Before Adrian could answer, a loud crack split the air. The crowd turned. At the center of the village, the old stone well leaned dangerously to one side. Its wooden pulley had snapped, spilling rope and bucket into the dark hole.
"Not again!" a woman cried. "We'll have no water until it's fixed!"
The villagers rushed to salvage it, pulling helplessly at the broken timber.
Adrian's instincts kicked in. He strode forward, crouched, and examined the damage. "Your support beam is too thin. The wood's rotting. And you tied the pulley with frayed rope? No wonder it snapped."
The chief glared. "And you would know better, stranger?"
Adrian didn't answer. He grabbed a nearby stick and, using the dirt as his canvas, began sketching. His hand moved automatically, muscle memory guiding him as he drew lines, supports, and reinforcements.
The villagers crowded around, staring at the strange symbols and shapes. To them, it wasn't a diagram. It was a spell circle.
"What… magic is this?" a boy whispered.
Adrian looked up, half-amused. "Magic? No. This is just design. A better way to rebuild your well. Stronger. It won't break again."
The chief leaned on his cane, studying the marks. His eyes narrowed. "And you claim you can build this?"
Adrian smirked. "Not claim. Prove."