Eirik couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone in the village was watching him as he walked down the main road, the Godhand still glowing faintly on his arm. Kael padded along beside him, occasionally glancing up with those mischievous, glowing eyes. The village had always been a small, tight-knit community where everyone knew everyone else’s business, and Eirik’s newfound “artifact” had clearly become the day’s topic of conversation.

Freya was still by his side, her expression a mix of concern and skepticism. “So, let me get this straight,” she began, as they made their way toward the village square. “You found this… Godhand… in the old temple, and now it’s supposed to help you rebuild the world?”

Eirik nodded, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “That’s what the voice in the void said.”

“The voice in the void,” Freya repeated, her tone flat.

“Yeah. It was… uh, really deep and kind of echoey. Definitely sounded like it knew what it was talking about.”

Freya sighed and rubbed her temples. “Eirik, do you realize how insane this sounds? Rebuilding the world? With an ancient gauntlet? This isn’t one of your strange inventions. This is real.”

Eirik could see why she was doubtful. He had spent years with his head in the clouds, dreaming up ridiculous machines that rarely, if ever, worked. But this time, something was different. The Godhand felt… right. Like it was a part of him.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Eirik admitted, glancing down at the glowing gauntlet. “But I’ve got to try. This might be my only chance to do something meaningful. Something that matters.”

Freya looked at him for a long moment before letting out a resigned sigh. “Alright. I’m not saying I believe all this, but I’ll help you. At least until you figure out how to use that thing without causing a disaster.”

Eirik grinned, relieved to have someone on his side. “Thanks, Freya. I’ll try not to blow anything up.”

Kael snickered beside them. “I wouldn’t make any promises if I were you.”

The village square was bustling with activity as usual, with merchants setting up their stalls and villagers going about their daily routines. But as Eirik and Freya approached, the buzz of conversation quieted, and all eyes turned toward them. Eirik could feel the weight of their stares, the unspoken doubts and judgments hanging in the air.

Old Man Gorrik, the village’s self-appointed leader, stepped forward, his cane tapping against the cobblestones. He was a gruff, no-nonsense type, with a perpetually furrowed brow and a voice that could silence a crowd with a single word.

“Eirik,” Gorrik began, his tone heavy with skepticism, “what’s all this nonsense I’m hearing about some magical gauntlet?”

Eirik swallowed nervously, glancing at Freya for support. “It’s not nonsense, Gorrik. This is the Godhand, an artifact from the old temple. It’s supposed to help me rebuild the world.”

Gorrik’s brow furrowed even deeper, if that was possible. “Rebuild the world? You? With that… thing?”

Eirik took a deep breath. “Yes, me. I know I’ve made mistakes in the past, but this time is different. I’ve been given a chance to make things right, to do something that really matters.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Gorrik eyed him for a long moment before shifting his gaze to the Godhand. “And what exactly are you planning to rebuild, then? Because if you’re thinking of starting with this village, I’d rather you didn’t burn it down.”

Eirik opened his mouth to respond, but Kael beat him to it, stepping forward with a toothy grin. “We’re starting small, of course. Something to show you all that Eirik’s got what it takes to wield the Godhand. How about a little challenge?”

Gorrik raised an eyebrow. “A challenge?”

Kael nodded, his eyes glinting with mischief. “There’s a well at the edge of the village that’s been dry for years. If Eirik here can restore it and make it better than before, you’ll know he’s serious.”

Gorrik considered this for a moment before giving a curt nod. “Alright then. Fix the well, and we’ll see what you can do. But if you mess this up, Eirik, there’ll be consequences.”

Eirik gulped. “Right. No pressure.”

Freya placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got this, Eirik. Just… try not to overthink it.”

Eirik smiled weakly. “Yeah, easier said than done.”

Kael led the way to the old well, which was situated at the far edge of the village, near the forest. The stone structure was crumbling, with weeds growing through the cracks and the wooden bucket long since rotted away. It had been years since anyone had drawn water from it.

Eirik studied the well, feeling the familiar tug of uncertainty in his gut. But as he focused on the task at hand, the Godhand began to glow brighter, and a blueprint formed in his mind—a new well, reinforced with stone, equipped with a sturdy crank and bucket, and even a small roof to keep out the elements.

“Alright,” Eirik murmured, more to himself than to the others. “I can do this.”

He raised the Godhand, letting the blueprint guide his movements. The ground around the well rumbled as new stones emerged from the earth, fitting themselves into place. The old, cracked stones were replaced with smooth, solid ones, forming a strong and stable base. A new crank and bucket appeared, attached to a wooden beam that arched over the well, and a small, shingled roof grew from the stones, covering the structure.

Eirik watched in awe as the well transformed before his eyes, the Godhand’s power flowing through him like a river. It was as if the gauntlet knew exactly what to do, and he was simply along for the ride.

When the light finally faded, the well stood tall and proud, a stark contrast to the dilapidated structure it had been moments before. Eirik felt a surge of pride as he stepped back to admire his work.

The villagers, who had gathered around to watch, murmured in amazement. Even Gorrik seemed impressed, though he tried to hide it behind a stern expression.

“Well, I’ll be,” Gorrik muttered, tapping his cane against the new stones. “It’s solid work, I’ll give you that. But does it draw water?”

Eirik hesitated, realizing he hadn’t actually checked that part yet. He glanced at Kael, who nodded encouragingly.

Taking a deep breath, Eirik grasped the crank and began to turn it. The bucket descended into the well with a soft splash, and when Eirik pulled it back up, it was brimming with clear, fresh water.

A cheer went up from the crowd, and Eirik couldn’t help but grin. He had done it. He had actually done it.

Freya clapped him on the back, a proud smile on her face. “Not bad, Eirik. Not bad at all.”

Gorrik gave a reluctant nod. “Alright, boy. You’ve proven you can handle that gauntlet. But don’t go getting any ideas. One well doesn’t mean you can fix everything.”

Eirik nodded, still riding the high of his success. “Of course, Gorrik. One step at a time.”

But as the crowd began to disperse, Eirik’s thoughts turned to the larger task ahead. Rebuilding the world was no small feat, and the well was just the beginning. He would need to learn more, to master the Godhand’s power, if he was going to make any real difference.

Kael, sensing his thoughts, nudged his leg. “You did good, kid. But there’s a long road ahead. Ready to get started?”

Eirik smiled down at the spirit. “Yeah. Let’s see what else we can do.”

As they left the well behind and began walking toward the forest, Eirik felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. He had taken his first step, but the journey ahead was still shrouded in mystery. There were ancient ruins to explore, forgotten gods to appease, and a world to rebuild—one stone at a time.

And somewhere, in the depths of the forest, something was stirring. A force that had been dormant for centuries was awakening, drawn by the power of the Godhand. Eirik’s journey was just beginning, and the challenges he would face were far greater than he could ever imagine.

But for now, he was ready to face them, one step at a time.