The villagers gathered in stunned silence. Some gasped. Others cursed.
Elara clutched her son, fury flashing in her eyes. "Who would do this?"
Adrian crouched beside the wreckage, running his hand over the broken bricks. His voice was low, cold. "This wasn't an accident. Someone wanted this gone."
The chief hobbled forward, leaning on his cane. His tone was heavy with false sympathy. "Such a shame. Perhaps this is a sign. The gods disapprove of these… unnatural houses."
A murmur spread through the crowd. Doubt flickered. Fear returned.
Adrian straightened, eyes hard. "The gods didn't throw stones at this kiln. Men did." He swept his gaze across the villagers, catching the guilty flicker in more than one set of eyes. "And they're standing among us."
Tension crackled like lightning.
Lukas stepped forward, fists clenched. "Master, we can rebuild it! Don't let them win!"
Torren slammed his hammer against the dirt. "Aye! They think to break us in the dark? Then we'll rise stronger in the light!"
But Adrian's mind was racing. Sabotage meant more than fear. It meant division. Someone in the village wanted him gone badly enough to strike against their own future.
He caught the chief's faint smirk, quickly hidden behind a mask of sorrow.
So it begins, Adrian thought grimly. Not just bricks to lay, but enemies to root out.