Chapter 21 - Chapter 20 - Shaping Tradition

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Athan woke up the next morning to the faint glow of dawn creeping over the horizon. Stretching his arms, he pushed himself up from his bedding, shaking off the lingering drowsiness. His first instinct was to check on the fields. As he approached, his gaze swept over the young crops, their leaves slightly curled, a sign that they hadn't received water overnight. A quiet sigh escaped him as he realized he had forgotten to activate the watering system the previous evening. Without hesitation, he turned the mechanism on, listening to the soft gurgle of water as it began flowing through the irrigation channels.

With the system running, he walked over to the riverbank and scooped up handfuls of cool water, splashing it over his face. The morning air was crisp, refreshing against his skin. A few moments later, he heard light footsteps approaching. Turning his head, he saw Lara coming to join him, rubbing her eyes slightly before crouching beside him. Without a word, she cupped water in her hands, mirroring his actions as she washed her face. Her quiet presence was a familiar comfort, and they worked side by side in a peaceful rhythm.

Once the fields were properly soaked, Athan straightened up, stretching his arms over his head. The morning mist was beginning to lift, and the golden light of the rising sun reflected off the water's surface. Turning his attention to the edges of the waterfall basin, he made his way toward the rocky embankment, already planning the next steps of his day.

Inspecting the area, he noticed that the banks were densely packed with smooth river stones, some partially buried in the moist earth. If there was clay or sand beneath them, it would require significant effort to unearth. He crouched, running his fingers over the pebbles, feeling their cool, damp surface. The variety of stones intrigued him—some were light gray, others a deeper brown, worn smooth from years of water flow. He picked up a few, rolling them in his palm before tossing them back. If he wanted clay, he would have to dig through layers of these stones first.

Deciding to postpone that task for now, he began following the river downstream from the waterfall, pausing occasionally to check the soil composition. He crouched down every so often, pressing his fingers into the earth, testing its texture and moisture content. Some areas were packed with loamy soil, good for planting, but not what he was searching for.

Eventually, his patience paid off—he stumbled upon a patch of clay, its dull, grayish-brown color distinct from the surrounding earth. He dug his fingers into it, feeling its malleability, and nodded in satisfaction. This was exactly what he needed. Making a mental note of the location, he stood and dusted his hands off, eyes scanning further down the river.

Continuing his walk, he soon passed the area where the fish trap had been set. The gentle gurgling of water filled the air as he followed the winding current. A little farther ahead, the terrain shifted slightly, and he found himself at a natural bend in the river where the current had slowed. The ground here was different—softer beneath his feet, and as he knelt down, he scooped up a handful of fine, damp grains. Sand. His lips curled into a pleased smile. This was an even better find than he expected. Both resources—clay and sand—were within reach inside the walls of the soon to be village, making his next steps significantly easier.

Feeling pleased with his findings, Athan hurried back to retrieve his wheelbarrow and decided to start with the sand. He dug into the ground, using his hoe to break apart the compacted surface before dragging the loose grains into manageable piles. The sun had begun its slow ascent, casting a warm golden hue over the riverbank as beads of sweat formed on his brow. The rhythmic sound of the hoe scraping through the sand filled the air, accompanied by the occasional splash of water as the damp grains shifted under his weight.

Lara, who had followed him throughout his exploration, eagerly joined in, her sleeves rolled up as she knelt beside him. She scooped sand into the wheelbarrow with her hands at first, enjoying the texture before switching to a piece of bark to make it easier. Her movements, though less practiced than Athan's, were quick and determined. Together, they developed a steady rhythm—Athan using his hoe to break up the compacted sand and drag it into piles, while Lara gathered the loosened grains and carefully distributed them in the wheelbarrow. She worked with quiet focus, glancing occasionally at Athan for confirmation that she was doing it right.

After filling it to a manageable level, Athan grasped the handles and began pushing the load toward the growing stockpile near the waterfall. The terrain was uneven, forcing him to navigate carefully, but his steady pace ensured the job was done without spilling too much. By the time he returned for another load, Lara had already started loosening more sand, making their work faster. Their combined efforts gradually formed a substantial mound, a promising resource that would be vital for the next stage of construction.

As the pile grew, Athan took a step back, gripping his hoe with both hands as he observed their progress. The morning light glimmered on the grains, giving the pile an almost golden sheen. He exhaled slowly, pleased with the steady pace they had established. This was only the beginning, but with Lara's help, he was confident they could gather everything they needed in record time.

After twenty trips with the wheelbarrow, Athan decided they had gathered enough sand for now. His arms ached slightly from the repetitive hauling, but seeing the growing stockpile near the waterfall filled him with satisfaction. He wiped the sweat from his brow, exchanging a glance with Lara, who, despite the effort, seemed just as determined as he was.

Without wasting time, Athan turned to the clay deposit he had found earlier that morning. The thick, sticky earth looked like it would be perfect for their needs. He motioned for Lara to follow him and explained in simple terms, "We need to dig out the clay carefully, so we don't mix in too much dirt. The cleaner the clay, the better it will be for our project."

Lara nodded, watching as Athan demonstrated by scooping up a handful, squeezing it between his fingers to test its consistency. "See how it sticks together? That's what we want. If it's too dry or has too much dirt, it won't hold properly."

Understanding, Lara crouched beside him and started helping, carefully picking out the best portions while avoiding the drier, crumbly bits. Their teamwork made the task go smoothly, each focusing on gathering the best material while keeping their movements efficient.

Using his hoe, Athan broke apart the upper layers of compacted dirt, revealing the damp, malleable clay beneath. As he worked, he felt the difference in texture—the clay was heavier, sticking to his hands as he scooped chunks of it into the wheelbarrow. Lara knelt beside him, using her hands to separate the cleanest portions, placing them carefully to avoid contamination.

The work was slower than collecting sand, requiring more precision, but Athan knew the effort would be worth it. The clay would be essential for future building projects, and ensuring they had enough for now would save them time later. With steady hands and synchronized effort, the two of them continued digging, the morning sun climbing higher as they worked. 

They carefully placed all the collected clay onto a large, clean rock embedded in the soil, ensuring it remained free from contamination. Athan checked the pile, pressing his fingers into the damp material to gauge its consistency. Satisfied with the amount they had gathered, he let out a relieved sigh and turned to Lara with a grateful smile.

"You can rest now. Thank you for all your help," he said warmly.

Lara, wiping a bit of clay from her hands, returned his smile, pleased with their progress. Without hesitation, she made her way toward the waterfall basin, eager to wash away the dirt and cool off after their hard work. Athan watched for a moment before stretching his arms, already thinking ahead to the next steps of their project.

He then began a new project, heading over to where the others were working on planks. Searching through the discarded wood pieces, he selected four that were sturdy enough to serve his needs. Satisfied with his choice, he carried them back and sat near his field, carefully examining their shape and texture before beginning his work.

With his small knife, he started carving, adjusting the edges so they would fit together into a rectangular frame. His strokes were slow and deliberate, smoothing out rough edges and ensuring the pieces would align properly. The task required patience, but Athan enjoyed the methodical process, his mind already picturing the finished result.

Once the frame was assembled, he stood up and stretched his arms, glancing over at the field. A small sense of pride swelled in him as he noticed the plants in Field 2 beginning to wrap their thin vines around the branches he and Lara had set up the previous day. It was proof that their efforts were making a difference, shaping the environment bit by bit. He smiled to himself before turning back to his project, ready to continue.

Satisfied, the boy walked over to his pile of clay. He started by dragging a flat stone closer to the pile, creating a stable surface to work on. Next, he retrieved a wooden bowl he had made previously, filling it with water, and gathered a few large leaves that were typically used for makeshift bedding.

Taking a handful of clay, he dipped his fingers into the water and began kneading it carefully, feeling the cool, damp texture spread between his hands. He worked the moisture into the material, softening it until it reached a smooth, pliable consistency. With slow, deliberate movements, he pressed the clay into a circular shape, shaping it into a plate. His fingers traced the edges, smoothing them out and reinforcing the structure to prevent cracks. The first few attempts were uneven, some edges thinner than others, but with each try, his technique improved. After carefully refining the plate, he placed it onto one of the large leaves, ensuring it stayed free from dirt.

Encouraged by his progress, he repeated the process, crafting three plates with better precision each time. Satisfied, he shifted his focus to bowls, knowing they would be more difficult. Using the same technique, he rolled the clay into a rounded form before carefully pressing his thumbs into the center, gradually shaping the depth. Unlike the plates, the bowls required careful adjustments to maintain balance, as the walls were more fragile. More than once, he had to reshape a collapsed form, patiently reworking the clay until it held firm.

By the time he finished, three plates and three bowls sat neatly on the large leaves, their surfaces drying in the open air. He stepped back, rubbing the excess clay from his hands, his gaze lingering on his creations. They weren't perfect, but they were functional—another small step forward in his goal to improve life for the tribe. He could already picture what they would look like once fully dried, another advancement toward a more stable future.

Next, he used the mold he had crafted earlier. Taking a handful of sand, he spread it evenly over the flat stone, ensuring the surface would prevent the clay from sticking. Carefully, he placed the mold on top and began pressing softened clay inside, filling every corner and smoothing the top to keep the shape even. Once the mold was packed, he lifted it gently, revealing a neatly shaped brick.

Athan examined his work for a moment, nodding in approval before carefully placing the newly formed brick on the ground a few steps away. He repeated the process, methodically filling, smoothing, and unmolding each brick, gradually creating a small but growing row of them.

As he worked, he recalled faint memories of how clay bricks were made. He knew they had to dry under the sun for a long time before they could be fired in a kiln to achieve true durability. For now, he could only rely on the sun, hoping it would be enough to make them sturdy. However, as his gaze drifted toward the mountain of dirt they had excavated from the ground, a thought began forming in his mind. If he could find a way to control fire and create a high enough temperature, he might be able to cook the clay properly. He remembered seeing pits used for firing pottery in his old world, where bricks and ceramics were baked in simple earth kilns. Perhaps he could build something similar—a makeshift furnace, a pit lined with stones to retain heat. His mind raced with possibilities, considering what materials he had on hand and what he would still need. The idea of making real, hardened bricks excited him. If successful, it would be another major step in building something lasting for the tribe. 

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As always, Wade worked while keeping a watchful eye on his son. With the walls now complete and most of the terrain inside cleared of trees, he felt a sense of relief knowing that a wild beast could no longer enter the camp unnoticed. The open space provided better visibility, making it easier to spot any potential threats before they got too close. However, despite this newfound security, he couldn't shake the lingering worry that his son was still not entirely safe. There were always dangers beyond what the eye could see, and no wall could completely shield them from the unknown.

The river flowing nearby carried its own dangers, and an accident could happen quickly. That was why he and Rael, the boy's mother, took turns keeping a close watch on him. The water could be unpredictable, and a misstep could lead to disaster. Even though Athan had proven himself capable and cautious, a single mistake near the rushing water could cost dearly. Wade often found himself watching his son from afar, his hands gripping his tools a little tighter whenever Athan ventured too close to the water's edge.

However, in recent times, Wade had noticed a shift. Lara had begun spending more and more time with the boy. Before, her duties had been mainly focused on tending the fire and preparing food for the tribe, but now, she was constantly by Athan's side. She learned alongside him, helped him with his projects, and shared in his workload as if she had always been part of it. Wade had seen how she naturally gravitated toward Athan's work, her curiosity growing each day. Whether it was gathering materials, assisting with constructions, or simply watching him as he explained something, she had integrated herself into his daily routine in a way no one else had.

Wade observed the way she mimicked Athan's movements, the quiet way she listened to his explanations, how she instinctively positioned herself to assist him when needed. He could see her growing attachment, not just to the tasks but to the boy himself. It was subtle but undeniable, and Wade wasn't the only one to notice. The rest of the tribe had begun whispering about it, watching as Lara's role evolved beyond what it once had been. He had even caught Rael watching the two of them interact, an unreadable expression on her face.

Wade suspected the reason, even though Rael had forbidden him from speaking about it. He understood her concern—she didn't want to put pressure on the relationship between the two youngest members of their group. But Wade couldn't ignore what he saw. Lara's attention toward Athan was not just admiration; it was deeper, a form of devotion that went beyond simple companionship. And Athan, despite being young, seemed to trust her completely, sharing his knowledge and work with an ease that suggested he had already accepted her presence as natural.

Still, Wade couldn't help but feel a quiet sense of pride. Attracting a companion at such a young age was rare, if not nearly impossible in their situation. Most would have had to wait years before earning that kind of loyalty from someone, yet Athan, whether by design or pure instinct, had managed to do so effortlessly.

But Wade knew his son well. Athan was different, and he wouldn't be surprised if, as time passed, more young women took notice of him. Their clan was small for now, their numbers limited, but progress was evident in everything they had built. Wade had no doubt that their future held great promise. As their settlement grew, so would their people, and the foundations they were laying now would ensure a thriving and prosperous life ahead. Watching Athan and Lara work side by side, Wade exhaled slowly, allowing himself a rare moment of satisfaction. Yes, the future looked bright.

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After a while, the boy finished using the pile of clay, having successfully molded 116 bricks, all neatly placed on the ground to dry. He straightened up, stretching his sore muscles, feeling the tightness in his back and shoulders after hours of repetitive motion. His fingers, coated in dried clay, flexed as he tried to shake off the lingering stiffness. Looking up at the sky, he estimated that there was about an hour left before sundown. The day had been long, but undeniably productive.

Deciding to check on the fields before nightfall, he made his way toward them, his steps a little heavier than usual. As he had observed that morning, the vines in Field 2 had begun wrapping around the branches he and Lara had placed the day before. A small nod of satisfaction escaped him—this was proof that their efforts were paying off. The sight of the healthy plants filled him with reassurance, reminding him that despite the daily hardships, progress was steady. With a practiced motion, he activated the watering system, listening to the faint trickle as the channels carried water through the fields. He knelt down briefly, pressing his palm against the soil to ensure it was absorbing moisture properly.

As the water trickled through the channels, he took the opportunity to clean himself in the basin, dipping his arms in up to his elbows, scrubbing away the dried clay and sweat that had built up throughout the day. The cool water sent a refreshing shiver down his spine, relieving some of the heat from his skin. He splashed his face, shaking his head lightly as droplets clung to his hair before finally turning off the flow, satisfied that everything was in order for the night.

Remembering something he had neglected for the past two days, he retrieved his slingshot. He had been so focused on construction and resource gathering that he hadn't practiced his aim. Finding a quiet spot with a few smooth, flat stones nearby, he took a deep breath and positioned himself. He spent about twenty minutes honing his accuracy, launching small stones at a makeshift target—a cluster of leaves pinned between two rocks. The rhythmic snap of the sling echoed softly through the evening air, each successful hit sending leaves fluttering to the ground. He adjusted his grip several times, testing his control over power and direction, feeling himself slowly improving with each shot.

Satisfied with his progress, he finally set the slingshot aside and made his way toward the meal area, rubbing his slightly sore wrist as he walked. As he lined up with the others, Lara's voice rang out across the camp, calling everyone to supper. The smell of the food, warm and rich, filled the air, causing his stomach to tighten in anticipation.

When his turn came, he received his portion, flashing a bright smile at Lara. "Smells really good," he said, his tone filled with genuine appreciation.

Lara, caught slightly off guard by his direct compliment, blushed lightly, quickly looking down as she returned his smile. There was a brief pause before she met his eyes again, the corners of her lips curling in quiet pride.

With his bowl in hand, Athan moved to his usual spot on the ground, settling in comfortably. He adjusted his seating, finding a stable position before looking up, waiting for Lara to collect her portion and join him, as had become their quiet routine. The air around the fire crackled softly, the warmth of the flames creating a gentle contrast against the cooling night. For now, the day's work was done, and the simple comfort of a shared meal was a welcome end to another step toward the future. 

After eating and cleaning, the boy resumed his work as a makeshift teacher. Today, he focused on teaching the women learning the alphabet about the connection between vowels and how sounds could be linked in writing. Using a stick, he carefully demonstrated how the way they spoke could be transcribed onto the ground, shaping the symbols in the dirt as he explained.

He then guided them through forming simple syllables, using the vowels they had learned. With each stroke in the soil, he sounded out the letters, helping them associate the marks with their spoken language. He encouraged them to repeat after him, adjusting their symbols when needed and reinforcing the idea that words could be built step by step. Though progress was slow, the women were beginning to grasp the concept, their expressions shifting between concentration and excitement as they took another step toward literacy.

His mother, Rael, was the quickest to understand. Having spent years communicating with her son, she had always been quick to grasp the meaning of his words, even when he tried to explain complex ideas. Now, with a structured method, she learned rapidly and soon began assisting the others. Taking the initiative, she started demonstrating in her own way, explaining to the women in simpler terms and answering their questions, just as Athan had done. Her patience and familiarity with the others made her a natural teacher, and under her guidance, the learning process became smoother.

Seeing that the lesson was progressing well without his direct involvement, Athan felt relieved. He gave his mother a small nod of appreciation before stepping away to check on the men. As he approached, he noticed that many of them were seated, carefully carving wood with intense concentration, their faces showing both determination and frustration.

Ok had taken charge in Athan's absence, overseeing the efforts while skillfully working on his own piece. Athan quickly realized they were crafting combs, each man determined to shape a unique one for every partner they had. The inspiration from Athan's story had turned into a quiet competition, with some struggling while others made impressive progress.

Recognizing that many of them needed guidance, Athan knelt beside them and began demonstrating proper carving techniques, showing how to create the comb's teeth evenly spaced and smooth. His hands moved with practiced precision, explaining in simple terms how to avoid splitting the wood and how to refine the edges for comfort.

Ok, the most skilled among them, observed for a moment before stepping in to assist. As Athan shifted between the groups, Ok took over where needed, helping to correct mistakes and offering tips to those struggling. His calm, steady approach made him an excellent assistant, reinforcing Athan's teachings while ensuring the work continued in his absence whenever he needed to return to the women's lessons.

With the men now fully engaged in their new craft, Athan allowed himself a brief moment to breathe, pleased with how things were falling into place. The tribe was learning, adapting, and slowly shaping a future that felt more promising with each passing day. 

One of the men, Def, approached Athan, his comb more advanced in design compared to the others. He hesitated for a moment before asking, "How you make flower in wood?" Clearly, he wanted to add decorative patterns to his comb, making it more unique.

Athan, smiling at the enthusiasm, raised his voice to gather the attention of the other men, who had already begun to inch closer, curious about the new technique. Seeing their interest, Athan picked up a small piece of wood and began demonstrating. He explained how to carve shallow grooves to outline petals, emphasizing the importance of patience and controlled movements to avoid breaking the wood. As he worked, he showed them how to use the tip of the knife to create finer details, adding depth and texture to the design.

The men watched closely, some nodding in understanding while others murmured among themselves, eager to try the technique on their own combs. Before they could begin, Athan raised a hand to get their attention. "Before trying on your combs, practice on a separate piece of wood first. Mistakes are easy to make, and you don't want to ruin your work and have to start over."

The men exchanged glances, some looking down at their unfinished combs before grabbing spare wood pieces to practice on. Encouraged by their interest, Athan handed the wood piece to Def, gesturing for him to try. Def hesitated, then carefully began tracing the lines Athan had shown, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he attempted to replicate the delicate floral pattern. The others followed suit, their knives moving with cautious precision as they familiarized themselves with the technique. 

After a while, the boy noticed the flickering firelight dimming and the weariness settling in on everyone's faces. He stretched his arms and signaled that it was getting late and they should all get some rest. The men, still engrossed in their work, hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement, carefully setting aside their combs and tools. Some exchanged quiet words, admiring each other's progress, while others glanced at their unfinished pieces, already planning to resume carving the next day. Athan watched them with a small smile, pleased with their dedication but knowing they all needed sleep to be ready for the next day's work. As they began to disperse, he gave Ok a small nod of appreciation before heading toward his own bedding, his mind still buzzing with the day's progress and the plans ahead.