By the week's end, a strange little circle had formed around Adrian:
Lukas, the boy who shadowed him everywhere, charcoal always in hand.
Elara, strong despite her grief, determined to work harder than most of the men.
Torren, the blacksmith, who had taken to Adrian's kilns with a craftsman's passion, hammering out tools to speed the work.
And the others… they began to follow too. Not because Adrian demanded it, but because results spoke louder than any chief's words.
The chief noticed. His cane dug deeper into the earth with every step as he watched the Builder gathering loyalty that should have been his.
That night, as Adrian oversaw the foundation of Elara's new home, he heard Lukas ask, "Master… are we going to build just houses?"
Adrian paused, staring at the glowing kiln, the stacks of bricks, the villagers who worked even after sundown.
"No," he said slowly. "We're going to build a future. One brick at a time."
And for the first time in years—perhaps in both lives—he believed it.