Grym closes his eyes, focusing wholly on the wood beneath his fingertips. Slowly, gently, he runs his finger along the headboard, checking the seam between the two planks. The wood feels slightly springy, a faint moistness collecting on his skin. Internally Grym winces, using such improperly cured planks hurts his professional pride. They should have been cured for a month, but sadly there was no time for such luxuries at the moment.

Opening his eyes, he inspects his craftsmanship. In the corner of the room is a small wooden bed. The construction is fairly simple, the lack of so many basics in the city forcing him to focus on quantity instead of quality, but for this piece he did take the time to embellish the headboard with the carving of a leaping fish. It was, after all, a special piece.

The only reason he had the spare time to detail the headboard was due to the work of the skeletons entrusted to him. The unnatural creatures were better than any apprentice he had ever taken on, learning quickly, working tirelessly, and never talking back. His two actual apprentices could have learned a thing or two. Would have saved him from having to knock their heads together so often.

Grym gives the bed a final inspection, before walking back across the small room and pulling open the door. Outside a woman stands, leaning against the wall of the corridor. Long brown hair, streaked with hints of grey, spill down over one shoulder, and she fiddles with it as she stares out a window over the city beyond. She is, to his eyes, radiantly beautiful.

Grym goes to greet her, but his mouth is suddenly dry. Licking his lips, his heart pounding in his chest, he clears his throat. The woman turns, a smile lighting up her face.

“Hana, it’s finished.” Grym finally forces out, his voice sounding gruff even to his own ears. “You can come look now.”

Stepping to one side, he lets Hana back into her room. As soon as her eyes fall onto the bed she gasps in joy.

“It’s perfect!” She exclaims. Clasping her hands together in front of her chest, she turns towards Grym, the action making certain parts of her move in ways that send a flush across his face.

“It was no big thing.” He says.

“It’s perfect.” She repeats firmly. “Truly, thank you so much.”

She steps forward and plants a kiss on Grym’s cheek. Grym freezes up as her soft lips brush his face, his heart pounding so heart it feels like it would burst from his chest.

Hana steps back, her eyes staring at the floor, a hint of a blush colouring her cheeks.

“I… will think of a way to thank you properly for this.” She says, not looking at him.

Grym forces himself to respond again. “No need. It was my pleasure.”

An awkward silence stretches out between them before Grym breaks it. “I’d better get back to work.”

He turns and heads out the room.

“I’ll see you soon, Grym.” Hana says from behind him.

As he strides down the corridor of the building, Grym’s face blazes. The conversation plays over and over again in his mind. Why didn’t he say more? His blasted tongue and its inability to be eloquent.

A couple stand in an open doorway further down the corridor, peering out at him. The man mutters something, loud enough for Grym to hear.

“Why does she get a bed, we asked first.” He grumbles.

The woman next to him looks up and him then plants an elbow very deliberately into his ribs. “Don’t be a clot, you know exactly why. Those two-”

Grym looks up, meeting her eyes. As he does, she flashes him a wide smile. “Good afternoon Grym, didn’t see you coming.” Grym glowers at her, the woman’s mischievous grin telling the real truth.

Grym quickly breaks his eyes away and stares at the floor, speeding up his steps. Blasted nosey people sticking their damned noses in where they don’t belong.

As soon as he passes the pair the woman begins talking again. “Besides Hana has been widowed for years, it’s about time…”

Luckily, her voice fades way as Grym rounds the corner and takes the stairs out the building. As the cool breeze washes over him, he pauses, taking a deep breath to calm his emotions. He can’t command the respect of his two apprentices if he’s going around blushing like some teenager. No matter what interesting thoughts Hana’s promise brings to his mind.

Grym turns and walks up the street. When they first arrived in Srinaber, the city, as they’ve begun to call the safe area within the walls, was tiny. It encompassed only a few buildings, and was surrounded by a shoddy barricade. Now a fairly large area has been sectioned off with a picket wall. Most of the people live in the central buildings where they originally sheltered, but some have spread out through the safe area, each adding some little personalizations that make the place seem more like shoddy homes instead of ancient ruins.

Turning at the end of the street into a smaller alley, Gym heads towards the sounds of sawing and hammering. Due to the constant noise, his workshop was situated right up against the southern wall, as far from any homes as possible.

Ahead of him, a pair of skeletons drag a tree trunk through the southern gate. The undead have been bringing in wood constantly as they slowly clear the trees throughout the city and its surroundings. As the creatures never tire, working all day and night, the progress they have made is astounding, day by day reclaiming the city from nature.

Grym follows the pair as they turn into the yard beside his workshop. A sawdust-covered skeleton, one of those assigned to him exclusively, directs the pair to place the trunk alongside a towering pile of others. It had picked up the art of processing the logs into planks the quickest, so Grym had left it in charge of managing the constant stream of wood brought by its brethren.

The other side of the yard holds the project that has been consuming his attention for the last week. Standing tall along the far wall are three large carriages, alongside a half-complete fourth. When Lord Reud had brought the plans for them to him, written on ancient waxed parchment, he had struggled to understand them. There was no space for a driver to sit, and nowhere to hitch horses. In its place, however, was a complex set of instructions. A shell around each wheel, only exposing the bottom to the ground beneath. Within the shell, above the wheel, was a few spokes and a space, large enough to fit a child. The child would be able to reach out and touch the wheel, if it so desired. Also included was a removable cover to access the space. What lord Reud could want it for was beyond him, but a request from the Lord was a request from the Lord. He did not have the right to refuse him.

Beside the unfinished carriage works Grym’s youngest apprentice, a boy named Daryl, hard at work sawing boards for the final cart. Behind him stands another skeleton, the one they named Oak for his thick leg bones.

When Daryl spots Grym he stops sawing and stands up straight. “Good morning Master Grym. I’m almost done with the three span planks as you wanted.” He says, gesturing to the neatly stacked pile of equal size planks to his side.

“And where exactly are the five span and ten span planks? Also, the main beam, fittings and spokes?” Grym asks, his brow furrowing as he peers around trying to spot the other wooden pieces.

Daryl looks guilty. “Ah, well... I haven’t started on those yet.”

“You haven’t started.” Grym pauses and rubs his beard, feeling the frustration within him rise once more. “Then why is Oak just standing behind you and not working?”

Daryl looks over his shoulder at the skeleton, revulsion distorting his face. He takes a step away from Oak and towards Grym, lowering his voice as he responds.

“Well that… thing. It’s an abomination.” He says before spitting on the ground. “A creature of Vistol.”

“You really are a stupid boy.” Grym growls. “I gave you an order to use the creature to help you complete the task before I returned.” Grym steps forward and rams his finger into Daryl’s chest, knocking him back a step. “You think you know better than me now? Is that it?”

“No M-master Grym. But-” Daryl stammers.

“But bloody nothing!” Grym roars. “Lord Reud gave us a commission and I gave him my word it would be completed. You going to make me a liar, boy?!”

“N-no Master!” Daryl responds, his eyes wide.

“Well, then you’d bloody well get to work, and use the damned tools I damned well tell you to use!” Grym shouts in his face. “Or you can find yourself a new apprenticeship.”

Daryl stands frozen, staring in fear at Grym’s face. Grym waits a moment but Daryl doesn’t stir.

“Move boy!” Grym shout, pointing his finger at Oak, the skeleton not having moved an inch during the entire exchange. “Get back to bloody work!”

“Y-yes!” Daryl stutters then spins and dashes back to the workbench. With shaking hands he gathers half the tools and passes them to Oak, pointing to a neighbouring table. The skeleton takes them in silence and marches over, quickly getting to work.

Grym turns away from the boy to look over the carts, only to spot Lord Reud himself leaning against the yard entrance, a bemused smile on his face.

Feeling immediately underdressed, Grym pats at his beard and clothes, trying to make himself more presentable. The Lord unnerves him in a way no one else he has met has managed. When he’d first met the man he had seemed strange, but he’d simply chalked that down to being nobleborn. Since that moment, however, the man had done inexplicable after inexplicable thing. He had faced down magical beasts, fought off Seekers, and commanded the dead to rise. There was just something otherwordly about him. Maybe it was the corpse-pale skin, or the bone-white hair. Or maybe it was how he never seemed tired, or hungry, or thirsty.

Yet, despite all that, he had protected them. When the Seekers destroyed their home, he had given them a new one, even setting his skeletal servants to aid them in their daily lives. Grym had a feeling that no matter what came their way, Lord Reud would protect them. Something he never thought he’d be able to say about any noble. The man had earned his loyalty.

Lord Reud walks over. “Good afternoon, Grym. How goes the work on the carriages?”

“Beggin’ your pardon my lord.” Grym responds, bowing awkwardly. “We still aren’t done, but it should be no more than a day longer.”

Lord Reud nods, saying nothing.

Silence stretches out between them, until eventually Grym breaks the silence. “My lord, if you would excuse the question, but I still don’t understand how the carriages are to move.”

“I didn’t explain that?” Lord Reud says, his eyebrows rising in surprise. “Well let's fix that.”

Grym follows him towards the leftmost carriage. Stopping beside it, Lord Reud turns, his eyes blazing purple for a moment.

“Give them a moment to arrive.” He says, looking back out the yard entrance.

Grym follows his eyes, and together they wait. A few minutes later four skeletons stride into the yard, their feet all moving in sync. Grym eyes them as they approach, still not fully comfortable with the expressionless creatures. The group stop in front of Lord Reud, going from marching to standing perfectly still in an instant.

Lord Reud steps up to the closest one, grabbing its ribs and lifting. Everything from the creature's pelvis drops away to clatter on the ground, leaving only its torso, arms, and skull.

Lord Reud turns to Grym, gesturing to the cart with an elbow. “Could you open the top of one of those wheel arches please.”

Grym steps over, unlatching the top of the shell around the wheel, opening it up to expose the compartment within. Lord Reud walks over and stuffs the skeleton in face down, the undead’s arms dangling down through the spokes to rest on the wheel. He repeats the same for all four wheels, before stepping back.

Turning to Grym, his eyes blazing with indigo light, he raises a hand. “The skeletons within the wheels can now be commanded to turn the wheels, moving the cart without any need for horses.” His hand twitches, and the cart moves, rolling forward. “By changing how fast the skeletons on each side turn their wheels you can also turn the carriage, like so.” The carriage rolls around the yard in a large circle, returning to its original position.

Lord Reud lowers his arm, his eyes fading back to their original grey, a wide smile on his face. “It’s an idea I had a long time ago. You have no idea how pleased I am that it worked out.”

Grym stares at the carriage, shaking his head gently. Once again the Lord had performed something else inexplicable. Carriages that move without horses, whatever would be next?