Lork's workshop resembled a sprawling farmstead, but instead of animals, it housed stacks upon stacks of lumber. Ethan marveled at the various ongoing projects, ranging from chairs to chests and even wooden cutlery.

Descending from the wagon, Ethan surveyed the surroundings. To his left stood a small house, while on his right, a large barn served as Lork's workshop. Lork left the wagon where it was and motioned for Ethan to follow him inside.

Entering the barn, Ethan noticed an array of long wooden beams leaning against the walls. Traditional woodworking tools were meticulously arranged around a workbench, and the air carried the scent of freshly cut wood. Impressed, Ethan smiled and approached the workbench. "This is a fantastic place, Lork. I'm genuinely impressed."

Lork returned the smile. "I appreciate the compliment, Ethan Okamura?" He gestured toward the workbench. "Bring those drawings over here."

"Would you mind just calling me Ethan? No need for my family name every time," Ethan suggested.

Lork raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Family name? What's that?"

Ethan stared at the burly man, initially suspecting a prank. However, Lork genuinely seemed puzzled. Ethan proceeded to explain, "Okamura is my family name. Ethan is my given name. Don't you have a family name?"

Lork shook his head. "No, I'm just Lork. Why would a family need a name?"

Ethan shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. There are probably many reasons. One reason could be to differentiate individuals within large communities. It might also be a way to honor ancestors and maintain a sense of connection. Don't you have something like family clans or similar concepts?"

Lork smiled. "That sounds strange to me. I wouldn't want to be named after my father. Although I have heard of clans, we don't have such things here in Dervin's Rest. I'm simply Lork."

"That suits me fine, so let's stick with just Ethan then," Ethan agreed.

Lork playfully slapped Ethan on the back. "Fitting in already! Now, let's get to work, shall we?"

Ethan nodded, and he began explaining the design to Lork. Although it took Lork a bit of time to grasp the concept, he quickly understood the design. Lork gathered pieces of wood, selecting a dark wood for the axle and hub, and a lighter, springy-looking wood for the wheel.

Next, Lork brought in the wagon, flipped it on its back, and removed the wheels, using the axle as a measurement reference for the new one. Ethan observed Lork's work for a while, growing bored with mere observation. He approached Lork and asked, "Can I assist with anything? It's a bit dull to watch all day."

Lork looked up, considering Ethan's request. "You could start whittling the spokes, I suppose. Here, let me show you." Lork handed Ethan a sharp knife and pointed toward a pile of logs evenly split into smaller wedges. He instructed Ethan on how to carve each wedge evenly, and Ethan began the process.

To Ethan's surprise, he soon discovered the difficulty of the task. Whittling the spokes appeared deceptively easy, but he found himself either taking off too much, too little, or producing crooked results. After three unsuccessful attempts, he gave up in frustration, tossing the knife onto the table. Lork grinned at him but continued his own work.

In the time it took Ethan to achieve nothing, Lork had nearly completed the axle. The man seemed like a workhorse, and a tinge of annoyance washed over Ethan. He swiftly suppressed the feeling and decided to step outside for some fresh air.

As Ethan stepped outside the barn, he was captivated by the picturesque landscape that unfolded before him. It resembled a scene straight out of a painting, blending the beauty of nature with the fruits of human labor.

The meadows, alive with vitality, undulated like gentle waves in the breeze. They boasted a myriad of wildflowers, swaying elegantly and adorning the landscape with splashes of yellow, purple, and pink.

In the distance, fields of golden wheat danced and swayed under the caress of the wind, creating an enchanting expanse of grain that seemed to stretch endlessly.

Amidst this natural grandeur, Ethan's gaze shifted to the farmlands, where diligent farmers toiled with their hands and simple tools. They tenderly worked the soil, sowed seeds, and nurtured the crops that would eventually grace the tables of Dervin's Rest.

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As Ethan absorbed the tranquil scene, he couldn't help but contrast it with his former life in the concrete jungle of London. The ceaseless noise, towering buildings, and perpetual rush had been supplanted by a serene symphony of nature, where time moved at a slower pace and every moment stretched just a bit longer.

It was a place where the ebb and flow of the seasons dictated life's rhythm, where the labor of farmers bore sustenance for the community, and where the splendor of the natural world was revered and treasured.

[https://i.imgur.com/Bq6eAQJ.jpg]

In that moment, a sense of tranquility washed over Ethan, offering him a peace he hadn't felt since leaving the mountain workshop. This was a different kind of peace, one that embraced connection rather than solitude.

The crunch of gravel behind him drew his attention, and he turned to find a young blonde woman. She possessed undeniable beauty, though Ethan deemed her too young to stir any romantic interest. The young woman regarded him curiously and inquired, "Are you the stranger? Why are you here?"

Ethan nodded politely. "I'm Ethan, and I'm here to collaborate with Lork on a project."

She tilted her head slightly. "I can hear him working on something, but it seems you're just hanging around."

Ethan winced. "Yes, well, I'm apparently not very adept at woodworking. I designed the plans, though, and Lork wanted me here in case he needed any clarification."

The woman smiled faintly. "Father can be quite the perfectionist."

Ethan shrugged. "I wouldn't know, but I'll take your word for it. By the way, what's your name?"

She blushed slightly. "Apologies. I'm Milda. Lork is my father, and I was just returning from the market."

Ethan bowed politely, recalling lessons from his childhood about Japanese culture. "Pleased to meet you, Milda. I apologize for intruding."

Milda chuckled. "Sorry about the old man, he can be quite stubborn. Once he sets his mind on something, he charges ahead without considering others."

Ethan smiled. "I rather admire driven individuals, so I don't mind. I'm genuinely eager to see the finished design as well."

Milda glanced towards the barn and let out a sigh. "Well, could you perhaps bring him to the house for lunch? I'll start preparing something. Please, join us, Ethan."

Ethan nodded with gratitude. "Thank you. I'll go find Lork."

Milda waved, and Ethan reentered the barn. Lork was busy attaching the axle to the wagon, and Ethan couldn't help but be impressed by the speed at which the man had prepared a new axle.

Ethan approached Lork and inquired, "Lork, how are you working so quickly? Shouldn't it have taken much longer?"

Lork grinned. "I'm a skilled carpenter, Ethan. It comes with its advantages."

Ethan pondered for a moment, then decided to delve further. "I see, but what kind of advantages allow you to be this efficient?"

Lork shrugged. "I have a few abilities like 'clean cut,' 'precision,' and 'lesser strength.' They significantly speed up the process. How do you not know these things?"

Ethan shrugged back. "I've only had basic jobs, nothing as advanced as yours."

Lork frowned. "Sure, okay. But this is common knowledge, Ethan. Where did you say you're from again?"

Ethan smiled. "I didn't say, but let's just say I'm not a local."

Lork chuckled. "Well, that's pretty obvious. Sorry, Ethan, but to us, you look quite different."

Ethan furrowed his brow. "Different? In what way?"

Lork shrugged, still wearing a smile. "Your black, silky hair, your distinct skin tone, and your slightly slanted eyes. You look unlike anyone I've ever met. Are you from from out east perhaps?"

Ethan realized that he hadn't even considered his appearance until now. He took after his mother in most aspects of his physical appearance. Having lived in Europe for most of his life, he rarely thought about such things. However, he now noticed that everyone he had seen in Dervin's Rest had a Scandinavian appearance—light skin, fair or light brown hair, and generally taller and larger than himself.

He shrugged at Lork. "I suppose I do look different, don't I?"

Lork laughed. "You're only just realizing that now?"

Raising an eyebrow, Ethan responded, "Well, I don't often gaze at myself in the mirror, do I? Anyway, Milda mentioned that lunch would be ready soon and asked me to fetch you."

Lork's face lit up. "Lunch? Why didn't you say so? Milda cooks up amazing food, Ethan. Come, let's eat!"

Ethan followed Lork with a bemused expression. He was beginning to appreciate the big man. There was a refreshing honesty about him, and Ethan had a fondness for genuine individuals. Too often, people put on a fake facade, concealing their true selves for various reasons. Ethan had a tendency to get into trouble for speaking his mind, as he found it illogical to do otherwise.

Humming happily, Lork led the way, and together they headed to savor Milda's home-cooked meal. This day was shaping up to be quite enjoyable.