Athan wiped the sweat from his brow, his fingers stained with dirt as he looked over the small patch of land he had just planted. The seeds were nestled into the earth, a promise for the future, but his work was far from over. He knew he would need to monitor them, to find ways to ensure they received enough water and protection from animals. Yet, as he stood and dusted off his hands, a sense of accomplishment filled his chest. This was the beginning of something new.
As he turned to leave, his father, Wade, stood a few steps away, watching him. The man's strong frame was relaxed, but his sharp eyes were observant. Athan had noticed his father keeping a closer watch on him lately, not out of concern, but what seem to be curiosity. Wade didn't understand what Athan was doing most of the time, yet he never interfered. He simply observed, as if trying to piece together his son's vision.
Wade nodded toward the ground. "That?" he asked, his words simple, as always.
Athan pointed at the soil. "Food. Later," he explained, choosing the simplest words he could manage.
Wade grunted, stepping closer. He crouched down, running his fingers through the loose dirt. He had seen plants before, of course, but never ones intentionally placed in the ground. "Grow? Here?"
Athan nodded. "Yes. Water, sun. Then food."
Wade frowned slightly, as if weighing the idea in his mind. "Not hunt?"
Athan hesitated before answering. "Still hunt. But this... safer. More food. Always food."
His father exhaled through his nose, glancing at the sky before standing up. "Good... if works."
Athan smiled faintly. "Work. Just time."
Wade placed a large hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze before turning away, heading back toward the others who were still chopping trees, securing logs for the settlement and digging the trench. Athan watched him go, feeling a quiet satisfaction. His father didn't fully understand yet, but he didn't reject the idea either. That was enough for now.
Stretching his arms, Athan turned his attention back to the field. The work never stopped, and there was still much to be done. He decided his next task would be to create a system for watering the plants. If this was truly going to work, they needed a reliable way to keep the soil damp.
Grabbing a nearby branch, he started sketching a few ideas in the dirt. His first thoughts drifted to the river, thinking about the natural way the water flowed and where it began. The boy was then trying to figure out a way to divert that same water directly from the waterfall to the field. A good and quasi permanent solution would be to use cement and rock, as it would create a lasting structure, but they did not have the means to produce cement yet. Another viable method was to carve the middle of several tree trunks into a large U-shape, allowing gravity to naturally transport the water from the waterfall to the field. This would take some time and effort but was feasible with only a knife and patience.
The fastest and easiest way, however, would be to dig a trench in the earth, creating a temporary channel for the water to flow. Yet, he knew that over time, the water would continue eroding the soil, deepening and widening the passage unpredictably. Given the current limitations, the most viable short-term solution was to use the hollowed-out trees.
Determined to begin his work as soon as possible, Athan continued burning the stumps that littered the field. At the same time, he called out to his father and Yun, asking them to fell a few smaller trees near his location. Once he had the logs, he would begin carving them into U-shaped channels, ensuring that the water could be directed efficiently to the planted crops.
Before continuing with anything else, he used his stone knife to carve a wooden marker, carefully etching the shape of the seed onto it, since he did not yet know their names. Afterward, using a couple sturdy branches, he constructed a small protective enclosure around the first field, ensuring they would not be trampled or disturbed. Once the enclosure was in place, he firmly secured the wooden marker into the ground.
Satisfied with his first attempt, he stepped back and examined his work. It was crude, but it was a beginning. Taking his waterskin, he carefully poured some water over the newly planted field, ensuring the soil was properly moistened. With a nod of approval to himself, he resumed burning the remaining stumps, steadily clearing more of the land. Little by little, he was making progress, ensuring the field would soon be ready for cultivation.
In each newly cleared patch of soil, Athan carefully planted a different type of seed. He surrounded each square of land with a small wooden fence, marking the boundaries to ensure they remained undisturbed. He also placed a wooden marker at each section, carving into it the shape of the seed planted there.
While the logs burned, Athan turned his attention to carving the long trunks of the trees his father and Yun had set aside near the cultivated area. The different tasks he set for himself were so absorbing that he lost all track of time, fully immersed in the rhythm of his work.
By the time he noticed, the sun was already beginning to descend, casting golden light over the clearing. Realizing that dusk would soon be upon them, Athan set down his tools and made his way to the waterfall basin. He plunged his hands into the cool water, the sensation refreshing after the long hours of labor. The cold stream washed away the dirt and soot, revitalizing him.
Then, as he dried his hands, a thought struck him—his plan. He had left it out in the sun to dry, placed atop the large stone a little distance from the camp. Without hesitation, he turned and made his way toward it, hoping it was still intact.
As he went to retrieve it, he froze in front of the stone—his materials were no longer where he had left them. Turning toward the fire, his eyes first landed on Lara, stirring the evening soup. They must have gone to collect fish from the river trap, as several were now smoking over the fire. Tonight's meal had originally been intended to feature rabbit, smoked the previous night, along with root vegetables brought back by the hunting team. Additionally, they had managed to capture two plump birds, now roasting at a safe distance from the flames.
But Athan soon noticed something else. Several members of the clan had gathered around something near the fire. Turning his head, he realized that the items he had crafted that morning were now prominently displayed near his bedding, likely gathered by his mother. A wave of relief washed over him—at least they had not been lost.
Shifting his focus to the crowd, he edged closer, curiosity piqued by what had drawn their attention. As he neared, he saw his father and several other clan members crouched around the village map he had drawn, carefully inspecting the markings that detailed future constructions. Some pointed at specific areas, murmuring to each other in low voices, while others studied the layout with furrowed brows.
"Here, wall strong?" one of the hunter asked, tapping a section where the palisade was planned.
Wade nodded, running a calloused finger along the sketched perimeter. "Wood thick. But need rock too. More strong."
Another voice, Yun's, added, "We place rock at bottom? Stop wind, stop break."
Athan, now standing just within earshot, swallowed his excitement. They were considering his ideas seriously. He took another step closer and cleared his throat slightly, drawing their attention. His father turned his head toward him and gestured for him to step forward.
"You make this?" Wade asked, pointing to a specific marking on the map where the field was planned.
Athan nodded. "Yes. Fields. Here—good dirt. Water close."
One of the hunters grunted, eyeing the plan. "Hunt still good? If stay, not scare food away?"
Athan hesitated, then pointed toward the nearby forested area. "Hunt there for now. Not need go far. And..." He tapped the field marker. "Food here too. Not just hunt."
There was a moment of silence as the men considered his words. Lara, who had been listening from the side, finally spoke. "More food is good. Less hunger if hunt not good."
A few of the men exchanged looks before Yun finally nodded in approval. "We try."
Athan exhaled, feeling his shoulders relax slightly. This was a step forward.
Wade pointed at the logs that had been carved into a U-shape. "That?" he asked, his gaze shifting toward Athan.
Athan nodded and pointed at a section on the plan. "Here. This brings water from the waterfall, so the field gets water too. Seeds grow into plants, and we eat the fruit."
Wade nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the drawing. After a moment, he pointed to the rectangular shape a little distance from the fire. "What that?"
The boy grinned and replied, "That house. No rain on head, no wind to make us cold. Warm. Good place for babies."
Seeing that the men didn't fully understand his explanation but remained intrigued, Athan hurried off and gathered a bundle of small branches, pieces of bark, and leaves. Using a large piece of bark, he crafted a simple floor. Then, he planted the small branches upright into the ground to represent walls and draped leaves over them to form a roof. Leaving one side open to symbolize a doorway, he stepped back, letting the men take in the small-scale model.
To demonstrate further, Athan took his waterskin and let a few drops of water fall onto the leaf-covered roof, showing how the water slid off without soaking the inside.
The men stared, mouths slightly agape at the boy's demonstration. One of the hunters finally broke the silence, shaking his head. "House too small..."
Athan, slightly exasperated, pointed toward the large logs set aside to dry. "We use this for house. Make big house. Each family have house, so clan have lot babies. With field, we make lot food. With river trap, lot fish. We eat, we build, we live good. Clan bigger, clan stronger"
The gathered men exchanged glances, considering his words. The realization slowly dawned on them—Athan wasn't just talking about a single shelter. He was envisioning a future where the clan no longer had to wander, where they could stay, grow, and thrive.
Some men still had doubts. "That lot of change... me afraid we fail," one muttered, his voice filled with hesitation.
Wade lifted his head and spoke with calm certainty. "This plan good. And if fail, we still go other place, like before."
Just like that, Wade's words made them realize it was worth a try. Even if they failed, they could always return to their old ways.
After that, Athan explained his ideas for communal baths and a shared toilet area. The men were less interested in these concepts, but they still showed willingness to explore the boy's suggestions.
At that moment, Lara called out to the tribe, announcing that it was time to eat.
The others slowly dispersed, leaving the natural circle that had formed around Athan and his plan to retrieve their bowls for the meal. Wade placed a firm hand on his son's shoulder as the boy carefully rolled up the village plan, treating it with the same care as one would a sacred object.
Athan looked up, sensing the weight of his father's gaze. Wade's eyes swept over the tribe, observing each member before returning to meet his son's questioning expression.
"This our clan. This our family. When you grow up, you be the one to guide. You protect. You make strong. That your duty."
His father's voice was firm, his words measured. Each point was emphasized with unwavering seriousness, his eyes locked onto Athan's, ensuring that the boy understood the responsibility that would one day rest upon his shoulders.
Athan had not expected such a speech, and he felt his heart tighten. He was going to turn six in the coming months, and hearing that he would one day bear the responsibility for the entire clan and their future was a heavy burden for a child. Even with the memories of his past life, the weight of such an expectation felt overwhelming.
Seeing his son grow nervous, Wade's gaze softened. A rare smile crossed his face as he placed a reassuring hand on Athan's shoulder. "Continue what you do. You do good. Don't Forget, You child, can play. Just stay safe. We protect you."
The boy smiled slightly at his father, feeling a small sense of relief. Leaving the plan on his bedding, he joined the others in collecting their bowls and lining up to receive their meal.
As he waited for his turn, he noticed that more and more people were now wearing shoes, though many still seemed unaccustomed to having their feet covered instead of feeling the earth directly beneath them.
Ok seemed to be doing good work, crafting shoes that fit well enough. With more people having their soles protected, the risk of foot injuries would decrease, making the tribe more mobile and active. The change, though small, would have a lasting impact on their daily lives.
Turning his attention to Lara, who was now in charge of preparing the meals and tending the fire, Athan noticed how she had grown into her role. The girl seemed to take great pride in the fact that the clan enjoyed the food she made. The simple recipe Athan had shown her had quickly become the best meal the tribe had known so far, and she carried that success with immense pride. Nourishing the clan, providing them with warmth and sustenance, gave her a sense of fulfillment, and it showed in the way she worked with confidence and dedication.
Smiling at Athan, who was watching her, Lara continued serving the various members of the clan, ladling out rabbit stew with cooked roots that had simmered throughout the day. The fish would be saved for the next day's soup, while the birds hunted earlier would accompany tonight's meal.
When it was Athan's turn, he took his portion and sat down not far from the fire. Taking a careful sip of the soup, he found it delicious. He didn't recognize some of the herbs that had been used to enhance the broth, but since the clan had eaten them before, he assumed they were safe.
Lowering his bowl, he looked at Lara with a smile. "This is really delicious."
Lara, blushing at the compliment, returned his smile and murmured a shy, "Thank you."
His father, watching the exchange, smiled mischievously. "Yes, Lara would make a good woman to have," he said with a knowing wink at the boy. A ripple of chuckles spread among the men, their laughter deep and amused, but it quickly faded as they noticed the sharp glares from the women. Some of the men cleared their throats awkwardly, shifting their weight uncomfortably, while others suddenly found great interest in their food. Wade, unbothered, smirked and took a slow bite of his meal, clearly enjoying the playful tension he had stirred in the group.
The boy focused on his food, his thoughts lingering on what he had known for some time—Lara was the only woman in the group without a partner, also being the youngest at around sixteen years old. The clan did not practice strict monogamy; with too few males, such a system was not feasible. However, once a family was formed, it remained intact until the man's death.
This was largely because men often took on the most dangerous tasks, such as retrieving water from rivers teeming with aquatic predators or defending against jungle threats. Their lives were far riskier, while the women took on the responsibility of managing the community, ensuring its stability and survival.
At first, Athan had believed his father to be the sole leader of the clan, the one in charge of everything. But over time, his perspective shifted. He came to realize that while Wade gave orders in moments of danger, the true authority—the one who determined the clan's direction and long-term decisions—was his mother. She was the Matriarch of the clan, the one who ensured their continued existence. The boy made a mental note, to discuss the plan he had put on paper to his mother, before going to bed.
Athan glanced at Lara, who was fidgeting in place after his father's comment, her face flushed a deep crimson. He observed her for a moment, considering the unspoken future. Perhaps one day, she would be his, given that he was the only male child in the clan. The thought made his cheeks warm slightly, but they were not there yet. There was still time.
Looking at her again, he spoke softly, "Don't worry about what Father said... even if it is true." His tone was reassuring, hoping to ease her embarrassment before he returned his focus to his meal.
He finished his bowl of broth, lowering it with a quiet sigh of relief. A warm meal after a long day of work always felt satisfying. The rich flavors lingered on his tongue, and the warmth spread through his body, easing the exhaustion that had settled into his muscles. However, as he glanced up, he realized the entire group had gone quiet, their gazes fixed on him.
Lara, if possible, seemed even more shy than before, her hands gripping her bowl tightly as she stared down at it, refusing to meet his eye. A few of the older women exchanged amused glances, whispering among themselves, while some of the men smirked, nudging each other playfully. Every members of the tribe seemed to sense that something was happening, their curious eyes flicking between Athan and Lara.
Athan felt a slight heat creep up his neck. He wasn't sure what to do, so he simply cleared his throat and shifted in place. The attention felt overwhelming, but he forced himself to remain composed. Letting out a small breath, he turned back to his meal, pretending not to notice the silent teasing lingering in the air.
Deciding not to pay attention to the lingering stares, Athan quietly stood up and carried his bowl away from the group to wash it. Once finished, he retrieved the village plan from his bedding, intending to discuss it with his mother.
Athan showed the plan to his mother, who smiled warmly at him, explaining that she had found it on the stone and brought it back to his bedding to ensure he wouldn't lose his work.
Curious, Athan asked if she had looked at it. She nodded, admitting that she had studied it but hadn't fully understood everything. She traced her fingers along the lines, comparing them to the original sketch he had once drawn in the dirt, tilting her head slightly as if trying to piece the information together.
Noticing her curiosity, Athan grinned and leaned in, pointing to various sections of the plan with enthusiasm. His voice carried an undertone of pride as he began explaining the new additions in simple words, making sure his mother could follow along. He gestured toward different areas of the map, using his hands to mimic walls, structures, and pathways, making the vision in his head more tangible for her. As he spoke, his mother's eyes flickered between the parchment and her son's eager expression, the warmth in her gaze growing.
His mother listened attentively, pleased by the inclusion of the defensive wall, the cultivated field, and the houses they planned to build. As Athan explained, she nodded along, her fingers occasionally tracing the markings on the plan as she visualized the changes. The idea of a sturdy wall surrounding their settlement would brought them a sense of security, and the thought of a stable food supply from the cultivated field was reassuring. The concept of permanent homes intrigued her the most, as it signified a shift from a transient way of life to something more stable.
These elements made sense to her, as they had discussed them in previous sessions when Athan had been trying to improve her understanding of more complex concepts. She remembered those late evenings when he had drawn diagrams in the dirt, using stones and sticks to demonstrate ideas, his small hands moving with confidence beyond his years. Now, seeing it all laid out in detail on a proper plan, she began to truly grasp the scope of her son's vision.
However, when Athan mentioned the future communal baths and toilets, her expression shifted to surprise and delight. She straightened, her fingers pausing over the plan as if she needed to confirm what she had just heard. As a woman, maintaining cleanliness and avoiding bad odors had always been a priority for her, and she knew the same was true for the other women in the tribe. Even though they never truly could bathe, until now, they made do with a little water and sometimes rubbed their limbs with wildflowers they had gathered here and there.
The idea of a designated place for hygiene struck her as particularly valuable, a concept that could change their daily lives in ways she hadn't considered before. No longer would they need to trek far from camp to find a private place to clean or relieve themselves, constantly wary of predators or prying eyes. The mere thought of it brought a rare sense of relief, one she hadn't realized she needed.
She looked at Athan, her gaze filled with something more than pride—it was gratitude. This was not just about survival or protection; it was about comfort, dignity, and progress. For the first time, Athan saw genuine excitement light up her face at the prospect of such an innovation for the tribe, and he knew, at that moment, he had truly convinced her of his vision.
Asking his mother if she thought certain tasks should be prioritized, she took a moment to reflect. "Wall comes first," she said firmly. "Without protection, tribe won't last."
Ensuring she understood correctly, Athan added, "The fields need time to produce food in abundance," to which his mother nodded in confirmation. "So, fields come next," she continued. "Then, we build houses. Staying under trees when it rains is a bother, and drying pelts takes too long."
She then glanced back at the plan, considering one more thing. "Toilets come first before baths. Staying healthy is more important than comfort."
With a clear plan set, mother and son confirmed the roadmap for the coming days, possibly even months. The clan would continue working at full speed to build the protective wall while Athan advanced his farming efforts. Once the wall was completed, they would begin constructing houses for the tribe members.
Satisfied with the discussion, Athan's mother gently closed the village plan. She pulled him close, and together, they watched the rest of the clan, their laughter and conversations filling the night air. Athan felt a deep sense of satisfaction. As the evening stretched on, he sat beside his mother, silently observing their people until it was time to sleep.