“First,” I said, looking out at the gathered elves, “welcome to the colony site.”

A cheer went up from the crowd arranged below me, but I could sense their exhaustion in it. It had been three days journey from our cave to this place, where we still needed to build a settlement. No doubt a week of living in a cramped cave followed by eighty kilometers of hard trekking had them eager to settle down somewhere more open.

Our elementalists had shaped a large line of shelters for us to sleep in, but they were as basic as possible: little more than roofed structures that would keep us dry.

“Ten days now we’ve been on this new world,” I told them. “And I know I’ve asked much of you all. Hardship is one thing. Discomfort another. But boredom—aye, idleness and uselessness, those things I know I’ve burdened many of you with. Seamsters and designers, carpenters and architects, archivists, poets, smiths, enchanters, children—by my command many of you have been reduced to little more than mules carrying stone and mana.” I paused, looking around at them with a wry smile. “I know it. You know it. While I and the warriors enjoy the struggles of the hunt, returning each day with essence, keys, and red meat for feasting, so many of you have been asked to do little more than dream of what you will do once your time has come.”

I spread my arms, made my voice carry farther. “It isn’t easy, I know. Waiting. But for the sake of all our safety, I need you all to bear the burdens of boredom, discomfort, and hardship still. Though now, at least, we will do it out in the open.”

I heard some sounds of agreement from the crowd. “As you’ll soon see, we have plenty of work in front of us. But before I call upon our chief architect, there’s few things I want to say: first, the election will be in seven days’ time. I will not campaign; I doubt others will, either. I will write my slate, share it, then tend to the work that needs tending while you all decide without my interference. Second, the ritual I promised remains firmly fixed in my sight. It is my highest priority.”

Open cheers went up from the crowd at hearing this, and I waited for them to die down before adding: “And that ritual requires essence and keys—an extraordinary number of each. Keys require territory to strip aspects from, and that requires flight. As such, the clearest step toward the completion of the ritual is to secure a deal with the storm lord, Akkakesh. Once we’ve done a little to settle in here, I want everyone to know that the mountaintop concert is our utmost priority, after safety. All of us are at High Priest Hassina’s disposal when it comes to bringing that about—all of us.”

I could have said much more about my hopes for the concert. I wanted it to succeed because I wanted a sign, for both me and my people, that the vast stores of knowledge we’d brought with us to this world would serve us well. To be an elf was to bear the burden of memory, and if we had to bear the pain of remembering what we’d lost, I felt we deserved to flourish by using what we’d kept.

I wanted to show them that. Apart from the bow, our gods Olorai and Sabina had at least agreed on music, if not on particular instruments. Each elf I’d brought with me was a living library of songs. And music was a gift that enriched both giver and receiver—to trade it for [Air] keys would be like making something from nothing.

I realized I’d paused for too long, then turned my attentions back to the elves. “Third,” I said. “I also realize that all those among you who are not wild elves may have any number of concerns about our future on this world, and the future of your own traditions and culture. In the days to come, I’ll be with the colony more often than not—if anyone has thoughts on this matter they’d like to share with me, you may approach me at any time. I’ve spoken with the councillors, Archmage Seriana especially, at length on this, and I expect many more conversations to follow.”

I scanned the crowd, searching for one elf in particular, then found him. “That’s all I need to say for now,” I said. “Now I’ll ask you to attend Zephanal, who we’ve appointed chief architect. He’ll go over our long and short term plans for this site.”

Zephanal stepped forward and nodded to me. “Lux Irovex.” He moved into the center of the circle of elves, turning to take them all in. He was a brown-haired, brown-eyed elf, round-faced and broad-shouldered. He had a severe sort of personality, Zephanal. He spoke with the clear expectation that his orders would be followed and had little use for pomp.

“Now we don’t exactly have an amphitheater here,” he said. “So no matter what I do, not everyone is going to be able to see. Maybe move the children out front? They’re shorter. I’ll leave most of my model out so that you can all take a look at it afterward, but that’s the best I can do.”

He looked around at them, seeming to wonder where to begin. “All right,” he said at last. “Some of you are already somewhat familiar with the plans, since they’ve been in the making for five days now. But to keep everyone informed—here, I’ll show you.”

Zephanel began to shape the soil before him, tearing up the grass, then turning it over to make a rectangular patch of earth. He then created a small, perfectly proportioned model of the cliffside, complete with a channel cut through it for the distant river and waterfall, a hanging line of glittering dust to represent the second mist layer, and a few tiny models of our current, makeshift lodgings. He conjured several motes of bright light to illuminate this, then began to explain.

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“The goal is to build a small, highly defensible settlement. That means walls. It means a dry moat, one that can be filled with water when we wish it. It means a keep that can house all of us. And most of all, it means excavation. At least fifty meters below our current elevation, and for the entire town.”

The whole crowd seemed to erupt into conversation at this last detail, and it was easy to see why: the workload he was describing was absurd. The footprint of the entire town, dug fifty meters out of soil and stone.

Zephanal let the noise continue around him as he modified his diagram, carving out a massive circle of soil. Then he called for quiet, and when the noise around him was subdued, he continued:

“The shape of that settlement is simple to fathom. Here’s a giant circle whose edge just barely touches the cliff. Now, we take the half of the circle nearest the cliff and carve the whole thing out, two straight, parallel lines leading perpendicular to the cliff, yes?”

He carved out his model as he spoke. “A rectangle combined with a semicircle. Or if you prefer, a circle that opens itself up to the cliff’s edge. We’ll plant the tree in the middle, put the open green around it, surround that with everything that’s not residences, and put the residences in a ring around those. We leave an outer ring for more open green, and we’ve got our settlement. The walls will be efficient in this shape, less area to defend—our military people tell me they feel it’s unlikely we’ll be defending from anything coming up the cliff and across the plains at the same time. Industries go closer to the cliff, as some of them will be underground and I’m told we’d rather excavate along the cliffside than further in. We’re also going to build a lift to bring up the limestone we quarry and the iron we collect in the swamp, and we’ll want our foundries as close to that lift as possible. Residences will be more clustered toward the round end of the circle here, as the keep we’re building is going to be at the center of that curve, facing the mountain.”

As he spoke, he drew all these things on his growing model—the walls and ramparts, the keep rising out of the far curve of the semicircle, a small lift cut into the cliff’s edge, a ring of trees on the inside of the walls, followed by a ring of buildings that grew larger as they grew inward, followed by a broad, open expanse where he placed an enormous tree.

The crowd had murmured all through his description of the town-to-be, and when he fell silent for even a moment their murmuring rose in volume, so that Zephanal looked around at them and scowled.

“Quiet. Quiet, everyone.” When this didn’t shush them to his liking, Zephanal raised his voice and let a longer: “Silence!” Then he looked around at everyone, daring them to speak. “Yes, fifty meters down—I’m assuming that’s what you’re all on about? We have a lot of stone and soil to move, there’s no denying it. This—” he gestured to the model of the town. “—is not a light workload. The sheer tonnage that we’re going to be excavating here is… astonishing, to say the least. And what’s more, we’re not going to be dumping overburden over the cliffside—we’ll be storing it someplace up here, nearby but outside the perimeter so that we can use the stone for building or break it down to mix with cement. But why not?” He looked around at them all, challenging them. “Why not do it right? Are you in a hurry to be somewhere else? We’re going to take the time to do it right because we’ll be living in it, because it’s what will keep us safe. Besides, we’re drowning in mana and essence: we need to raise our limits, that’s what we need. And nothing’s more in comport with the calling of an earthmover than moving earth for the best reason imaginable. We build.”

He made a firm gesture back toward his model. “This is the plan. We need to dig low so that we’re under the second mist layer, not above it. The airborne creatures here are too aggressive, and the wyverns especially can range a hundred kilometers or more from their nests to hunt. Now, we can weave spells into the settlement itself to mask the mental presence of the elves here from all but the most keen psychic hunters. But what we can’t do, at least not yet, is hide the whole affair from sight. Hence, we’re building our settlement in a sort of pocket—below the second mist layer, but with walls that rise through that layer on all sides. Nothing flying in either layer will bother with us. Yes, some wyverns will likely try to eat the guards on the walls that rise above the second layer, but at that point, they’re just being courteous by bringing us essence and keys.”

A few of the gathered elves laughed a little. In truth, though, we likely wouldn’t see many wyverns after a time—we would be depleting most of their population on this side of the mountain, which was so large that it formed a natural barrier encouraging the rest of the wyverns in these mountains to hunt elsewhere. After that, we’d likely just use psychic deterrents rather than tolerate intermittent attacks: the latter would require us to station more personnel on the walls.

“Now, that’s all planning for the future,” said Zephanal. “For now, we’re building a temporary fort—one that will house all of us in some measure of comfort, but still be reasonably defensible. And it’s going to be a little closer to the mountain than the permanent one, here.”

He drew a squat, round structure in the shadow of the larger, more grandiose fort he’d made of soil. “And that, my friends, I want finished as soon as possible. Which means today, we’re pushing hard. Until Lux Irovex is satisfied with the strength of our defenses, every one of you is under my command. If you can move earth with magic, you move earth. If you can’t move earth with magic, but you’ve got a physical body, you move earth. Some lucky few of you will not be moving earth, but channeling mana into mana wells that the rest of us then use to help us move earth.”

He clapped his hands, looking around at all of them and giving off a sense of immense satisfaction. “Now: let’s get started, shall we?”