Murder holes (Elara: "Don't call them that in front of children.")

Elara leaned in, reading the lines like a general reads a battle. "We begin foundations in segments," she said. "Not a pretty square from the start—a strong corner, then a second, then the run between. Each finished piece protects the next. Gatehouses last. A gate is the hole in your heart until it has teeth."

"Teeth," Aiden repeated. "We have a scorpion."

"Blueprint," Elara corrected, then cocked a brow. "But I won't stop you from building it." 😌

Aiden flipped to War Engines and queued Small Scorpion x1 using wood and the iron that would tick out of his newborn mine by dawn.

[Queued: Small Scorpion] • Materials reserved: 100 Wood, 50 Iron, 20 Leather (request issued to Logistics) • Crew selection pending • ETA: 2 days after materials staged

"Venn," he called. "Find me twenty leather. Trade, weave, improvise. I don't care if it's a pile of cured boots and a prayer."

Venn looked deeply offended on behalf of ledgers everywhere and went to make it happen. 🫡

The day stretched, then folded. The Riversong expedition sent back its first report by runner: Reached banks. Ground firm. Water sweet. First stakes down. Fish visible. Aiden felt giddy at fish visible; it was such a human detail it turned lines into lives. He sent back a simple reply: Proud of you. Work smart. Send list of needs at dusk.

From the west came a horn—stranger approaching—and a moment of held breath. The watch called down: "Forester crew returning—scout team only!" It was the group Elara had sent to skirt the treeline ahead of the main body. Their leader, a woman with a scar through her left eyebrow and the steady way of someone who liked trees more than crowds, reported: "Tracks. Wolves, boar. No sign of two-legged trouble. Smell of old fire. We'll build on the edge, not in."

Elara approved. "Practice wolf-call tonight," she said mildly, and the foresters groaned like students assigned extra homework. 😬

Aiden stood at the edge of the new mine as twilight (or whatever this world used instead) began to silver the edges of things. The entrance breathed cool earth. Lanterns bobbed far inside like small, polite stars. He thought of the numbers that would cough out of this hole each day: iron, coal, stone, a single, strange crystal that felt like a promise or a debt. He thought of the wall lines his mind had traced in light and Elara's correction—strong first, pretty later—and nodded to himself.

Calder drifted to his side, quiet as a prayer. "You have the eyes of someone counting years," the priest said.

"Ten," Aiden answered. "I intend to spend every day twice."

Calder's mouth tipped. "Then you will need room for the days grief steals. They come even when you plan well."

"I know," Aiden said, and was surprised to find that he did. "Thank you for making a place for them."

"It's what I'm for." Calder looked toward the oval where Elara was turning raw panic into footwork. "She is what she's for, too."

"Lucky me," Aiden said, then, because truth was nicer when it was honest, "Lucky us."

The Evening Summary pinged, insistent as a cat.

[Evening Summary — Novaterra] • Riversong: Founded (Stakes & First Frames). Distance: 10 km north (river) • Forester's Hut: Site cleared; foundation tomorrow • Universal Mine: Online — First cycle due at dawn • Livestock Pens: Completed; Chickens (50), Cows (50) settled • Clinic: Operational (Calder) • Training: Cadre Alpha — Day 1 completed (no injuries) • War Engine: Small Scorpion (queued; materials partial) • Morale: Hopeful 🙂 • Coins: 800

Eight hundred. It should have scared him. It didn't, because it wasn't a ledger for a week—it was a ledger for a day. Tomorrow iron would breathe out of the ground. Wood would start to grow back because he'd chosen a hut instead of a wildfire. Food would taste a little better because it had a priest's blessing and a pump that didn't make you sick. A scorpion would exist because he'd grabbed a blueprint with both hands and refused to think of luck as sin.

He looked east. In the far, far distance—too far to be anything but imagination and System courtesy—something flashed like a coin catching light. Duvall, perhaps, testing a new toy. He looked south and tasted the iron of a man's ambition on the air. He looked west and hoped the gentle girl with the healer had found soft ground for her own frames.

Elara came to stand beside him, helmet under her arm, sweat carving new maps through the dust on her cheek. "They'll blister. They didn't break," she reported. "That's a foundation."

"Foundations," Aiden echoed, thinking of Venn inventing categories and Mara inventing rules and Ansel inventing swears for angles that weren't square. "Tomorrow we start a segment of the wall. Not pretty. Strong."

Elara's mouth curved. "Good."

"And we set a rotation for night watches," he added. "Two of the bought Soldiers per watch, ten recruits to learn how to listen to quiet."

"Better," she said, and after a pause: "Proud." The word landed like a hand on a shoulder he couldn't feel. He felt it anyway. 🫶

They watched as the last of the Riversong runners came in with a scrap of cloth that smelled like river and hope. They watched as the forester scouts lit three small, civilized fires at the edge of the big wild black, each one a polite note that said we will not be stupid. They watched as the mine lamp dimmed to a soft pulse like a heart inside the hill.

Aiden breathed the day in and let it out.

"Novaterra," he said to the dark that wasn't quite dark. "Today you stood. Tomorrow you learn to run."

Somewhere in the west, something howled. Jory lifted the horn, looked to Elara; she shook her head with a barely-there smile. He lowered it, flushed and grinning. Practice would be for when practice mattered. Tonight, they slept with blisters and plans.

And at the altar, the silver lines dreamt in quiet geometry of vows kept and battles to come.