“Ahhhh!” I screamed in frustration before kicking the pot. I regretted it immediately, but it was better than punching a tree.
I was truly tempted to drop my seventy-one saved points into crafting, just to see if it would help me make this damn stuff.
Ten times. A hundred times. A thousand! It didn’t matter. I didn’t know if I would ever manage to get concrete. I just didn’t know what the hell went into it. April had never been interested, and why would she be? She was an actor.
How dare that stupid girl not study the basic building blocks of her world’s infrastructure!
I slumped heavily against a tree, staring at the failed concoction. Rage faded to a miserable acceptance that this viscous, runny liquid was yet another failure.
It had only been a few weeks. I still had time. Concrete wasn’t necessary for the construction of my idea anyway, but I wanted it. It wouldn’t help the war, but it would certainly get buildings and roads in Tacuria up to a new standard. Until then, I’d just have to keep trying.
“And you lot call me a lout,” came a sudden voice. I turned and smiled as I found Burnom walking up the road. “At least my home had a cot! What is this place?”
"This isn’t my home.”
“Oh? Fooled me. I’ve been trying to find you for two days, but you’re never there. I finally had to ask Edra, and she told me you had a little… ‘lab’ out here.”
“Two days? I could swear I saw you just yesterday.”
“Five days ago. When you finished organizing help for my new house,” he said. “I haven’t seen you once since then.”
I thought back and flinched. It had been nearly a week. Once I’d gotten the ball rolling on his house’s construction, and I’d convinced some townsfolk to help, I hadn’t had time to follow up. “Sorry… Was there a problem? I can make sure to go talk to Oppa between… well, I have to meet the miller again in an hour, and I’m trying to get to know Irena better so I can finally build what she needs–!”
“Whoa, hold on, Lass,” he interrupted, staring critically at me as he approached. “You’ve not been sleepin’.”
“I sleep!” I insisted. “Sometimes…”
“Not enough,” he said. He grabbed me by the cheek and lifted my face. I tugged my face away, but even with the added motivation, I still couldn’t quite stop the yawn that escaped my lips.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I… just need to get ready. I need to make sure we are ready.”
“What for!?” he snapped. “There’s… a cloud hanging over you, Elmerina. It feels like you’re more worried than the rest of us. We repelled the attack, and the army is away, down back at the rift! All news points to Tacuria and Denarla mustering great big armies that can wipe out Eschal. Why are you behaving like another rift monster attack is right on our doorstep!? Is it that Masterful Talent of yours?”
I growled. I couldn’t tell him anything. I appreciated the sentiment behind his words, but it would be better if he’d just stop prying.
“We just… need to be ready. I don’t think its over.”
“And for some reason that’s the responsibility of a three-month-talented storyteller?” he asked.
“Who else!?” I shouted. “I… gods. It’s not me! I’m just the grease getting everyone moving.”
He looked at me skeptically, which irritated me.
“Just last week Fedenat and Sebinet nearly came to blows over the cost of metal! If that little wound had festered, production would’ve ground to a halt! If I had let that happen, we wouldn’t have the weapons we need!”
“Yes, but–!”
“On top of that, Dobretin started asking us to ration our food, and Mom still isn’t back, so everyone is angry and cold. The town is desperate for bandages, blankets, and all manner of clothes mending since Uraleka and Haddy are gone, and no one else has a tenth of their talent. I had to get the twins to do some sewing, but that slows down the production of crossbows, and so I need to–!”
“Gods, girl! Gods! Quiet! You’re boiling my brain!”
I chuckled, weirdly proud that my normal day was enough to make the man panic. I would gladly offload all of the responsibility, but I didn’t see how I could. Whoever said money made things easier had never come into a windfall with a war on their doorstep.
“I’ve seen you around town lately. Been pulled ten different directions. Everyone’s seen it. I just… well, my house is done, and I wanted to come take the statue back.”
My eyes widened.
“It’s done!? Already?”
I would’ve sworn it would take at least a month to get a whole new house up, but we did have a mine barely a stone’s throw outside town. The new cart and mine track were obviously speeding things along.
No one was asking questions, but I had noticed a difference. People weren’t looking at me the same way anymore. They got quiet before they remembered how they were supposed to act. They stared when they thought I wasn’t looking.
I trusted Fedenat, but I didn’t know Sebinet very well. Then again, the two of them were horrible actors. They could barely stop stuttering when they saw me. Perhaps this was just people noticing their unusual attitude… but I doubted it.
Kids in town were riding the mine cart like it was a mini roller coaster whenever Sebinet wasn’t using it. Even older ones, like the twins, had spent some time on it.
Neither of them gave a very good explanation for where the cart and the tracks had come from. Sebinet claimed he’d built it, but a toddler could bypass their deception skill. They fooled no one.
“Aye, it’s done. Needs some furniture. A table and a bed. Chairs,” Burnom replied.
“I’m glad you’ve managed to make your house. At least one of us is managing some success,” I grumbled, giving the big clay pot another kick with the sole of my shoe.
A mason with a high skill could probably turn the damn stone malleable and shape it like clay before letting it solidify or something. Maybe that was how he’d managed it so fast.
He nodded, wandering over to my jar. “Some good talents and skills here in town. What’s this?”
“Another failure, just like the rest,” I sighed.
“What are you trying to make?”
I eyed him. I hadn’t thought to ask anyone else about how to make concrete. April’s world had it, but this world had skills to make traveling easier as it was. Roads weren’t as necessary when caravans could move obstacles out of the way with the application of a high-level skill. I’d never seen anything that looked like it even in Denarla.
“A sort of rock that turns into hard stone once you allow it to sit. I’ve been waiting for this to dry for almost a day now, and it’s still not right. Seems more like paint than rock.”
He hummed, then stuck his fingers down in it. “Reminds me of daub.”
My eyes widened. Daub. No. Not daub! It was…!
New Item Crafted
Low Quality Stucco
He blinked as the item solidified. I knew this stuff was familiar! It was siding! It could weather-proof houses! This might even be useful on our wooden homes and log cabins!
“Stucco? I’ve… never heard of that before,” he said. “For warmth throughout
“It’s siding! You slap it onto the sides of your house just like daub, but it works better! I… I don’t know exactly how it should be applied, but this could keep our houses warm through the winter!
His eyes widened.
“We’ve… got to put this on Everesta’s house then,” he said.
I blinked. That was… surprisingly kind of him to think of. Newborns were always at risk in this world. A birth so close to winter wasn’t the most auspicious time.
“Everesta’s house? I didn’t know you even knew her,” I said.
He winced. “Of course I do. She’s a good one. Most of this town is.”
“They are,” I agreed. “I doubt I can make enough for a house, though. Concrete… well, I thought concrete would be more useful, but this…”
It was low quality, but it was an item. It became one the moment I recognized it as one.
“Throw your gold around then?”
I scowled. “I can’t just keep doing that. It’s not limitless! I have to balance how much people have with what they want to buy, and right now, what they'll need is grain… If Mom ever gets back.”
I wasn’t worried about Mom yet. The journey to Denarla was usually a week and a half. Maybe two weeks with a slow animal like Stoutgruff. She’d remade two more of her written teleportation sticks. I could break one and have her back as soon as she followed it.
“How is that different from buying every service under the sun you can get? Buy their labor, then sell them what they made. Or if you’re feeling truly generous, show them how to make this and don’t profit off it at all.”
I hesitated.
I was generous. I wanted everyone to survive and it would certainly help newborns… but we’d been living with our houses as they were for years. This was a luxury, not a necessity.
… but anyone who got it over the winter would make anyone who didn’t have it, jealous. If it worked like I thought it did, and if it had strong effects on wooden homes.
“I’ll certainly take some. This reminds me of some of the stronger mortars I remember from Chelun Dar, but their formula was a closely guarded secret.”
I grimaced. This was… useful. Incredible. But not a good use of villagers time when we needed to be preparing for an attack.
“I’d rather every hand possible help with building Travis’s walls. This… its useful, and I’ll certainly remember how I made it, but its not the best use of our time. Not right now, anyway.”
I grimaced, staring dejectedly at my lab. I’d only had a few free hours available, and I’d come here to try and rekindle my love of crafting. I hadn’t earned any points in the skill despite the new craft, and I’d wasted time that I could’ve spent working on–!
“Come with me,” he said.
I blinked.
“Huh?”
“Come to the bar. Nemmikel is gone, and we haven’t had a good story in weeks. Have another bowl of soup, tell a story, and take a night to rest. You’ll get nothing done in this state,” he said.
“That’s rich coming from you,” I said.
“Oy! Come on. We’ll bring my statue back, and I’ll show you what a proper stone house looks like.”
I glanced at him, and nodded. He reached down and helped me up, before we took off back toward my house.
I’d actually made something useful… I just didn’t have the time to use it. I’d try to make an exception for Everesta, but better a chilly winter than a village unprepared for an attack.
The luxuries of April’s world felt like they were just getting further and further away. This had been progress though.
Hovering above Burnom’s head was yet another need that was becoming all the more common lately. He needed something made with wool, flax, oil, and dye. It would protect him from wind magic.
Progress… but just not in the direction we needed.