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Athan woke the next morning feeling completely out of sorts. His body was heavy with exhaustion, his limbs sluggish as he sat up from his bedding. The night had been anything but restful. He had tossed and turned for hours, his mind refusing to settle after the conversation with Lara.
The weight of her words still lingered, pressing on his thoughts no matter how much he tried to push them aside. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind replayed the way she had looked at him, the emotions in her voice, the way she had accepted his answer without argument. And then there were the sounds from the forest—low murmurs, rustling leaves, and occasional noises that made his stomach twist uncomfortably. They had carried on deep into the night, making it impossible for him to drift into a peaceful sleep.
Rubbing his face, he sighed heavily before forcing himself to his feet. His body ached from the lack of rest, and his mind felt sluggish. He stretched his arms over his head, hoping to shake off the stiffness, but the exhaustion remained.
Glancing around, he noticed that the rest of the tribe was still asleep, their heavy slumber a stark contrast to his own restless night. The only one awake was Lara, tending to the fire as she usually did in the mornings. The sight of her made his stomach clench, and he quickly looked away, unsure of how to face her after last night.
Still, there was work to do. Whether he was rested or not, the tribe needed him. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath and stepped forward, ready to face the day ahead.
Getting up, the boy made his way to check the fields. The soil was still damp, confirming that the irrigation system had worked well overnight. However, something new had appeared in Field 2—a small sprout had broken through the soil.
The boy went back to his bedding, grabbing his notebook. As he walked toward Field 2, he flipped through the pages, checking his previous notes. Counting the days since he had planted the seeds, he realized that exactly seven days had passed. He ran his fingers over the fresh sprout, his heart filling with excitement. It was proof that his efforts were paying off, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride.
Checking every other field carefully before returning to Field 2, Athan sat on the ground, taking a moment to record his observations. He noted that the seed in Field 2 had taken exactly seven days to sprout, making this an important reference for future plantings.
Satisfied with his notes, he returned to his bedding to store the notebook safely before heading to the stream to wash his hands, splashing cold water on his face to fully wake up. The refreshing sensation helped clear some of the fatigue from his restless night.
With his mind now focused, he walked over to inspect the two wooden doors he had crafted, still lying on the ground, waiting to be installed. Running his fingers over the smooth wood, he mentally planned his next steps.
Since the trench was still present, the boy took careful measurements using wooden markers. Selecting a log of the right dimensions, he stripped away the bark, ensuring a smooth surface before marking precise spots for the door's pivot points. Taking into account the door's size and structure, he began carving holes into the log, making sure they would fit the pivots securely when installed.
His movements were steady despite the lingering fatigue from his restless night. Every cut had to be precise—too deep, and the pivot would be loose; too shallow, and it wouldn't turn properly. The rhythmic scraping of his knife against the wood filled the air, each motion methodical as he focused entirely on his task. As he worked, he occasionally paused to check his measurements, making small adjustments to ensure everything aligned perfectly. This was an important step, and he couldn't afford mistakes.
Completely absorbed in his task, Athan paid no attention to his surroundings, his entire focus locked onto shaping the wood correctly. The rhythmic scraping of his knife against the surface filled the quiet morning air, each precise cut smoothing the edges of the frame. He adjusted his grip, carefully working the pivot slots, unaware of anything else around him.
It wasn't until a voice broke the silence that he realized he was no longer alone.
"What you do?" a familiar voice asked.
Athan flinched slightly at the sudden interruption, his knife pausing mid-cut. He snapped his head up, his eyes landing on Lara, who stood nearby, watching him with curiosity. A soft, amused smile played on her lips, her emerald eyes flicking between his hands and the wooden frame in front of him. She tilted her head slightly, intrigued by what he was building, the morning sunlight casting a warm glow over her face as she stepped closer.
The boy trembled slightly, his face turning red as he looked at her. He hesitated before showing her the pivot slot he was carving. "This go here, so door can open and close," he explained, his voice a bit unsteady.
Lara stepped closer, tilting her head as she examined his work. "So, this door?" she asked, her fingers brushing lightly over the wood. She ran her hand along the smooth surface, nodding slightly as if trying to understand the mechanics.
Athan nodded, avoiding her gaze for too long. His grip on the knife tightened slightly, the awkwardness of the moment settling between them. He cleared his throat and resumed carving, his strokes more deliberate now, using the motion as a way to ground himself. The air felt heavier, charged with something unsaid. He could still feel Lara's presence close to him, watching, curious, lingering in a way that made him unsure how to react.
He didn't know how to face her right now, not after last night's conversation. But for now, the work gave him an excuse to focus on something else.
Lara stood silently for a moment, watching Athan's careful movements as he carved. Then, after a brief hesitation, she reached for a knife of her own, her fingers wrapping around the handle with quiet determination. Kneeling beside him, she began carving the other side of the log where the boy had marked the spot for the next slot, mimicking his actions as best as she could.
Sensing movement beside him, Athan glanced up and saw her trying her best to help. He raised an eyebrow, watching her hands carefully. She was focused, her brows slightly furrowed, her lips pressing together in concentration. Each stroke was slow, uncertain at first, but she didn't stop.
Adjusting his position, Athan held his piece against the pivot to check if the slot was shaping correctly. As he did, he noticed Lara stealing glances at him, studying his method before returning to her own work. She was imitating him, carefully observing his every move, doing her best to replicate it.
Her strokes remained hesitant at first, the motion unfamiliar, but with each attempt, her confidence grew. The rough cuts became smoother, the shape of her slot slowly taking form. Athan allowed a small smirk to tug at his lips. She was learning quickly, and she was determined.
For a while, they worked side by side in silence, the rhythmic sound of carving filling the space between them. The tension from before lingered, unspoken yet undeniable, but neither of them acknowledged it. Instead, they let the work speak for itself, their quiet collaboration bridging the gap between them.
Seeing her determination, Athan paused for a brief moment. "Here, like this," he said, demonstrating a smoother carving technique. He guided her hand briefly, showing her how to apply even pressure with each stroke. Lara nodded and adjusted her grip, following his lead with newfound confidence.
The quiet rhythm of their carving filled the air, the soft scraping of wood against blade blending with the natural sounds of the village. The awkwardness from earlier seemed to fade, replaced by the simple act of working together. They didn't need words—just the shared effort of creating something with their hands.
About twenty minutes later, the slot Athan was carving had reached the right size. He then stopped Lara before rolling the log to fit it around the pivot points of the door, adjusting it slightly to make sure it aligned properly. Running his fingers along the edges, he tested its movement before stepping back, satisfied with his work.
Glancing at Lara, he caught her watching him intently, her emerald eyes filled with determination. Encouraged by his actions, she carefully tested the slot she had been working on, her fingers running along the edges as she checked its fit against the pivot. Her movements were slower, more deliberate, as she tried to replicate Athan's precision.
Her lips pressed together in concentration as she adjusted the piece, shifting it slightly before stepping back to assess her work. When she saw that her slot was aligning correctly, a deep sense of pride swelled in her chest. She had done it—she was truly helping Athan, not just watching.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and for a moment, she forgot about everything else. This wasn't just about the door; it was about proving to herself that she could do more, that she could stand beside him and be useful in ways she never had before.
The boy, seeing her determination, simply smiled to himself and continued carving the other log after taking careful measurements. Side by side, they worked in quiet concentration, their hands moving steadily over the wood, the soft scraping sounds blending into the tranquil morning air. The tension between them from earlier had faded, replaced by an unspoken understanding as they worked together toward their shared goal.
Once Athan had completed his piece, he set his knife down and stretched his fingers, feeling the ache from the precise carving. He glanced at Lara, who was still focused on her task, her hands steady as she refined her own work. He appreciated the help more than he could express and turned to her with a small, genuine smile. "Thank you," he said simply.
Lara met his gaze and returned the smile, a quiet satisfaction in her expression. "Good work," she replied before standing up, brushing off the wood shavings from her hands. She gave him a final nod with smile before returning to tend the fire, leaving Athan to his next task.
Now that the pieces were ready, Athan took the floor beam and rolled it toward the open door frame in the wall. Since the trench was still in place where the door would be installed, he had the advantage of clearly seeing how the pieces would fit together. He carefully positioned the beam, checking its alignment, his mind already planning the next steps to secure it properly.
Using the wheelbarrow, he made his way to the cliff, carefully selecting sturdy rocks before loading them in and transporting them back to the trench where he was working. Once there, he began positioning the rocks, layering them with packed earth to ensure a solid foundation. With precise movements, he pressed them firmly into place, securing the log that would become the base of the door.
Once satisfied with the stability of his work, he wiped the sweat from his brow and stretched his back, feeling the strain of the morning's effort. With the task complete, he made his way back toward the fire, where the adults had begun to stir, the quiet hum of conversation slowly filling the air as the village woke to another day.
Most of the men had a pale, exhausted look, their fatigue evident. His father was the only one who still seemed in relatively good shape. Athan shook his head, suppressing a quiet laugh so as not to draw attention to himself. Having read many books glorifying harems in his past life, he found it amusing that most of the men in the tribe—who had likely thought they were living a dream—were now on the verge of collapse after just two days of activity with two or three women at their sides.
In the stories, protagonists always seemed to have limitless stamina, defying all logic. But in reality, satisfying multiple women to their content and doing so repeatedly was no easy feat. Even for men as physically fit as those in the tribe, endurance had its limits.
Hiding his amusement, the boy went to find his father, as the other men seemed to need a moment to recover. He asked for his help to lift the doors, leading his father toward the spot where they lay on the ground.
Wade eyed the wooden panels curiously, clearly wondering how they would be used. Without asking further, he bent down, grabbed one of the doors, and followed Athan to the wall where the frame had been set. Once they placed the door near the entrance, Athan gestured for him to retrieve the second door and the upper frame section. Without hesitation, his father complied, moving with the quiet efficiency that Athan had come to admire.
Once all the pieces were in place, the boy asked his father to install the door, fitting its pivot into the base slot. He then gestured toward the upper pivot point, pointing at the small protrusion above the door frame where the other slot would rest. His father put his hand on it following his instructions without question.
Athan carefully opened and closed the door, observing the way the pivot functioned, ensuring it rotated smoothly without resistance. Satisfied with the motion, he nodded to himself before looking up and noticing several men approaching, ready to resume their work. He quickly intercepted them, requesting their assistance with the next step.
With their help, they installed the second door and then lifted the horizontal beam that would sit above the frame. Athan took precise measurements, making sure that the top of the doorway would be secure the pivot resting inside the slot without probleme. He planned to carve the beam edge into half-moon shape so that it could simply be lowered into place, resting firmly on either side of the door beam for added stability. Of course, he would also tie it down afterward to ensure it would not shift or fall.
Once the doors were temporarily removed from their supports, the men returned to their usual work, while Athan remained behind, focused on carving the top beam to fit perfectly into place.
After about an hour, the boy was finally satisfied. He made one last careful adjustment to the lower and upper beams, ensuring that the door could only be opened inward. Every cut was precise, making sure the pivots rested securely in their slots.
Once he was sure everything was ready, he called the men back to help. Together, they carefully set the doors into place, Athan making small adjustments as needed to ensure a perfect fit. The wooden panels now stood firmly in the entrance, marking the completion of a crucial step in securing the settlement. Two men began to tie it in place to the wall making sur it would not budge from there. Testing the door opening and closing them making sur nothing felt out of place.
Stepping back, Athan examined their work, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment. The doors were now properly installed, but one final issue remained—he needed to figure out a way to lock them at night. His mind was already racing with possible solutions as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, knowing that securing the door to the village would be his next challenge.
Thinking about it, for now, without iron, he couldn't make truly solid pieces. So he opted for another approach. Returning to the pile of branches and logs, he searched for two pieces in the shape of an L. After a moment, he found two, though they were slightly too thick for the use he intended.
He set to work trimming them down, ensuring that their structural integrity remained intact. Once they were of the proper thickness, he grabbed his bow drill. Examining the drill stone, he decided to swap it for one that matched the size of the branches he was working with.
Glancing around, Athan noticed Lara tending the fire. She seemed like the best person to assist him at the moment.
Wanting her help once more, he approached. Lara, happy to be useful, added a log to the fire before following him.
"I need you to hold this steady while I use the bow drill,"Â Athan explained, gesturing to the piece of wood. "It has to be straight, or the hole won't be clean."
Lara nodded, stepping closer and placing her hands firmly on the drill piece. "Like this?"
Athan checked her grip before giving a small nod. "Yeah, just keep it steady. I'll do the rest."
Setting the bow against the drill, he began moving it back and forth. The friction built slowly, a faint wisp of smoke rising as the wood started giving way. The process was slow, and working at this angle made it even harder.
"This take long?"Â Lara asked, watching as Athan continued, sweat forming on his brow.
"Yeah, it's slow,"Â he admitted, adjusting his stance. "But once we get through this side, we'll do the same on the other log. Then the locking bar can fit in place."
Lara's grip tightened slightly. "I hold strong. You work faster."
Athan smirked. "Alright, let's try."
With renewed effort, he worked the drill with more force. After a long struggle, the drill finally pierced through the log on the right side of the door. Both of them leaned back, taking a moment to breathe.
Athan wiped his brow, feeling the strain in his arms, while Lara flexed her fingers, sore from holding the wood in place.
"One down,"Â Athan said, exhaling. "We take a short break, then do the next one."
Lara glanced at the hole they had made and gave a small nod. "Good. Then door lock at night. Safe."
Athan looked at her, surprised by her thoughtfulness. "Yeah… exactly."
They took a short break, drinking some water before moving on to the second hole on the opposite log, now more accustomed to the difficulty of drilling at this angle. They resumed their work with renewed determination.
Taking their time, making sure to do the best job possible, the drill finally broke through the other side. Both of them let out a sigh of relief, sitting down to catch their breath.
Athan wiped the sweat from his forehead before turning to Lara. "Thanks for your help,"Â he said sincerely.
Lara shrugged slightly but offered a small smile. "I like help. You do much. Now I do too."
Athan chuckled, leaning back on his hands. "Yeah, but I feel bad. You've been helping me a lot today. I haven't done much for you in a while."
Lara tilted her head, thinking. "You make village safe. That help."
Athan glanced at her, surprised by her straightforward answer. She wasn't looking for anything in return—she just wanted to help.
Standing up, she brushed the dust from her hands. "I go check fish trap. Maybe fish for soup."
Athan nodded, watching as she walked toward the river, her steps moving with purpose. As she disappeared into the distance, he let out a breath and turned his focus back to his work.
Shaking off his thoughts, he grabbed the L-shaped branch, ensuring the smaller part faced upward, and began inserting it into place, determined to finish the locking mechanism as soon as he could.
Taking his wooden mallet, Athan began tapping the L-shaped piece into place, ensuring it protruded slightly on the other side. He worked carefully, checking the alignment as he hammered. Once the L on the inside of the village extended about six centimeters from the log, he stopped and repeated the process on the opposite side of the door.
Switching to the other side, he took his knife and carefully cut the excess length protruding from the log, ensuring the L pieces remained firm and locked into position. Using the same method he had applied with his hammer, he secured them tightly, making sure they wouldn't shift.
With the locking pivots now in place, all that remained was to take a long wooden plank, thinner than six centimeters, and position it across the door to keep it securely closed at night.
Athan picked up a plank, measuring its width against the slots he had carved, his mind already picturing the final step of the locking mechanism.
He checked the wooden planks he had already prepared and found one that fit. Dragging it over to the entrance, he felt a presence. Wade. Watching.
Without a word, the man stepped forward to assist him.
Athan gestured toward the L-shaped pieces on either side of the door. "Put it here," he instructed, positioning the plank across them. "This keeps door shut."
Wade followed his lead, setting the plank down and testing its stability. He pressed against it slightly, checking that it wouldn't budge.
Satisfied, he gave Athan a firm pat on the shoulder.
"Good,"Â he said simply before turning back to his own work.
With the doors now fully secured, Athan glanced toward the nearly completed wall. Thanks to everyone's efforts, the fortification would soon extend all the way to the river. Their security was improving—at least, as long as no animal decided to brave the water to bypass the barrier.Â
The boy had some thoughts about utilizing the forest on the other side of the river, but for now, they would be able to stay where they were without any major issues—at least until their homes were fully constructed.
But before that, Athan had a small project in mind. Gathering his tools into the wheelbarrow, he walked toward the area where he had previously cut logs. Selecting a small piece of wood, he carried it over to a spot near the fields and sat down. As he settled, his eyes caught sight of more seedlings breaking through the surface in Field 2. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips—proof that their efforts were bearing fruit.
Setting his focus back on the wood in his hands, he began carving, his knife gliding across the surface with careful precision. Every movement was deliberate, each cut shaping the object he envisioned.
Putting a lot of thought into it, he carved each line with precision. Once the basic object was shaped, he began decorating it with floral designs on each side before adding some flame pattern to the mix, making it far more beautiful than just a simple functional piece.
After finishing the carvings, he started a small fire near the field, carefully using the flames to smooth the edges and remove any splinters. The heat darkened the details slightly, giving the piece a more refined appearance.
Once satisfied, he cleaned the object, rubbing away any excess soot. An idea struck him—he could use fresh tree sap to give the wood a polished finish. He retrieved a small amount of sap from a freshly cut tree, passing by one of the men who was in the process of chopping wood. The man gave him a curious glance but continued his work as Athan quickly moved on.
Returning to his spot, Athan used a piece of leather to rub the sap over the wood's surface in circular motions, ensuring an even coat. The natural resin seeped into the grain, giving the object a subtle, waxed sheen that enhanced both its beauty and durability.
Satisfied with his work, the boy activated the watering system, carefully monitoring the flow to ensure that each section of the field received enough moisture. He adjusted the channels slightly, making sure no water was wasted and that the soil remained evenly damp.
Once he was certain everything was running smoothly, he knelt by the water source, rinsing his hands thoroughly before splashing cool water onto his face, letting the sensation refresh him. The morning sun was already climbing higher, and he could feel its warmth starting to press down on him.
Feeling more awake, he retrieved his slingshot from his pouch, gripping the familiar wooden frame in his hands. Stepping a few paces away from the field, he picked up a few small stones and took aim at a distant tree. He pulled the band back, feeling the tension before releasing—his shot flying off to the side, missing the target completely.
Frowning, he narrowed his eyes and adjusted his stance before trying again. The second shot was closer, but still not quite on target. Practicing with the slingshot had become a necessary routine for him. If he could improve his accuracy, he might be able to defend the fields better from birds and small animals.
He spent several minutes honing his aim, gradually improving with each attempt. Once he felt satisfied with his progress, he closed the watering system, ensuring that no excess water was left flowing, and turned back toward the village, ready to continue with the day's tasks.
After that, returning near the fire, Athan noticed a group of hunters standing nearby, their expressions filled with frustration, while the workers on the wall seemed to be grinning to themselves.
Curious, he approached, catching bits of conversation as he neared.
"We come back… hunt… wall close," one of the hunters muttered, crossing his arms. "No way inside. Wade open for us."
Hearing this, Athan's lips curled slightly in amusement, though he tried to suppress it. At least he now knew the doors were working exactly as intended.
If they could keep the hunters out, they would certainly keep other unwanted visitors from entering as well.
Satisfied, he turned away, making his way toward the food line where the evening meal was being served. As he approached, he spotted Lara distributing bowls of steaming soup.
When his turn came, he accepted the bowl from her hands with a small nod. "Thanks."
Lara met his gaze briefly, her lips curling into a faint smile before she turned to serve the next person. Athan carried his bowl to a nearby spot, settling down on the ground as the warmth of the meal seeped through his fingers. Letting out a breath, he took his first sip, letting the rich flavors soothe both his exhaustion and his thoughts. The day had been long, but progress was being made, and that was enough to satisfy him for now.
Then came the evening's study of the alphabet. As the lesson progressed, one of the women in the group suddenly suggested that the men should sing. Athan immediately refused for the night, not wanting to relive the awkwardness of the previous evening.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a few of the men subtly exhaling in relief, their shoulders relaxing at his decision. Internally chuckling at their reaction, he turned his attention toward Lara. She, too, seemed relieved, her posture easing as she avoided looking toward the others.
Amused, Athan quietly approached her, curious if she had been just as eager to avoid another round of singing. But before speaking, he reached inside his clothes and pulled out the small object he had spent the afternoon carving. It was wrapped carefully in a large tree leaf, secured neatly around it.
"Here... it's for you," he said, his voice slightly hesitant as he extended the gift toward her, feeling a bit shy about the gesture.
The young girl, surprised, took the object in her hands, looking at it curiously before glancing at Athan. "What... this?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.
The boy simply gestured for her to open the package. "Open it, you see," he replied.
Lara hesitated for a moment, then carefully peeled away the large tree leaf, revealing the item inside.
The movement caught the attention of the nearby women and a few curious men, their gazes shifting toward Lara as she uncovered the gift. Inside was a finely carved wooden comb, its surface darkened to a deep, rich hue by the layer of tree sap that had been used as a natural polish. The polished wood reflected the flickering firelight, giving it an almost ethereal glow.
Lara's eyes widened, her lips parting slightly in astonishment. The details of the carving were delicate, precise—an intricate pattern adorning the handle. The craftsmanship was unlike anything she had seen before, and she held the comb with a mix of awe and hesitation.
Yet, despite its beauty, she was unsure of its purpose. Turning to Athan, her brow furrowed slightly in silent question.
Seeing her confusion, the boy extended a hand toward her with a small smile, ready to demonstrate.
The young woman placed the comb in his outstretched hand, and the boy closed his fingers around it before gently reaching for a few strands of her hair. Carefully, he ran the comb through her hair, demonstrating its use as he spoke.
"This... called comb," he said slowly, his words measured. "It go through hair... like this. Make straight, help remove knots... knots come natural."
As he withdrew his hand, stepping back slightly, Lara remained still, her lips slightly parted in amazement. She reached up hesitantly, running her fingers through the section of hair he had just combed, feeling how smooth it had become. The strands separated easily, free of tangles, and she glanced back at Athan, her emerald eyes reflecting the flickering firelight.
"It... soft," she murmured, her fingers tracing over the fine lines of the comb once more as the boy handed it back to her. She turned it over in her hands, admiring the craftsmanship, before looking back at him. "You make?"
Athan nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward under her gaze. "Yeah. Thought... help."
Lara's lips pressed together as she looked down at the comb again, as if committing every detail to memory. She traced the carvings with her fingers, feeling the smooth grooves and ridges, before letting out a small breath. Then, with a soft smile, one that carried warmth and quiet gratitude, she lifted her gaze to meet his. "Good. Like."
Athan exhaled, realizing only now that he had been holding his breath. He hadn't expected such a warm reaction, and for a moment, he felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest—something light, something... satisfying.
"It's a small thanks for all the help you've been giving me until now," he said with a smile, his voice carrying a hint of warmth.
As he glanced to the side, he noticed the other women of the clan now fixated on the object in Lara's hands. Their eyes flickered between the comb and Athan, curiosity and envy clear on their faces. Some whispered among themselves, while others simply observed in silence.
Realizing he might be asked to make more, Athan quickly decided to retreat before any requests could be made. Without another word, he turned and swiftly left the scene, leaving Lara standing there, her fingers still wrapped around the comb.
Her heart beat faster than before, a warmth spreading through her chest. Her fingers tightened slightly around the comb, but her mind was no longer focused on the object. Instead, it lingered on the boy who had given it to her—the way he had carefully crafted it, the slight nervousness in his voice when he handed it to her, and the warmth in his eyes when he saw her reaction. She had never received something so personal before, something made just for her. It was a simple gesture, yet it carried a weight she couldn't quite describe, one that left her feeling both flustered and oddly comforted.