NOVEL NEXT Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Bianca
Day 27
Population of Thornhill - 53
Our little village has been busy the past few days. After completing the well, the next projects were building walls for the mess hall and refurbishing our current shelters. The shelter burden eased a bit more once Marek finally finished the first floor of his house and moved his family into their new home. Besides that, some of the more adventurous villagers were moving into the pirate ship quarters.
The refurbishment of the shelters included adding a stone hearth to each shelter and wooden partitions to give people privacy. Every shelter was reinforced with daub to keep out vermin and insulate against the elements. The tanners were busy finishing and selling rugs and blankets to add more comfort. The village air was thick with the scent of cured leather and furs and the faint scrape of wood being sanded.
We finally had a carpenter in our group, Molvin. He wasn’t formally trained, but he was a regular DIY addict who did carpentry as a hobby in his garage back home. He quickly got to work making cabinets, chairs, and shelves for the group, which we installed in the shelters. Molvin’s hands were often busy carving new shelves or chairs, and his grin grew wider with each copper he pocketed. Soon, he was bartering for extra rations and trading his coin in for more blankets and game meat.
People started getting a sense of what it was like to have property, and they wanted more of it. They wanted places to store personal things like soap, coins, bags, and other possessions. Sophie said this was good since materialism encouraged people to work harder to buy more things.
During lunch, we held a mini-town meeting to discuss the next project: the watermill. Marek only had a vague idea of how to build one, so I asked the villagers if anyone knew the schematics. Surprisingly, it turned out to be easier than expected. We would construct a wheel with paddles in moving water and attach an axle to a millstone. In the past few days, Slate had been cranking out wooden planks and preparing the foundation for the watermill.
Ten villagers came out to help, including Cade, Marek, Ethan, Alex, two blacksmiths, our new carpenter Molvin, and Anika, and an old retired teacher Kathy providing technical assistance.
Once we picked a spot upstream with good water flow, we headed to the lumberyard to gather materials for the waterwheel and axle. Molvin was in charge of crafting the wheel and paddles, while Slate worked on the grindstone. Slate lifted a huge boulder, then smoothed it out with a copper hammer and the help of the blacksmith duo, BJ, who used chisels.
Marek and a group of helpers, including Alex and Cade, started constructing the house attached to the mill that would house the grindstone and hopper.
As I watched Alex and Cade carry lumber together, their Class-boosted strength assisting them, laughing and trading jokes, I felt a swell of pride. Many villagers stopped by to offer their support or help, fetching planks of wood or food for the workers. There was a proper sense of community as everyone lent a hand, some advice, and a smile.
By sunset, the wheel was in place, and the main shaft was attached to the pinwheel. When the water started turning the wheel, everyone gathered and did what Americans do best. We clapped and cheered like it was the Fourth of July.
“HELL YEAH!”
“WATER POWER, BABY!”
“THORNHILL FOREVER!”
The next day, farmers like James, Samar, Lu Yi, and her daughter carried jars of wheat berries to the hopper and tossed them in. I offered extra coins to anyone who helped with the harvesting and processing of wheat. The grain was ground into coarse flour in minutes, which flowed down into empty sacks. Thornhill finally had flour.
That night, Herman and his team of fishers returned with their catch, and we all helped gut and clean the fish. Blunt candles made out of wax and tallow were prepared on the table alongside plates. Tortillas were being made from the freshly milled flour, and Orion battered the fish with the new flour and fried it in oil. Gladys was filleting elk steak off a massive old bull the size of a moose that Orion took down, seasoning it with salt and herbs. Vesper, another food worker, was making a salsa verde using gathered green fruit and chopped-up wild herbs. It was taco night, with a choice of fish or elk steak tacos.
In large clay pots, we mixed freshly filtered water, sweet berry wine courtesy of Father Gallagher, honey thanks to Astrid, and some picked mint leaves. A non-alcoholic version using green fruit juice was made for our non-drinkers and children.
The mess hall buzzed with merriment and song. It seemed we had a lot of John Denver fans, as Gabriel led us in singing “Take Me Home, Country Roads” and “Leaving on a Jet Plane.” Tipsy on berry wine, the villagers joined in, slurring the words or humming through the parts they’d forgotten, bursting into laughter when the lyrics turned into a jumbled mess of hums.
It was a good time, and while they partied, I prepared Slate for his next task: building a church.
We had plenty of volunteers, including Marek, to help with the church. Marek was transitioning from being a government contractor to becoming an independent builder. He hadn’t earned much recently since he was focused on his own house, relying instead on Roza’s seamstress business. I made an informal deal to pay him 5 copper credits for each day he worked.
A few days later, the church, a small wooden plank building with a simple gable roof, was finished, and we held our first service.
I attended, along with two dozen or so other Christians in the community, including Herman, Sophie, and Marek’s family. James showed up too, though I suspected he was more interested in Father Gallagher’s wine. Surprisingly, Orion came as well, sitting in the back.
“Good day, fellow villagers,” Father Gallagher began. “I want you all to know, regardless of your denomination or even religion, I will focus on what binds us, not what divides us. We must be united despite our spiritual differences, especially in these trying times. This church will never turn anyone away nor compel the villagers to conform to its doctrines. Instead, it will be a place of connection, a place to learn from each other, and a place to heal.
My hope for this church is that it encourages compassion, unity, and fellowship.
So, for my first sermon, I think it’s fitting to talk about the importance of community. It is one of the central themes of the Holy Book. Though we don’t have a copy of the Bible with us, I can recite Acts 2:42 from memory...”
At the end of the service, a collection plate was passed around, and we all contributed one copper credit.
“So… I thought you were against this place, Rye?” I smiled at Orion, who dropped a copper into the plate.
“It’s an important event for the village, and I figured I should be here for the opening at least,” Orion shrugged, his voice laced with weariness. “Just as boring as I remembered.”
When Holy Communion was offered, most non-Catholics declined, but James eagerly volunteered. Father Gallagher smiled as he gave James the wine and wafer, made from our freshly milled flour.
After the service, Father Gallagher approached Orion and asked how he liked it. Orion replied sarcastically that he’d burn the place down if the Father started any crusades or inquisitions. The priest laughed heartily, not taking offense, telling Orion to come back and confess his sins sometime, which elicited an eye roll from Orion.
Then Father Gallagher came over to me. “Mayor Bianca, good to see you at the service. How did you find it?”
“I think it was exactly what we needed. Thank you, Father.”
“No, thank you for helping build the church. I knew God had a plan when He put us here, and He gave you Slate for a reason.” Father Gallagher smiled knowingly.
“Yes…” I replied, feeling unsure.
I think it was more random luck than anything.
Father Gallagher’s hand slipped into a leather bag and handed me 50 coins—some from the collection and some from his alcohol sales. “My first payment for the church.”
“Oh…” I had forgotten about that. I wasn’t sure if I should take the money, but Anika and Orion had insisted the church pay its dues. The money wouldn’t go to my personal funds, but into the town’s treasury.
“I just want you to know I’m open to offering penance. If you ever need to reconcile with God, don’t hesitate to ask,” Father Gallagher said warmly, patting my shoulder.
“I’ll think about it, Father,” I said, forcing a smile. Deep down, the thought of penance felt foreign—like a burden I didn’t want to acknowledge just yet.
With the completion of the church and the first service, I felt something deep inside and pulled out my Founder class card to see it had leveled up to level 8. Only two more levels until level 10 and I get a new ability.
The days passed, and I spent most of my time making fine pottery, as Sophie suggested. I focused on crafting teacups and teapots. After glazing my latest batch, I checked to see if any had received a C-grade. One of my teapots, a classic round gourd shape, looked promising. I examined the information card that popped up:
Teapot of Revitalization - C
Tea brewed in this teapot restores a moderate amount of energy.
Finally, I had my second C-grade pot. The first one I made for Orion seemed like a fluke, but now I had another.
After finishing the pots, my Pottery skill leveled up to six, presenting me with three options:
Tea Master - C
Teapots and accessories you make are a grade higher and sell for more.
Plate Juggler - C
The edges of the plates are you craft are sharper, and the plates are harder to break.
Kintsugi - C
Requires less gold to repair pottery.
Kintsugi looked tempting, but I chose Tea Master. Sophie, James, and Orion were heading off on a trade mission soon, and I needed to make better tea sets to boost our trade goods. I believed this skill would benefit Thornhill, but I also wanted something of my own—something beyond just having a powerful familiar in Slate.
I thought about the dreams everyone in the village had. Orion wanted to open a tavern. Alex wanted to be the strongest person in the world. Ethan wanted to start a teaching clinic. Anika wanted to open an apothecary. Herman wanted to catch a swordfish. Bart and Jesus wanted to start an armory. Marek wanted to build a huge mansion for his family. Astrid wanted her animals to be known worldwide. Sophie wanted to be rich. And so on.
Everyone had dreams, and with Slate’s help, I hoped to help them achieve those dreams. But I had my own dream too. I wanted to open a teashop, selling tea supplies and specialty teas, and hope that it would export and import the finest teas and teaware from across the realm.
It was the one thing I wanted for myself, to be important for more than just having a powerful familiar. My skill in making teaware would be sought out throughout the village and hopefully the world.
For that, we needed a port and trade goods.
I examined the first teapot I created after reaching level six and my Tea Master skill:
Terracotta Teapot of Luxury - C
This teapot has twice the trade value and boosts the atmosphere of any display chest it is placed in.
When I showed Sophie the C-grade teapot I had made, she smiled ravenously, sending chills down my spine, and asked a simple question:
“Can you make more?”