Theodore stood with Roland, their breaths visible in the crisp winter air as they gazed at the structure dominating Farmer Jed's field. The iridescent dome shimmered, its smooth surface defying the natural world around it.

"What do you make of it?" Theodore asked, his voice low.

Roland's brow furrowed. "Never seen anything like it. It's not magic, at least not any I recognize."

Jack circled the structure, his movements deliberate and cautious. His eyes narrowed as he examined every inch, occasionally pausing to jot notes in a small book.

"Any theories?" Theodore called out.

Jack shook his head, not looking up from his inspection. "Nothing concrete yet. It's... resistant to my usual methods of analysis."

Theodore nodded, turning back to Roland. "We need to secure this area. No one gets close until we know more."

"Agreed," Roland said. "I'll set up a perimeter. What about Farmer Jed?"

Theodore sighed, his gaze drifting to where the farmer stood, wringing his hands and staring forlornly at his field. "I'll talk to him. We'll need to compensate him for the loss of his land."

As Theodore approached, Farmer Jed's weathered face creased with worry. "M'lord," he said, bowing his head slightly. "What's to become of my field?"

Theodore placed a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder. "Jed, I understand this is difficult. But for everyone's safety, we need to quarantine this area."

Jed's eyes widened. "Quarantine? But m'lord, this field's been in my family for generations. It's all I have."

"I know," Theodore said softly. "And you will be compensated fairly for your loss. Additionally, I'd like to offer you a position working for me directly."

Jed's face contorted, a mix of emotions playing across his features. "Work for you? But... I'm a farmer, m'lord. It's all I know."

"And a good one at that," Theodore nodded. "Your skills would be invaluable as we work to improve Holden's agricultural output. Plus, it would provide you with a steady income while we sort out this... situation."

Jed's gaze drifted back to the shimmering dome. "And what of my land? Will I ever get it back?"

Theodore met the farmer's eyes. "I promise you, Jed, once we understand what this thing is and how to deal with it, your land will be returned to you. You have my word."

Jed was silent for a long moment, his calloused hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. "I suppose I don't have much choice, do I? It's also for my own family's safety. They work here. Alright, m'lord. I'll take your offer."

Theodore squeezed the man's shoulder. "Thank you, Jed. Your cooperation means more than you know. We'll work this out, I promise."

As Jed trudged away, Theodore turned back to the field. Roland had already begun setting up markers to keep people away, while Jack continued his meticulous examination.

"Roland," Theodore called. "Make sure we have guards posted round the clock. No one gets close without my express permission."

Roland nodded, already moving to carry out the order.

Theodore's mind raced.

The implications of this strange arrival were a mystery for now.

What was it? Where had it come from? And most importantly, what did it mean for Holden?

Theodore sighed, and watched as Jack finally stepped away from the dome, shaking his head in apparent frustration. The structure remained as inscrutable as ever, its smooth surface reflecting the light.

"Nothing?" Theodore asked as Jack approached.

"Nothing definitive," Jack replied, his voice tight with annoyance. "It's like nothing I've ever encountered. No magic I can detect, no physical properties that make sense. It's just... there."

Theodore nodded, his eyes never leaving the dome. "Keep at it. We need answers."

Theodore stood at the edge of the field, his cloak pulled tight against the deepening chill. Behind him, he could hear the murmur of curious townsfolk, whispering among themselves.

"My lord," Roland's voice cut through his thoughts. "The perimeter is secure. We've got men posted at regular intervals. No one's getting close without us knowing."

"Good," Theodore nodded. "And the townsfolk?"

Roland's face tightened. "Scared, mostly. Lots of wild theories flying around. Some think it's a sign from the gods, others are convinced it's some new threat."

Theodore sighed. "Keep an ear out. If the fears start to get out of hand, we may need to address them directly."

"What do you think it is, my lord?”

"Can't say. I don't know, honestly. But it did appear after the Night Whispers, so I fear a correlation.

As Roland moved away to continue his duties, Theodore found himself alone with his thoughts once more. The dome loomed before him, a silent sentinel in the night. Its presence seemed to mock their efforts to understand it, to control it.

In the distance, he could hear the normal sounds of Holden. But here, in this field, time seemed to stand still.

Theodore's mind wandered to the challenges ahead. Winter was bearing down on them, bringing its own set of problems. And now this... this unknown quantity had appeared, demanding attention and resources they could ill afford to spare.

Theodore finally turned away from the field. There was work to be done, plans to be made. For now, though, he knew what he'd be doing.

***

A field of rich, reddish-brown clay spread out before him.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

The ideal material for brickmaking.

He'd spent days scouting for this spot, rich in silica and alumina, with just the right plasticity.

The snow fell as he rolled up his sleeves.

"Alright," he muttered, "let's see what [Elemental Spells] can do."

First, he would need to clean up the field a bit. Fire came out in waves from his outstretched palms, sweeping across the white expanse. The snow hissed and steamed, melting rapidly under his magical assault.

As the last patches of white disappeared, Theodore seamlessly transitioned to his water rune. The newly melted snow responded instantly, rising into the air in a shimmering curtain. Droplets coalesced into a massive, undulating form above him.

Theodore sent the airborne water gliding across the sky. It moved like a liquid cloud, refracting sunlight in dazzling patterns. When it reached a distant, empty field, Theodore released his control. The water fell in a localized downpour, soaking the earth below.

Satisfied, Theodore lowered his hands, watching the last drops fall. Focusing on the earth rune, Theodore extended his hand. The clay before him began to move. It rose, forming a rough rectangular shape.

"Too wide," he frowned, adjusting his concentration. The clay shifted, narrowing.

Once satisfied with the dimensions, Theodore switched to the fire rune. Heat radiated from his palm, enveloping the clay brick.

A few minutes later—

Crack!

—The brick split down the middle, overcooked and brittle.

"Damn," Theodore sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. "Too much heat, too fast."

He tried again. And again. Each attempt brought new challenges. Too little heat left the bricks soft and crumbly. Too much, and they warped or cracked. Finding the right balance was maddening.

Theodore contemplated the brickmaking process as he worked through attemps.

On Earth, It would begin with selecting the right clay, a mix of silica and alumina with good plasticity. Traditionally, this clay would be extracted, weathered, and mixed with water to achieve the proper consistency. The mixture would then molded into brick shapes, either by hand or machine. These raw bricks would be left to dry slowly, preventing cracks. Finally, they'd be fired in kilns at high temperatures, typically around 1800°F to 2400°F. This firing process would cause chemical changes, fusing the clay particles and giving bricks their characteristic strength and durability. The entire process, from clay extraction to finished product, usually took several weeks.

By midday, the field was littered with misshapen, broken attempts. Theodore sat heavily on the ground, frustration etched on his face.

"Having trouble, my lord?"

Theodore looked up to see Jack approaching, a wry smile on his face.

"Nothing worth doing is easy, I suppose," Theodore replied, getting to his feet.

Jack examined one of the failed bricks. "Interesting approach. Using magic to replicate the traditional process?"

Theodore nodded. "Traditional brickmaking takes weeks. We don't have that kind of time."

"True enough," Jack mused. "Perhaps a more gradual heating process? Mimic the slow burn of a kiln?"

Theodore's eyes lit up. "Jack, you're brilliant!"

Theodore faced his next attempt. This time, he started with a low, steady heat, gradually increasing the intensity. The clay brick glowed a dull red, then brighter, the color deepening as the minutes ticked by.

A lot of them would end up cracking

Theodore considered the challenge of preventing cracks without the luxury of slow drying. He realized that maintaining precise control over the heating process was crucial. By using his fire rune to apply heat evenly and gradually, he could effectively simulate the slow drying process in a compressed timeframe.

He focused on slowly driving out moisture from the center of the brick outward, ensuring the clay particles had time to settle and compact uniformly. Additionally, he experimented with adjusting the clay mixture itself, perhaps adding a small amount of sand or grog (pre-fired clay ground into a powder) to reduce shrinkage and provide better structural stability during the rapid drying and firing process. Through careful manipulation of heat and composition, Theodore found he could create crack-free bricks in minutes rather than weeks.

Finally, Theodore let the heat dissipate. Before him sat a perfectly formed brick, its edges crisp and even.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, grinning widely. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Theodore's productivity practically soared. He found he could shape and heat multiple bricks simultaneously, his control over the elements growing stronger with each attempt.

The sun arced across the sky as Theodore worked tirelessly. Sweat soaked his shirt, and his muscles ached, but he pushed on. Brick by brick, his pile grew.

By the time he was done, [Elemental Spells] had leveled up to 13.

Theodore surveyed his handiwork. Hundreds of bricks lay neatly stacked, ready for use. Enough, he hoped, to construct a proper kiln for future brickmaking.

"Impressive," came a voice from behind him. Theodore turned to see Roland approaching, eyebrows raised at the sight.

"Thanks," Theodore replied, stretching his sore arms. "It's been... quite a day."

Roland picked up one of the bricks, testing its weight. "These will certainly speed up our building projects. The town could use more sturdy structures before winter truly sets in."

Theodore nodded. "A kiln first, then perhaps some public works. A bathhouse, maybe?"

"One step at a time, my lord," Roland chuckled. "For now, I'd suggest a hot meal and some rest. You look dead on your feet."

As if on cue, Theodore's stomach growled loudly. He realized he'd worked straight through the day without pause.

"Point taken," he grinned sheepishly.

Theodore took one last look at his day's work. With a satisfied nod, he turned towards town.

The promise of a warm meal and a soft bed called to his body.

Tomorrow would bring more work, but for now, he'd earned his rest.

"You know," Roland said as they neared the town's edge, "with skills like that, you could put half the laborers in Holden out of work."

Theodore laughed, shaking his head. "No fear of that. There's more than enough work to go around. Besides, I don't fancy spending every day making bricks."

They passed through the town gates, nodding to the guards on duty. The streets were still busy with people finishing their day's business, but a sense of winding down permeated the air.

"Will you join me for dinner?" Theodore asked as they approached the manor.

Roland shook his head. "Another time, perhaps. I've got the night watch to organize. That dome of yours has everyone on edge."

Theodore's good mood dimmed slightly at the reminder. "Any changes?"

"None," Roland replied. "Still just sitting there, doing nothing."

Theodore nodded, his mind already shifting. "Keep me informed if anything changes."

"Of course, my lord," Roland said with a small bow. "Enjoy your evening."

As Roland departed, Theodore climbed the steps to the manor's entrance. The delicious smell of cooking food wafted from wi, making his mouth water.

Theodore pushed open the door and stepped inside. His muscles ached, his clothes were filthy, and he was hungrier than he could remember being in a long time.

Two maids were already waiting, having been alerted to his arrival.

"Bath's ready, my lord," Emma said, gesturing towards the washroom.

Theodore nodded gratefully. "Excellent. Let's make this quick, shall we?"

In the washroom, he shed his filthy clothes without hesitation. One of the maids efficiently gathered them for washing while the other poured warm water over him, rinsing away the worst of the grime.

Theodore washed up, then asked. "Any news from town?"

"Just excitement about your brickmaking, my lord," she replied, averting her eyes but maintaining a professional demeanor. "Folk are curious what you'll build first. Of course, there's concerns about that thing in the farmer’s field.”

Clean and refreshed, Theodore stepped out of the wash basin. The maids swiftly dried him off.

“Much better," he sighed, slipping on the fresh clothes they provided. "Thank you both."

The entire process had taken mere minutes. Theodore strode out for his well-earned meal

As he sank into his chair, Theodore let out a long, satisfied stretch. His bones creaked, his muscles protested, but the discomfort was ignored for the first course arrived, steam rising invitingly from the bowl. Theodore picked up his spoon, and enjoyed the meal to its fullest.