Leo’s return to Wayward was as uproarious as he feared. The entire village, which mostly consisted of people he didn’t know at this point, stopped everything they were doing to celebrate his return. It was exactly the opposite of what he wanted, of course. He just wanted to slip back in and pretend he’d never left, even though he knew that was quite impossible. Some reacted like Toman, but they were in the minority, and a meager feast was called together for later that night.
The feast might have been too strong a word. There was plenty of dried fish and bland root stew, which was more than enough for him. There was also some bread, though it had been created with light rather than grain. Still, Leo didn’t complain. He still couldn’t eat more than a few bites at a time without feeling completely full anyway.
The event was dominated by his presence, which was no surprise either since it was in his honor. He was peppered with questions and spent half the night making fruit for people on demand between telling stories about some of his adventures. He mentioned a couple of the giant monsters in passing, but mostly, he focused on how empty it was out there now that both the monsters and the men were gone.
“It’s like a new world,” he explained. “There aren’t even any goblins. It’s like the zombies ate them or something. We could go anywhere and do anything.”
“Why would we need to go anywhere?” Tara asked as she squeezed Regie’s hand tighter where she was sitting across the fire from him. “We’re building something right here.”
“You are,” he agreed, looking around.
The place really had come a long way. There was a thatched roof over every head now, and though some of those homes were still crowded with several families, it was only a matter of time before there was a cabin or a cottage built for everyone here. That would be an accomplishment in itself, even if it was a rather primitive one.
Soon, primitive houses would line crooked streets, and gardens and fields would stretch out into the distance. It wouldn’t be such a bad place.
What’s the next step, he wondered. Do we make bricks? Does anyone even know how to make bricks? He had no idea. He certainly had no idea. He was pretty sure they involved fire and clay, but after that—
“No, we are building something right, aren’t we,” Cynara said, correcting him very publicly.
“We are,” he agreed, a little chagrined. “I’m just saying that we could do anything.”
“We are doing anything,” Reggie agreed, looking back to his wife. “We’re building a new world.”
Leo didn’t comment on that because he wasn’t sure what to say. Instead, he was relieved when Toman finally asked, “So, do you think we’re the last people left in the whole world then?”
“Probably not,” Leo answered honestly. “The world is a big place. I’m sure there are other survivors hiding here and there just like we are.”
“I’m not hiding,” Toman answered defensively.
“We’re not,” Leo agreed, “But you know what I mean.” After that, Leo laid out what he thought had happened to everyone.
“It’s pretty clear that we lost, for starters,” he began. “Humans, I mean. If evil had lost, then there wouldn’t still be undead roaming around. They’d just be corpses. I think that the main body of the force continued north, gathering strength as it went. That’s the bad news. The good news is that since they purged the area of everything worst killing, there’s no reason to come back, so I think we’re safe.”
It wasn’t the most hopeful message he’d ever given, but it was honest, and it spurred a lot of discussion about whether they should or shouldn’t build a wooden palisade around Wayward. Most people thought they should, but even though Leo knew it was pointless, he went along with it, if only because it would make everyone sleep a little better.
That night, the spotlight only left him when Sam showed everyone her own small miracle. She’d been working with Mela while the others were talking, and inspired by the strawberries and apples that Leo had been making for everyone, they’d made wheat seeds.
“I noticed that when I bit into the apple, it still had seeds,” she explained, “So I thought, maybe we could plant them, and then it occurred to me that if we could create one kind of seed with the light, then we might be able to create another…”
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“That’s genius,” Leo said with a smile. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because it had nothing to do with a sword,” Cynara taunted.
Even he laughed at that, and the group of them spent the next couple of hours trying and sometimes failing to make seeds for many of the different plants they missed most. When he finally went to bed in the bunkhouse that had been built for the unmarried men hours later, Leo was tired, but they had started a small seed bank that might be able to give the people of Wayward one of the things they’d missed most when the next spring arrived: real agriculture, without all the messy gaps and missing cultivars they had currently.
That wasn’t why he lay there in the dark smiling, though; it was because the mocking grin that Cynara had given him lingered long after her words had faded and the bonfire had gone out. It wasn’t the reason he came back. He knew that. It should have been, though.
The next day, he got to work in earnest. He couldn’t use the light to create meat, so animals were out of the question, but they had found a few goats, sheep, and pigs in their wanderings, and small herds were slowly growing. Now, they could work on other things like wheat, barley, and potatoes, and soon, in a generation or two, things would be back to normal.
He left the more complicated aspects of how that would happen. Instead, he got to work, with shovel and axe, slowly carving away at the land in the ways that they needed. It wasn’t as enjoyable as carving up monsters, and no matter how he sharpened his axe head, it didn’t cleave through the wood the way his silvered blade sliced through his enemies, but it was what they needed, and now that the darkness had been banished for a good, long way in every direction, this was what the light needed now.
Some of the other men complained about feeling naked when they left their weapons at home. Leo never joined in those complaints, because he’d long since figured out how to banish and summon his own blade. He would never be unarmed as long as he could channel enough light to make it appear and disappear at will.
He never had need to summon it, though, because there was no longer anything left to fight. With the darkness gone, the light could finally grow. That meant more than fields heavy with wheat. That meant families and children. Those thoughts inevitably made him think of Cynara, which usually made Leo blush before he refocused on the task at hand.
Despite the fact that he worked with the men, he still somehow managed to run into her almost once or twice a day. That shouldn’t have been a surprise, of course. Wayward was a tiny village with just over two dozen structures that were only slowly evolving into something more. It was easier to see everyone at mealtime than it wasn’t. Still, something about those encounters always made him feel special. Like it was meant to be.
It was shortly after spring started in earnest that those feelings only blossomed further, though. Toman, of all people, had figured out a new trick to do with the light. Not wanting to be outdone, he’d spent days and nights in the field tending to their small crop of wheat and other staples. At first, this had been just to keep the animals away from the tiny precious plants, but as time went on, he discovered he could use the light to bless them, too.
The result was easy to see. Only a few weeks after the last frost, the fields were alive with plants that looked like they’d been growing for months. The celebrations that followed that discovery were even more joyous than Leo’s arrival. He wasn’t jealous, though. Well, he was jealous that he hadn’t thought of Toman’s idea first, but only a little.
After all, it only made sense. Plants needed light, and he and his friends were suffused with light, more or less. Why shouldn’t one go with the other? In the nights that followed their impromptu spring festival, they spent an evening wandering the fields singing the old hymns that Brother Faerbar had taught them all in what felt like a lifetime ago.
The fields outside their small village were a wide place that was many acres across, but even so, with so many of them weaving the light and blessing the plants, it looked like a swarm of fireflies had infested the whole area. It was like the stars had come down to dance, and they danced with them. It wasn’t a joyous moment like it had been during the recent festival. It wasn’t somber, either, though. It was more of a reverence.
Leo had dreamed of healing the world with the light, one sword stroke at a time, but in a way, this was better. This is what they should have been doing all along if only they’d known that they could or even that they should.
That night was almost as exhausting as combat for him, but by the time he was done, wheat was ripening, rows of maize were growing tall, and fruit trees had grown into fine saplings. If we do this every week or two, we might have two or even three harvests this year, he thought to himself as he slumped down against a tree and watched the few remaining fireflies dance in the fields beyond.
That was when Cynara found him. Even without the dancing lights, she was a vision of loveliness, but tonight, she had a glow about her, and when she sat down beside him and started talking to him, he could barely formulate a response to whatever it was she was saying.
It should have been the perfect end to a perfect evening as the two of them sat there. Instead, Leo had to go and ruin it by kissing Cynara. She didn’t complain. Quite the opposite, she kissed him back eagerly, like she’d been waiting for this moment for longer than he’d thought to do it. Still, after a long minute, when they finally came up for air, he couldn't help but feel like he’d changed everything with that one little thing.
He burned for her, but that wasn’t what he was supposed to be burning for, was it? Didn’t he have some greater purpose than to marry a beautiful girl and settle down?
He wasn’t sure. However, he gasped as he gazed into her beautiful glowing eyes, and he had a hard time trying to convince himself that they shouldn’t do that again.