Grym closed his eyes, focusing wholly on the wood beneath his fingertips.

Slowly, gently, he ran his finger along the headboard, checking the seam between the two planks. The wood felt slightly springy, a faint moistness collecting on his skin. Internally, Grym winced. Using such improperly prepared planks hurt his professional pride. They should have been cured for a month at the very least, to remove the moisture that made the wood warp and rot.

Sadly, there was no time for such luxuries.

Opening his eyes, he inspected his craftsmanship. In the corner of the room was a small wooden bed. The construction was 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, showing up on time, learning quickly, working tirelessly, and never talking back.

His two actual apprentices could have learned a thing or two. It would have saved him from having to knock their heads together so often.

Grym gave the bed a final inspection, before walking back across the small room and pulling open the door. Outside, a woman stood, leaning against the wall of the corridor. Long brown hair, streaked with hints of grey, spilled down over one shoulder, and she fiddled with it as she stared out a window over the city beyond.

She was radiantly beautiful.

Grym went to greet her, but his mouth was suddenly dry. Licking his lips, his heart pounding in his chest, he cleared his throat. The woman turned, a smile lighting up her face.

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

Stepping to one side, he let Hana back into her room. As soon as her eyes fell onto the bed, she gasped in joy.

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

“It was no big thing.” He said.

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

She stepped forward and planted a kiss on Grym’s cheek. Grym froze up as her soft lips brushed his face, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from his chest.

Hana stepped 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 said, not looking at him.

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

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

He turned and headed out the room.

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

As he strode down the corridor of the building, Grym’s face blazed. The conversation played over and over again in his mind. Why didn’t he say more? Do more? Maybe even ask her out on a walk…

His blasted tongue and its inability to be eloquent.

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

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

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

Grym looked up, meeting her eyes. As he did, she flashed him a wide smile. “Good afternoon, Grym, didn’t see you coming.”

Grym glowered at her, the woman’s mischievous grin telling the real truth. Grym quickly broke his eyes away and stared at the floor, speeding up his steps.

Blasted nosey people sticking their damned noses in where they don’t belong.

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

Luckily, her voice faded away as Grym rounded the corner and took the stairs out the building. As the cool breeze washed over him, he paused, taking a deep breath to calm his emotions. He couldn’t command the respect of his two apprentices if he was going around blushing like some teenager.

No matter what distracting thoughts Hana’s promise had brought to his mind.

Grym turned and walked up the street. When they’d first arrived in Srinaber, the city, as they’d 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 had been sectioned off with a picket wall. Most of the people lived in the central buildings where they had originally sheltered, but some had spread out through the rest of the safe area, each adding some little personalizations that made the place seem more like shoddy homes instead of ancient ruins.

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

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Ahead of him, a pair of skeletons dragged a tree trunk through the southern gate. The undead had been bringing in wood constantly as they slowly cleared the trees throughout the city and its surroundings. As the creatures never tired, working all day and night, the progress they had made was astounding. Each day saw the city being reclaimed more and more, nature pushed back further and further.

Grym followed the pair as they turned into the yard beside his workshop. A sawdust-covered skeleton, one of those assigned to him exclusively, directed 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 held the project that had been consuming his attention for the last week. Standing tall along the far wall were 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 diagrams. 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.

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

When Daryl spotted Grym he stopped sawing and stood up straight. “Good morning, Master Grym. I’m almost done with the three span planks as you wanted.” He said, 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 asked, his brow furrowing as he peered around, trying to spot the other wooden pieces.

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

“You ain’t started.” Grym paused and rubbed his beard, feeling the frustration within him rise once more. “Then why is Oak just standin’ behind you and not working?”

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

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

“You really are a stupid boy.” Grym growled. “I gave you an order to use the creature to help you complete the task before I returned.” Grym stepped forward and rammed 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 stammered.

“But bloody nothin!” Grym roared. “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 responded, 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 shouted in his face. “Or you can find yourself a new apprenticeship.”

Daryl stood frozen, staring in fear at Grym’s face. Grym waited a moment, but Daryl didn’t stir.

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

“Y-yes!” Daryl stuttered then span and dashed back to the workbench. With shaking hands, he gathered half the tools and passed them to Oak, pointing to a neighbouring table. The skeleton took them in silence and marched over, quickly getting to work.

Grym turned 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 patted at his beard and clothes, trying to make himself more presentable. The Lord unnerved him in a way no one else he had met had ever 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 chimeras, fought off Seekers, and even set his skeletal servants to aid them in their daily lives. He’d brought them here, and built a home for them out of ruins. And through all that, he hadn’t demanded anything from them, no tribute, no taxes, he hadn’t even propositioned the women.

A far cry from any other noble Grym had ever met.

There was just something otherworldly about Lord Reud. 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 Grym had a feeling that no matter what came their way, Lord Reud would protect them.

The man had earned his loyalty.

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

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

Lord Reud nodded, saying nothing.

“My lord, if you would excuse the question, but I still don’t understand how the carriages are to move.”

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

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

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

Grym followed his eyes, and together they waited. A few minutes later, four skeletons strode into the yard, their feet all moving in sync. Grym eyed them as they approached, still not fully comfortable with the expressionless creatures, no matter how useful they’d proven to be. The group stopped in front of Lord Reud, going from marching to standing perfectly still in an instant.

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

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

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

Turning to Grym, his eyes blazing with indigo light, he raised a hand. “The skeletons within the compartments can now be commanded to turn the wheels, moving the cart without any need for horses.”

His hand twitched, and the cart moved, rolling forward. “By changing how fast the skeletons on each side turn their wheels, you can also turn the carriage, like so.”

The carriage rolled around the yard in a large circle, returning to its original position.

Lord Reud lowered 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 stared at the carriage, shaking his head gently. Once again, the Lord had performed something else inexplicable.

Carriages that moved without horses, whatever would be next?