Chapter 61 - Chapter 61: The Markets Awake

Months after the siege's end, Ardentvale's walls no longer echoed with the clang of battle but with the hum of rebuilding. The city's wounds had begun to heal—physically, politically, and now, economically. The people who once huddled in fear beneath broken towers had returned to their crafts, their voices weaving through the streets like a rising chorus of renewal.Lucien stood in the newly reopened marketplace, watching as wagons from distant villages entered the gates. Grain, wool, and timber—simple goods, yet priceless now—rolled in along repaired trade roads. The air held the first scent of roasted grain and spiced bread since before the siege. "This is the sound of life returning," he murmured, though he knew it was fragile still.Under Rhea's directive, the council had reopened key trade routes along the nearby river and negotiated grain shipments from friendly towns upriver. The old port—once destroyed in the bombardment—had been dredged and refitted with timber and iron, transforming into a hub of slow-moving commerce.Aline's efforts reached far beyond her healing halls. She had organized relief guilds—groups of merchants and farmers pooling resources to revive lost industries. Her charity kitchens became community bakehouses where families labored side by side, trading skill and food in equal measure. "We rebuild not just to survive," she said, "but to live better than we did before." Her words spread among artisans, who began reopening forges and cloth markets, marking the first pulse of the city's reawakened heart.In keeping with medieval revival practices, reformation of trade guilds became central to reconstruction. Guild charters, thought lost in the siege, were rewritten—granting wider inclusivity. Merchants who once hoarded excess now pledged shares of profit to rebuilding grain stores or repairing river bridges. The council's new economic decrees exempted farmers and traders from hard tolls, echoing historical measures that revived war-torn medieval cities like Milan and Lübeck after devastation ��.Meanwhile, Lysara's restored wards safeguarded the marketplaces themselves—faint glows protecting goods from theft, ensuring honesty at weighing stations, and preventing flame from spreading through thatched stalls. Beneath her quiet guidance, commerce gained rhythm again, protected by both civic law and spellcraft.Each evening, musicians gathered in the square—harpers, flute players, drummers—echoing across half-built streets. Among their songs were odes to courage, and newly written ballads about merchants who braved besieged roads to bring bread and salt to the city.By spring's turn, caravans moved freely, and Ardentvale's economy shifted from desperation to determination. Trade fairs blossomed once more at the city gates, their banners waving beneath new stonework. Commerce became the city's new defense—proof that prosperity could succeed where swords had failed.As the council convened once more, Lucien looked across to Rhea, Aline, and Lysara. "We defended walls," he said, "but this—what stands before us—is our truest victory."Rhea smiled faintly, a streak of soot still marking her cheek. "And what we build now," she answered, "will outlast even the next war."Outside, the city's bells sounded, marking the first day of the spring fair—a new season not of struggle but of hope, where every coin traded and every road repaired sang the same quiet truth: that life, in Ardentvale, had returned stronger than before.