The week of punishment ended with me taking Kassa to personally apologize. The boy in question was very confused, but accepted it nonetheless. I thought this would finally usher in a peaceful era. While that was not exactly wrong, it was not right either.

Kassa continued to get into trouble every once in a while. And while I felt I often had to remonstrate her, she seemed to be very adamant and was more often than not the one causing trouble. My mind drift briefly back to the culture of Silvestri I experienced. Kassa might have grown up in a culture much like it, or maybe it is even biological. She continues to dominate the children around her, albeit less aggressively.

I started joining in on teaching the children to wield weapons, Kassa included. It is something I remember everyone above seven would be doing, though I hadn’t joined in, neither in my childhood as Jorgen took me away, nor before now in this village.

Among the children, Kassa is clearly the strongest and the fastest learner. Again I don’t know whether to attribute that to her species or her own personal talent, but I brush it aside as not mattering while I teach.

A few months in, Patir brings good news. Apparently our increased hunt volume has made a surplus of skins which he wants to trade for cash. I don’t want to join, but a small caravan is prepared. It takes them two weeks to make the trip, but they bring back spices, salt and proper tools. It seems most of the construction work around here was done with just axes and swords. No wonder everything looks so terrible.

Then a period of renewal of the village begins. As many of the men are unneeded for hunting for all of us, Patir organizes those he deemed most talented into a construction that slowly rebuilt the village over the following year.

It was a bit embarrassing, but Patir made sure my house is much grander and fancier than anybody else’s. He says it has to be this way, to keep up appearances and remind people that I am in charge, lest they forget. I can’t help but think that sounded bad, but I am reminded of how Jorgen’s house stood out among the rest of the village and accept it.

I think that now, many hundred years after he has perished, I may finally be living the life Jorgen thought waited for me.

A year later, the village is almost unrecognizable from when I first visited. The houses look livable, although their doors and windows are still simple rectangular holes, they stand straight and look sturdy. We were just heading from the hunt, when Patir calls to me.

“What do you think is next for the village?” He asks me.

“I don’t know” I answer honestly. I have never been good at planning for the future, mostly living by what makes most sense in the moment.

“Specialists!” he says with a wide grin.

“Specialists?”

“Yeah. We have money, food and proper shelter. The next thing we need is people who can bring luxuries to us! A brewer to make drink and a blacksmith to make hinges, maintain our gear and tools are the basics. If we can, a priest to gather people in their faith, a glassmaker to make glassware, a potter to make pottery and a tailor to make clothes would also be good, though those usually come much later.” He seems to ponder a little over the last bit.

“And why are you telling me?” I am a bit confused, but it seems my question shocks the old Patir.

“You daft boy! Do you not understand what it means to be the leader?” I am being scolded all of a sudden.

“Of course, you must sign off on any ideas regarding the future of our little village, or it will seem like I am going behind your back! Maintain your position a little, will you?” It feels tough, but he is right. If I want people to continue giving preferential treatment to Kassa and I, I will have to maintain a position that reminds them I am in charge. Though, I doubt they will forget since they see me procure their food every day.

I glance over the troop. It is evident they are better fed, healthier and happier now than when I first came. A few have even started to develop a protrusion around their waist.

I give Patir my approval, even if it is only ceremonial, I feel like that old codger knows way more about this than I do. When we arrive back, I greet Kassa, though it seems she has no interest in spending the day with me today either. I feel like the only time we spend together now is when one of my, by now, many punishments are being administered.

I don’t have time to feel lonely, as I am immediately pushed by Yasia’s father to join them for dinner. Most of the other parents have given up their pursuit, presumably after discovering my disinterest, but this guy has never let up all this time.

As we enter his house, we are greeted.

“Ah, pleased to meet you, mister Yian! Please, have a seat” The little girl, ever so slightly taller now, says before going over to pull a chair out for me. Over this time, she has gradually become less shy, though she always seems to take a very formal tone with me.

“Thank you, Yasia.” I say as I sit down.

“Haha, look at you two, already like a wife greeting her husband after a hard day’s work!” Her father adds.

To be honest, I felt like I should have stopped this bizarre relationship ages ago, but I was seduced by the good food. Now it feels like it has been going on for far too long for me to put a stop to it. I can still ride this wave by now, but time is ever pushing forward and I literally have no idea how I am going to get out of it when Yasia comes of what this world considers to be a marriageable age. I mull it over a little while watching the blushing little girl.

I end up digging into the food and ignoring it. That’s a problem for future Yos! I mean Yian!