Adrian looked down at him, remembering the apprentices he used to train back in the world that betrayed him. For a moment, the bitterness rose again—then he sighed, ruffling the boy's hair.
"Yeah, kid. I'll teach you. But only if you work hard. Building isn't just strength—it's patience."
The boy grinned from ear to ear.
But not everyone was smiling.
As the villagers admired the new brick house, the chief stood apart, cane pressed into the dirt. His eyes were sharp, troubled.
"Stone houses. Kilns of fire. Trenches and traps," he muttered under his breath. "This stranger changes everything too quickly. If word spreads…"
He looked toward the horizon, where smoke from another village rose faintly in the distance.
"…the lords will notice. And when they do, blood will follow."