The wagon train that came the day Mom left was only the first.
Wagons and families fleeing the conflict of towns further south flowed steadily into and through Pemolar’s Hill over the next few days. For once, the news wasn’t dire. Potato Gully was fine, as was Fenland and Tornet’s Reach, both towns further south yet surrounding the Great Ophician.
As far as these travelers knew, their towns had been fine when they left. Attacked, certainly, but not destroyed. These were the families that had gauged the situation down south and decided to gather their things and move north for a safer life. Perhaps they would return someday, but as I saw twice as many children as there were adults, I doubted it.
These people were fleeing to safety. Denarla and possibly the mountainous reaches even farther north were their destination.
Many of them, though, decided Pemolar’s Hill looked like a fine place. It’s watchtowers impressed them a little, but the twenty-foot-tall wall going up on the east side of town made them feel actually safe. The wall was wooden, made of logs with sturdy scaffolding behind it to allow archers to traverse the entire length. A wooden parapet. If given the time to finish it, it would turn all of Pemolar’s Hill into a gated community of sorts.
The workers had even gotten together independently and come up with a mechanism for a large gate that would cover the entire eastern road and could be closed and barred. It was starting to look like a proper… if somewhat crude, city wall.
Rather than a burden, the influx of new people was welcome. More hands made the load lighter, and more and more tradesmen appeared, each happy to lend their efforts to the construction of new walls.
I’d stopped Travis from making bows and converted him to making crossbows. Unfortunately, firing a crossbow bolt from Elsee’s weapon didn’t always produce a new bolt. The bolt had to be fired before it could be retrieved. I couldn’t cock the crossbow and then remove the bolt. Some of the bolts were destroyed by impact.
An entire market sprang up around the need for stable straw targets. Eventually, Elsee’s entire family couldn’t manage to keep the crossbow firing all day and night, and the Carpenter family began outsourcing the job. Elsee’s levels in the hunting skill didn’t exactly soar, but even they had begun to slow down after non-stop cocking and firing. I was certain her next level up would include at least a three-point boost to strength from the effort of pulling back the trigger alone. She must’ve fired thirty thousand of them in five days, and any time she stopped, someone else was there to pick up the bow.
The job was tedious, but exceptionally useful for developing Dexterity. A few people had leveled up, experiencing equal increases to their dexterity stat as strength due to the sheer number of projectiles fired. The better they aimed, the more likely they would receive a stat increase.
Elsee wasn’t the only one improving her skills, though. I finally created Oppa’s need. Something I’d done had increased our bond enough that the small amount of ink he had was enough to create the item, and it turned out to be a map of Pemolar’s Hill and the surrounding area, which had since been posted on the back wall of the bar.
That map showed deposits of wild plants still growing. It also helpfully showed all granaries in town, revealing that the Orchard family had built one on their property. They’d left town shortly after the draft, though, and they had not cleared it out, leading to a surplus of grain that would go bad if we didn’t liberate it.
The villagers could also permit him to see their own stocks, and their food stores were magically added to the map. At first, people were quite reluctant, but when I happily gave my permission, displaying a modest amount of unmilled wheat, it became a competition between the townsfolk to see who was more willing to provide.
My fire magic grew by another twelve points, and I wasn’t neglecting my talent either. Most of my crafts were weapons or armor, all prepared for more fights with war trolls. At least… that was what I wanted to believe.
An uncomfortable number of need bubbles involved humans now. This sword to kill humans, that shield to protect from a mace. That amulet to protect from wind magic… There were a surprisingly large number of earmuffs as well, to protect against auditory attacks.
Not sound magic. More evidence that Freyna just had a skill like Public Speaking or something similar, leveled so high that it could be used offensively.
She would come here. Either that or a quarter of Pemolar’s Hill would decide to make their way to the front lines. That seemed…. Unlikely to me. Either way, it left me with a lot of crafting to do. This time, I wouldn’t fuck it up. I would make sure we were ready.
I made nothing exceptional, like the Quake Blade or the Crossbow, but none of the items were useless either. A sword that never dulled might not sound flashy, but that could be the difference between life and death for a fighter.
Before I knew it, I’d earned another thirty-nine free points from relatively simple crafts that usually required far more supplies than the item I crafted might imply. Networking was finally proving its worth. A quick combination of easy insight into how to get close to people on an individual basis, mixed with the growing reputation of my talent, had people actively bringing the supplies I needed to craft. I barely even needed to leave the bar.
I’d feel pretty wonderful about myself if only everyone I cared about was here, too. Things were running smoothly. If someone wanted a crossbow and couldn’t afford one, well I bought something from them and then suddenly they could afford a crossbow! The outhousue was constantly pristine, as I bought the labor needed to make sure it always was! Sebinet found his mine filled with volunteers, happy to help mine the desperately needed ore, only to give the fat deposits to me for crossbows, or occasionally, food.
Coin flowed from my suddenly golden hand, and in short order, flowed right back. To my surprise, I found myself with even more coin than I’d begun with, and I was actively trying to get it into people’s hands! People would need money to buy my weapons, and they would need more money to buy grain, the closer we got to winter. I held nothing back. I offered as freely as I could. I didn’t care if I ran out, and somehow, I didn’t even seem to be able to lose any.
The coin brought about an economic boom the likes of which I’d never seen. Excess coin in other people’s pockets fueled projects geared toward the defense of the town, entirely independent of me. This was their home too, and they wanted to defend it every bit as much as I did.
“Mera, do you think…?”
“Mera, can we get…?”
“Elmerina, my Da’s struggling to get up these days. Is there somewhere closer to town that could hold him?”
“Miss Elmerina, thank you so much! With this… with this I think we’ll be able to make it!”
“I don’t feel right with it. But… its not about feelin’ right, is it? I’ll learn to use it. I’ll be hunting birds with it by the end of Brittle, you’ll see!”
“Mera, tell us a story!”
“Mera!”
Fevered’s widow, Umoira, improved her earthen household magic, usually for tilling ground, into full grown Earth magic, and she was selling lessons as frantically as I was. This was only possible because people now had the coin to pay her!
I bought ideas and recipes. I bought people’s labor and asked them to help Burnom build his stone house, only to transition straight to building traps and pitholes outside the gates in case any attackers came as soon as it was done. Witnesses of the new building were immediately jealous of its warmth and cozy interior. It was only a single room, but it sparked immediate jealousy.
Suddenly, Burnom was flush with more coin than he knew what to do with.
Still more people entered the town, and I bought their labor. I bought their hands, as a granary went up, and then, on an impulse, I requested another bathroom, and another bridge across the river. A wider one, capable of housing multiple wagons, which newly arrived carpenters took to with a fury.
Somehow still couldn’t even lose a single gold coin.
The seed money was somehow compounding, and it wasn’t just me alone.
Edra, too, was selling lessons, and a few new water mages had been born over the past few days. Water mages, which were desperately needed as Edra alone was no longer enough to keep the bathroom clean.
The ore I ‘bought’ from busy townsfolk went straight to Fedenat as I began requesting newer and larger metal projects. I had two ideas, but one of them seemed obvious to me. Mom insisted that it was a good one, but I agonized over it endlessly.
The one thing Tacuria had a surplus of was fire mages, and if I could use that, I could make a weapon so strong no army would dare challenge us.
It was a week to Denarla and back, with at least a week in between for Mom to trade. The month of Harvest ended, and Brittle began as I waited for Mom to return, and my time limit dwindled. In that time, Pemolar’s Hill transformed from a sleepy little village to a roaring town. Tthe wagon trains coming in showed no signs of slowing down. More and more people decided that Pemolar’s Hill was far enough from the rift break as they found fortified walls going up, good food, more weapons than they knew what to do with, and not a small bit of entertainment at the Bar.
Mitoras folks began recovering, too, as more healers joined Normuran in his endless struggle against the sicknesses and injuries brought in by the out of towners.
Through it all, I never let myself stop trying to improve either.
I ducked, barely dodging a jet of water that flew past me. I grinned as I held up a hand, letting a small ball of fire form and linger there, intercepting the next jet with ease. The water evaporated to steam on contact with my tiny fireball, and I dispelled the fire, diving into the steam for cover as Akkiwa cursed.
She dodged, anticipating an explosion, and she was right as she just barely avoided being scorched. She lifted her hands, preparing a shield of water, but I charged straight through the steam, holding tight to my weapon.
She squeaked and leaped back as my stick slammed into her water shield, feeling much like attacking a lake with a stick.
The water suddenly lost cohesion and fell to the ground with a splash, freeing my stick, but I’d already dropped the handle. I jumped to the left, just barely avoiding another jet of water.
Magic was notoriously difficult to train with. Those jets of water were pretty weak right now, but as the skill leveled, they would eventually become too deadly to use. As they were now, they’d bruise me if they managed to hit me, but before long, they’d begin tearing away skin. The jets would get thinner, stronger, and faster. Her ability to control and manipulate water would become akin to telekinesis, where she could hold bubbles of water over people’s heads, or orbit around her in a watery shield that would slow almost any attack.
My own fire magic was equally dangerous. I could hurt her with it, but her water magic made her the perfect opponent for me. Both of us were beginners, and both of us needed far more than just magic if we wanted to survive.
Before she could send more jets, or close in on me, I threaded the area between us with the oily hot mana of fire magic. She sent another jet, and I cursed, dodging back towards my fallen stick. Her magic could disperse mine.
She tried to follow the jet, aiming to hit me with her own stick, but I grinned as she walked straight into my fire mana.
I lit it with a spark, and Akkiwa screamed as it burst in an oily explosion. The fire bounced harmlessly off her water magic, but I saw a burned hem of cloth on her shirt where she hadn’t been perfectly shielded.
“Point, Mera!” called Edra, retracting the water magic that had protected Akkiwa. “Sorry Akki. Mera wins this round.”
The beautiful girl scowled and threw her stick on the ground. “Dammit! I can’t even see that! Fire magic isn’t supposed to be invisible!”
I had twenty-nine points in fire magic, and Akkiwa had only just picked up the skill for Water Magic from Edra in the past few days. She’d grown incredibly quickly and made it all the way to level twenty in the skill, but we were already reaching the point where Edra’s own mastery wouldn’t be enough to protect us in spars. The quick growth would come to an end soon.
Akkiwa made up for that by having a rather large mana pool, and quite a few points in mana regeneration, as well as healing magic. She’d been learning that from her father for almost a year, and I watched as she held a hand to her own arm, green light washing over the sunburn my explosion would probably have given her otherwise.
"You’re just mad cuz you lost!” I shouted, amused.
Your Fire Magic skill has improved!
Your Footwork skill has improved!
Your Mana Pool skill has improved!
“Yeah, we’ll see how you feel about that next time!” she called back, laughing. “You don’t get any healing when we try this tomorrow!”
Edra approached the both of us, looking possibly more tired than either of us. The portly barkeeper’s stringy blonde hair was matted with sweat. She seemed more tired than either of us, which made sense. She was very adept with nearly seventy points in water magic, but she’d gained her water magic without a teacher. She’d only picked up Mana Regeneration and Mana Pool after she’d gained Water Magic, and so she only had so much mana to throw around.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep this up tomorrow girls,” she said softly. “I’ll likely need a day to rest this one off. You’re getting too fast for me.”
Both of us turned to her, eyes pleading. Our skills were growing by leaps and bounds. Neither of us had experienced such rapid growth in years, and we were having a fantastic time with it.
“Don’t look at me like that! Besides, Lupkep is drowning with all the new patrons flooding into the bar and I’ve got other students that need attention, too!”
She gave a pointed look at Akkiwa, who wilted under the glance. Akkiwa was getting water magic lessons, with the expectation that one or two of her pigs would go to the barkeeper over the winter for ham and bacon.
“Alright, alright. It’s not like I don’t have plenty to do anyway,” I said. “Thanks for doing this for us though Edra. The skill growth is unbelievable. I just hit thirty!”
“Twenty-one here!” Akkiwa said.
Edra rolled her eyes.
“Well, get on home then, girls. Akkiwa, are you staying with Mera again tonight?” she asked.
Akkiwa nodded. “It’s already way too late to head back home.”
Edra nodded. “Good. Your father really should come back into town, too, but I suppose if anywhere is safe, it’s the northwest side of town.”
“Good luck getting him to do that. It’s a wonder he let me come!”
“He’s a softy,” I said. “He wouldn’t want me to be stuck here all alone.”
I said it like a joke… but I was thankful. April had slept alone plenty of times, but I hardly ever had. The two-bedroom house that looked so small from the outside felt cavernous when it was just me there alone.
“He should anyway,” the woman said softly.
She opened her arms and gave us both a quick hug before turning to walk back into town. We were on the north end of my farm again, and it was only a short walk back to the house.
We laughed together, telling jokes, and growing closer as the night grew dark. We pretended there wasn’t a war. We talked about Reid, and we talked about what Akkiwa liked in men. We didn’t bring up the Rechin Princess thing. It felt wrong, somehow.
Late that night, when I was low on mana and couldn’t hold up a flickering candle on my finger anymore, I pulled out the package Hadra had given me. I admired the soft white cloth, practically glowing in the moonlight.
Tears slid down my cheeks, and Akkiwa held me as I stared at the wedding dress, praying Reid was okay.
She didn’t hear the darker thoughts. The all-consuming terror of what I might become if ever he wasn’t.
Another day passed.
Even here on the far edge of town, I could hear the constant thunk of crossbow bolts slamming into straw targets.
Distant war dragged on, and my town grew quietly mighty.