The morning light broke pale and cold, stretching over the ridges east of camp. Smoke from the forge curled lazily into the air, carrying the scent of coal and steel. The settlement was stirring earlier than usual, laborers shouting over carts, miners gathering supplies, and engineers rolling out half, frozen plans for the next expansion.
Near the edge of the worksite, Varrin stood over a table layered with maps and mineral reports, the corners pinned down with bolts of ore. He didn't look up as Kain approached, spear resting across his shoulder as always.
"The ridge vein runs deeper than we thought," Varrin said, tracing the line of ink with a gloved finger. "Good yield. Enough ore to last years if we get the right setup."
Kain studied the rough sketch, then the distance marked in faded charcoal. "That far north puts it outside the current patrol perimeter."
"Which is why I need soldiers," Varrin said, glancing up. "Two squads to start. They'll secure the ridge while the rest of my people begin construction. Once the walls go up, it'll serve as a permanent base."
Kain nodded slowly. "A forward outpost tied directly to supply shipments."
"Exactly. The Empire keeps sending convoys. They want return loads of ore, not excuses."
For a moment, the only sound was the soft scrape of boots on frozen ground. Then Kain leaned forward, studying the map more closely. "Send one squad from the existing guard rotation," he said. "I'd also recommend you take Moss, Dole, and Lyra. They know how to handle the field and work well under pressure."
Varrin raised a brow. "You're recommending them specifically?"
"They've proven themselves. They can hold their ground if the ridge draws attention," Kain said. His voice was steady, practical. "They'll keep the miners alive long enough for you to get those walls built."
Varrin folded his arms. "And what about you?"
"I'll move my command there once it's established. Best to keep coordination close," Kain replied. He shifted his grip on the spear, eyes narrowing toward the distant hills. "A soldier's place is where the work is."
Varrin gave a curt nod. "Fair enough. I'll have them briefed before sunset."
The two men shared a look of silent understanding, one focused on building, the other on defending. Then Kain turned away, boots crunching through the frost as he crossed the square.
Moss was near the stables, tightening Bran's harness while the chocobo let out a soft kweh and shook frost from its feathers. Dole sat nearby on a crate, nursing a lukewarm tin of coffee, while Lyra checked over her medical satchel.
Kain stopped beside them, his shadow falling long across the dirt. "Varrin's setting up a new forward base on the ridge," he said. "He's sending two squads. One of them's yours."
Moss straightened, blinking against the sunlight. "You want us to go."
"I recommended you," Kain corrected. "There's a difference. You've got experience out there, and I trust your judgment."
Dole sighed, lowering his tin. "You know we're barely back from the last trip, right?"
"You'll have miners with you this time," Kain replied, tone dry. "They'll make plenty of noise to keep the beasts away."
That earned a small laugh from Lyra. "I'll pack extra bandages," she murmured.
Kain looked between them, his expression unreadable. "Once the ridge is stable, I'll be stationed there. The new base will need dependable people to keep it running. If you choose to stay on, you'll have a place."
Moss hesitated. "You're not ordering us?"
"No," Kain said, resting his spear across his shoulder again. "Just telling you where good soldiers belong."
He turned and left without another word, the metallic clink of his armor fading into the din of the camp.
By late afternoon, the settlement was alive with motion. Wagons creaked under crates of supplies, engineers shouted for rope and nails, and the smell of coal thickened as the forge ran nonstop. Word spread quickly, two squads leaving by dusk to secure the ridge.
Dole hoisted his pack and gave Moss a sidelong glance. "Guess we're back at it."
Moss adjusted Bran's reins, gaze distant toward the northern hills. "Guess we are."
Bran kwehed softly, stamping at the frozen dirt. The sound was swallowed by the wind, and for a moment, the frost shimmered faintly along the path ahead, as if marking their way forward.
The sun dipped low, and the small convoy formed at the north gate. The ridge awaited, another step into the wild, another settlement to carve from the earth.
Kain watched them go from the gate, silent but resolute. When Varrin joined him, he said quietly, "They'll do fine. Out here, the ones who keep moving tend to live longer."
Varrin only nodded. "Then let's hope they keep moving."