Goblin Village, late afternoon.
The windmills turned lazily above the treeline, creaking in rhythm with the breeze. Below, the river spun the waterwheel generator Lumberling had built from salvaged copper and stone. In the half-buried workshop, glass bulbs flickered to life, soft light dancing like captured stars.
It wasn't much. But it was civilization. Progress.
Lumberling stood in the doorway, wiping grease from his hands when he sensed her behind him.
"You built all this in less than a week," Vaenyra said softly, arms folded as she watched the wind catch in the sails of the nearest turbine. "I almost thought it was magic."
"Feels like cheating," he chuckled. "But I'll take any edge I can get."
She stepped beside him, her blue hair swaying. "Then perhaps it's time you learn actual magic."
He blinked. "You'll be the one teaching me?"
"I'll start you off." She tilted her head. "Whether you survive the rest of the path is up to you."
…..
