Tales of The Primordial Dawn

As the bricks baked in the heart of the forge, turning them from brittle clay to solid blocks, I set off to find a spot within our tribe's bounds to lay the foundation of my new home. After a thorough walk, my eyes finally settled on a promising plot - a flat piece of land surrounded by trees, offering a mix of shade and sunlight.

With the location decided, I began to draw the shape of my house on the ground using a stick. The idea of a house made of brick was new for our tribe. Our dwellings were made mostly from tree branches, leaves, and sometimes the hide of animals. This was going to be an exciting project.

I was knee-deep in marking the layout when I heard Liora’s voice, "What are you doing, Tak?"

Looking up, I saw her standing a few feet away, a basket full of fresh forage slung over her arm. "I am planning to build a house made of brick," I told her.

Her hazel eyes widened in surprise. "Can I help?" she asked, stepping closer.

"Sure," I replied, handing her the stick I was using. "We can start by laying the foundation."

As we worked on the outline, Liora told me about her foraging trip. "I found more tomatoes today," she said, opening her basket to show me.

I looked at the ripe, red tomatoes and then in the direction of our fields. "That's good. We need to expand our fields though, perhaps even make a second one. The tribe is growing, and so should our sources of food."

Liora's fiery hair glinted in the descending sun, her slender form in harmony with the task at hand. "Why is it so spacious?" she asked, her emerald eyes full of curiosity.

"It's not," I replied, wiping sweat off my brow. "It just seems that way. If I knew how, I would make a room for everyone. But for now, one room will have to suffice. Maybe Joran or the others can figure out a way to partition it."

Her eyes sparkled with understanding. "It'll be as big as the chief's hut," she observed.

"Yeah, we'll have to make Mako's new place a bit larger." I replied, envisioning a future where every member of the tribe had a space of their own.

As we were digging around with sticks, a playful voice echoed from behind. "What are you doing?" The familiar voice belonged to Zulu, my younger brother. His tousled brown hair danced with the breeze, and his hazel eyes sparkled with curiosity.

"We're building a house, Zulu," I told him, motioning for him to join us. "Want to help?"

Zulu's eyes widened in excitement. "Really? Can I?" he asked, rushing over to us.

"Of course," I smiled, handing him a stick. "You can help us by marking the edges."

For the rest of the day, Zulu, Liora, and I worked on our project. Our progress was slow but sure, each stroke of our sticks a testament to our determination.

The morning light seeped in through the slits of our tent as I woke up to the sound of chirping birds. Zulu was already up, his bed empty. I rose, shaking off the night's sleep, and stepped outside to see him waiting for me.

"Ready to start?" Zulu asked, his hazel eyes shining with anticipation.

"Let's go," I replied, ruffling his tousled brown hair.

We hadn't gone far when a voice halted us. "Where are you going?" Maeve, our sister, stood there with her wild auburn curls bouncing as she approached us, her blue eyes filled with curiosity.

"We're going to build the house," Zulu answered before I could. His chest puffed up with pride.

Maeve's eyes lit up. "Can I help?" she asked.

"Are you not supposed to be helping mom at the healer's hut?" I queried.

She shook her head. "I'm supposed to go with Enara later to gather herbs, but I can help until then."

I nodded. "Alright, but be careful."

We made our way to the stack of fired bricks that lay near the forge. I reminded my siblings not to take too many at once, conscious of their safety. We each carried a few bricks, and I took a small pot, one that Mako had made, to carry water. I also picked up some extra clay, foreseeing its use in the construction process.

As we reached the marked ground, I directed my siblings. "Lay the bricks along these lines," I instructed, pointing to the lines we had drawn the previous day. While they placed the bricks down, I mixed some clay with water in the pot to create a thick paste. This paste would act as a binder, holding the bricks together.

Meticulously, we began to layer the bricks, one by one. The process was slow, demanding care and precision. I slathered a layer of the clay paste on top of each brick, reinforcing its bond with the next brick. The morning wore on, punctuated by our concentrated silence. By the time the sun was high in the sky, we had a promising foundation laid out in front of us.

Maeve had to leave for her duties with Aisling then. As she walked away, she turned back and looked at our work, a sense of accomplishment in her eyes. "We did good," she called out, waving at us.

Zulu and I shared a glance. We were only getting started, but her enthusiasm was infectious. "We did good," I agreed. And with that, we set back to work.

The steady rhythm of laying brick upon brick lulled my thoughts back to a time before, to my previous life where buildings were constructed with steel and glass, with electricity buzzing in cables hidden behind plastered walls and water coursing through complex networks of pipes. This simplicity was a stark contrast, a single room home with clay and bricks, its sole feature a hearth for warmth and cooking.

Our quiet work drew the attention of the tribe. Brin, Eamon, and Garan approached, their faces mirroring our wonder. A sense of pride surged within me, and I stood straighter. "Garan, how are you?" I asked, turning my attention to the quieter man with short black hair and a bushy beard.

"Better," he replied, his blue eyes reflecting the honesty of his words.

Eamon's eyes sparkled with mischief as he added, "Could it be because of the Wulani woman he's been seen with?" His gaze slid over to Garan teasingly.

My interest was piqued. "What Wulani woman?"

Eamon grinned. "A hunter named Yelia."

My lips curved into a smile. "Well, that's good to hear. Who knows, perhaps our tribe will grow with new babies soon."

Zulu's voice sliced through our conversation. "Can they make babies?" The innocent question hung in the air, provoking laughter. Zulu was too young to understand the complexities of life, but his curiosity was endearing.

Unsure of how to respond, I chuckled. Before I could say anything, Brin stepped in. "Tak, you should hurry up and make some too. You're at a good age to start."

His comment caught me off guard, leaving me momentarily speechless. I shot him a look of surprise, followed by a hearty laugh. "Let's finish this house first, Brin."

The conversation shifted towards potential mates, with Brin voicing his thoughts about Liora. "She would make a good candidate, Tak. She's young, just like you." He paused for a moment before adding, "There are also some young Wulani girls."

It was a topic I hadn't thought about. I was more concerned about survival than starting families. But it was a natural part of life, a rhythm that echoed the seasons, the tides, and the setting and rising of the sun.

Eamon chimed in, "Integrating the Wulani was a smart move, Tak. Now we have more hands for hunting and gathering. And with the addition of tomatoes, corn, and radishes in our fields, we have less to worry about."

Garan was more cautious. "It's true, but we should still think about expanding the fields, just in case. You never know when a problem might crop up."

Brin agreed. "Garan's right. Plus, the days are getting hotter, it's getting tougher to hunt and forage."

The idea of the heat bothered me less. "It's not so bad," I reasoned, "We can always cool off in the river."

Eamon considered this. "True, but it's not the best for hunting over long distances."

His words reminded me of the sundial we'd crafted. "What about the portable sundial? Has it been any help?"

Garan nodded, appreciation lighting up his face. "It's been a game-changer, Tak. We can calculate how long it'll take to reach a herd of animals, or track how far that herd has moved."

"What about the animals?" I asked, curious to know if they had noticed any changes. "Have they been moving around a lot lately?"

Eamon didn't hesitate. "Yeah, they're moving further away," he said, his forehead wrinkling in concern.

Brin was quick to add his perspective. "That could be because we've been hunting them more frequently. More mouths to feed means more food needed. That's bound to affect the animals."

His words echoed my thoughts, reinforcing the delicate balance between our tribe and the environment. The idea of introducing more variety to our diet popped into my mind. I remembered grains from my previous life, how wheat and barley had been a staple in many cultures.

"If we could find some sort of grain, like wheat or barley, we could further improve our food sources," I suggested. "In the old times, people ate grains all the time, and they could be grown year-round."

Garan's eyes lit up at the idea, but he had another proposal. "We've been thinking of capturing more goats. We have three in the pen, but a few more could be beneficial."

"That sounds like a good plan, but remember, the goats need to eat as well," I reminded him.

Brin chimed in, "Speaking of goats, one of them has gotten quite chubby lately."

A knowing smile spread across my face. "She's probably pregnant. If that's the case, we'll soon be able to get milk from her."

Milk was a concept that was still foreign to many in the tribe. It would be a new addition to our diet, one that could only be possible thanks to the goat's arrival. The thought of milk sparked a curiosity in my tribe mates, their faces a blend of intrigue and anticipation.

With a friendly pat on the shoulder and wishes of good luck, Garan, Eamon, and Brin took their leave, their hunting gear in tow. The murmur of their departing voices mingled with the rustling leaves, leaving a tranquil silence in their wake. I watched them disappear into the dense foliage, their skilled steps leaving only faint imprints on the forest floor.

As the quiet settled in, I turned my attention back to the bricks. The rhythmic click of the bricks as they were laid out in patterns was calming, almost meditative. There was a simplicity and honesty to the task that I found immensely satisfying. Each brick, shaped by my own hands and fired in the heat of the forge, was a tangible representation of my efforts to provide for my family and tribe.

Zulu, ever the curious one, approached me, his young eyes sparkling with questions. "Tak," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you think of the Wulani people?"

I paused, laying down the brick I had been working with. I had to choose my words carefully, to help him understand the complexities of human interactions and the concept of 'otherness.'

"I think they're just like us, Zulu," I started, looking into his innocent eyes. "They want the same things we do - a safe place to live, enough food to eat, and a community to belong to."

He seemed to ponder over my words, his small forehead creasing in thought. "But they look different, and they speak differently," he observed, quite astutely.

I nodded, acknowledging his observation. "Yes, they do. But those are just superficial differences, Zulu. What truly matters is what's inside, how we behave towards each other, and the values we uphold. They've shown kindness and cooperation, haven't they?"

Zulu nodded slowly, absorbing the complexity of my words. "So, it's like... how a raven and a sparrow are both birds, but they're different?" he suggested, his eyes wide with realization.

I chuckled at his analogy. "Yes, exactly like that. They're both birds, yet they look different and sound different. But in the end, they both want to find food, build a nest, and live peacefully."

He seemed satisfied with my answer, the crease on his forehead smoothing out.

I continued to lay the bricks, the monotony of the work punctuated by Zulu's endless string of questions. "Tak," Zulu began, a touch of excitement coloring his voice, "I've been sharing the numbers you taught me with the Wulani kids."

My hands paused mid-motion as I turned to look at him, a proud smile making its way onto my face. "Is that so?" I asked, amusement threading through my tone. "And they're catching on?"

Zulu nodded vigorously, a triumphant grin splitting his face. "Yeah, they really like it!"

That warmed my heart. Sharing knowledge was a powerful tool, something that brought people together, broke down barriers. It was heartening to see Zulu embracing that so naturally.

"Think you can teach them too, Tak?" Zulu asked, his eyes full of innocent hope.

I paused, considering his question. "Maybe later," I decided, thinking about the workload I still had before winter. "There's a lot more I need to get done before the snow falls."

Zulu seemed to accept this, offering me a small nod of understanding. But then, he became uncharacteristically quiet, his gaze dropping to his feet.

"Why the sudden interest in the Wulani, Zulu?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. His face turned a shade darker, his lips pressed into a tight line. That reaction intrigued me even more.

"It's nothing," he mumbled, attempting to brush it off. But I wasn't fooled. Something was definitely up with my little brother.

A playful smirk spread across my face as I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. "Is it perhaps about a certain Wulani girl?" I ventured, my tone teasing.

Zulu's reaction was immediate and telling. His face blushed crimson, his eyes widened in surprise, and he spluttered in denial. I laughed at his flustered state, my heart warmed by his innocence.

"All right, all right," I assured him, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Your secret's safe with me, little brother."

Zulu nodded, still blushing but seemingly relieved. We went back to our work, the rhythm of our activity restoring the easy silence. Yet, my mind was alight with thoughts. My little brother was growing up, his world expanding. It brought a mix of pride and nostalgia.

With our day's work done, Zulu and I headed back to the tribe, our muscles aching but spirits high. As we moved, I found myself lost in a swirl of thoughts. The house was taking shape nicely. If we continued at this pace, I figured we could probably finish it by tomorrow.

My mind then began to shift to the next step. There was so much potential in the area we lived in. We could certainly fit more houses, especially if we built them in a row. The thought of playing a role akin to a city planner was amusing and interesting at the same time. It wasn't something I had done before, but it was an opportunity to shape the community's future in a tangible way.

A row of houses, well-spaced and strategically placed, could not only provide us with shelter but also foster a sense of community. Each family could have their own space, but also be part of a larger entity. That idea excited me, and I found myself sketching out the plan in my head.

As I toyed with the idea, another thought began to nag at me. Water. It was a crucial resource, especially for a growing community like ours. I considered the possibility of building a well. But the prospect of digging deep into the earth and then figuring out how to get the water to it felt overwhelming, to say the least. It would require a lot of effort and resources.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I tried to think of an alternative solution. Moving water from the river seemed like a simpler idea. But how could we do it without it becoming a daily chore? Maybe there was a way to make a channel, a way for the water to flow closer to the settlement...