The sun in Valenreach rose like a merciless blade, punishing the already parched earth. Aether, Lygni, and Obrem stood by the riverbank, alone. Aether stared at the cloudless sky; that morning, a scorching wind cut through the space between the three of them like an invisible knife.
"Lygni, what time would it be now?" I asked, without looking away from the horizon.
She tilted her head, analyzing the sun's position with the precision of someone trained to survive in any environment.
"About nine o'clock," she replied, her cold gaze returning to the river ahead.
"Highness... I don't think anyone is coming," Obrem said, his voice heavy with a disappointment he tried to mask. He looked around, seeing only the emptiness of the dry hills and the accusing silence of the distant village.
I let out a long sigh. It was the confirmation of my fears: my reputation was still as rotten as the day I arrived. The people of Valenreach preferred hunger over the hope offered by a prince they did not yet truly know.
"Fine. It'll just be the two of us, Lygni. Obrem, stay back and try to guide us through the best possible path," I ordered. I reached for the buttons of my shirt, pulling it off and tossing it onto the dusty ground. I exposed a body that, while noble, was beginning to show the grit of a new and hardened determination.
"But... why would you do this? Yourself?" Obrem questioned, shocked to see a member of the royal family prepare for manual labor.
"A leader doesn't just give orders, Obrem. He gets his hands dirty," I replied, feeling the sun's heat hit my skin. "If I am not willing to sweat for this land, how can I expect them to trust their future to me?"
I turned to the warrior beside me. "Lygni, are you with me?"
She stared at me for a long heartbeat, her ice-blue eyes searching for any hint of hesitation on my face. She found none.
"Let's go," she said, her voice regaining its military firmness. "It is the duty of the Royal Guard to follow their master to the end."
With pragmatic efficiency, she also removed the upper part of her attire, revealing a sturdy combat top underneath—functional and firm. Her skin, marked by years of brutal training, glistened under the harsh light.
"Thank you," I said sincerely, grabbing one of the iron pickaxes. "I'll need a strong person by my side today, and you're the best I know."
Lygni froze. For a brief second, her mask of absolute indifference flickered. She looked displaced, as if the compliment were a weapon she hadn't been trained to defend against. She quickly looked away toward the ground, gripping a shovel with much more force than necessary.
"Just do your part, Highness," she muttered, but I noticed her posture was straighter, imbued with a new sense of vigor.
We dug and broke stones all day long. Lygni and I managed to clear a significant path, though it was still far from enough for what I envisioned. Obrem, despite his age and the scars that limited his movements, helped as much as he could, acting as our expert guide and occasionally pushing his own limits alongside us. Morning bled into afternoon under a sun that seemed intent on draining every drop of moisture from our bodies. Liss brought us lunch; we paused for about an hour and a half—just enough time to catch our breath before plunging back into the labor until the day's end.
"Let's stop for now," I said, dropping the pickaxe. The sound of metal hitting the dry earth felt like a final punctuation mark on the day's exertion. The sun was finally surrendering to the moon, which appeared pale in the deepening sky.
Lygni dropped her shovel as well and sat down heavily. We were beyond exhausted. The sun had punished us all day, yet a strange sensation lingered in the air. It felt good. I looked at my hands, caked in dirt and starting to throb; the sense of accomplishment was incredible. My old body, fragile and confined to a hospital bed, wouldn't have even been able to stand after ten minutes of this.
I sat on the ground as well, letting the evening chill envelop us.
"We made good progress," I remarked, staring at the trench we had carved through the dead earth. The water was still held back in the original riverbed, separated from our canal only by the final layer of earth we had intentionally left as a temporary dam.
"Obrem, tomorrow, which direction do we dig?" I asked him.
He was seated on the ground and spread the worn map over his knees. Lygni leaned in, her breathing finally steadying, though sweat still glistened on her skin.
"Tomorrow..." Obrem began, pointing to a curve on the map where the terrain rose slightly, "we will need to bypass that solid rock elevation. If we try to break through it, it will take months. We must redirect the flow here, so that gravity does the work for us."
Tomorrow would bring more work, and it would undoubtedly be heavier than today.
Exhausted, I let my body fall back, lying flat on the ground. For the first time, I could truly contemplate the stars of this world. They were magnificent, scattered across the black mantle like diamonds on velvet. Obrem and Lygni followed suit, surrendering themselves to the hard soil we had just scarred with our labor.
"Tomorrow, we will do our best again," I murmured. The silence of the night was my only answer—a quiet pact sealed under the cosmos.
The next day.
The three of us were there again. The heat was already rising, and once more, I found myself staring at the sky, gauging the time we had left.
"Lygni, what time is it?" I asked.
She squinted at the sky. "Close to nine in the morning," she replied.
Without needing orders, we began to strip off our shirts. Obrem had already pulled the map from his pocket, spreading it over a flat stone. We were ready to face the day, convinced that, once again, it would be just the three of us against the mountain.
We grabbed our tools. The metal was cold now, but the sun would soon scorch it. Just as I was about to strike the earth, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye.
A man was walking down the dirt road. His hands were rough, and he carried his own pickaxe—worn by time, but well-maintained. He stopped a few paces away, his gaze shifting between the trench and the sweat-streaked Prince.
"Could I... join you?" he asked, his voice hesitant but steady.
My smile widened. This wasn't just about physical labor; it was a crack in the wall of hatred that surrounded me.
"Of course," I replied, my voice firm and welcoming. "An extra hand is always welcome here."
For the first time, a resident of Valenreach had stepped forward to help of his own free will. It felt as if my negative reputation had finally dropped by at least one point. The first step in turning an exile into a kingdom had been taken.