Out past the treeline, a slow-moving mass of people appeared.
Men, women, children, carts weighed down with food and baskets of fruit, even animals trudging behind.
The trees that once stood tall in these parts were now gone, used to build what he now called Ashborn Village.
From his vantage, he realized that there was quite a number of people coming towards him and they were most definitely in the hundreds.
The first group that arrived was a scholar looking older man supported by a young woman, they had two middle-age men who were obviously their guards.
The older man's demeanour carried an air of profound gravity, resilience and intellectual intensity.
His most defining features were his eyes... keen, observant and deeply thoughtful.
He had a long hair that was tied in a topknot and a thin beard common among ancient Han dynasty learned men.
Lucien stepped forward, assuming the older man was the leader. Lucien opened his mouth to speak, but the man approached and knelt before him.
"My Lord," he said, voice gravelled with age and exhaustion, "we are finally here... just as god said."
Lucien blinked. 'Just like god said?'
He was still turning those words in his mind when the man quickly added,
"We followed god's instruction to the letter, we left behind anything unnecessary for the journey. We took only what we could carry without affecting our travel. We also brought the farm animals just like god asked."
Lucien exhaled, slow and thoughtful. "I see... Very good. You did good following god's advice and he has built this sanctuary and brought me here to lead you."
He knew the voice they most likely heard was the artifact's voice but since they claimed it to be god then it was.
"What is your name?" Lucien asked.
"My name is Sima Qian, this is my daughter, Sima Ying and this are men I consider my sons, Yue Fie and Guan Yu."
He paused again, glancing at the man at this point he was sure this names were legendary names from Asia, he was going to ask more question when he paused and glanced at the other people lowly progressing towards the gate.
"We will talk later, for now we have to settle everyone..." Lucien paused and thought for a few seconds, "Do you have anyone among you who can read and write?"
"Yes, my Lord, I am a scholar" Sima Qian said at once.
"Good. Have people come forward one after the other. I want everyone registered before they enter. Name, age, skill. That's all. Once they're done, they shall be assigned house that fits their family size... nothing excessive. Understood?"
"Yes, my Lord," Sima Qian said again with a respectful bow.
"Good. Feel free to get a few other people to help you out. Yue Fie and Guan Yu get a few able-bodied men, I need a few things moved."
Not long after, a small group gathered around him, scribes and labourers alike, but Lucien was already struggling to keep a neutral face.
The smell... It hit him like a punch to the face. Sweat, dirt, days of travel without washing... it clung to them like rot to old wood.
He tried to endure it.
He really did.
But eventually, he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sharp breath.
"Once the registration is complete," he said, voice clipped, "every single one of you will wash up and change into clean clothes. god values cleanliness and so do I."
They all murmured a quiet "Yes, my Lord," some of them ducking their heads in shame.
Lucien led them to a nearby storage room, had them carry out chairs, tables, scrolls, and ink. They returned to the gate and quickly set up a crude registration station.
From a distance, Lucien watched them settle into their task, he gave a few orders.
When it seemed things were running smoothly, he left quietly, returning to the quiet interior of his wooden hall.
In the kitchen, he speared a piece of roasted meat from a clay dish, tossed it over the fire to warm, then ate in silence, washing it down with a tin cup of water.
Afterward, he climbed the stairs to his study, a bare room still waiting to be filled.
There, he sat at the desk and began to write. If this village was going to survive, they needed more than homes... they needed knowledge especially if he wanted to go beyond a simple village.
What's the first thing we need? he asked himself. The answer was immediate. The smell.
"Soap," he muttered, and began scribbling.
He wrote carefully, explaining the method in simple terms that even someone without formal education might understand.
Soap, he explained, was known to civilizations as far back as Babylon.
It was essential, not a luxury type, for maintaining hygiene and stopping the spread of disease.
The process, he detailed, required animal fat and wood ash. When heated together in the right proportions, they would react and form a usable soap.
Next, he turned to food. They had brought some with them, yes, and he had a lot in the granary but it would run out.
They needed to become self-sufficient quickly. He began writing about farming.
He described the idea of crop rotation, how planting the same thing over and over would drain the soil, and how rotating crops could restore it.
Then, he wrote about a method once used by Indigenous peoples... something called the Three Sisters: corn, beans, and squash planted together.
The corn would grow tall and strong, providing support for the beans to climb.
The beans would enrich the soil with nitrogen, and the squash would grow low and wide, shading the earth to prevent weeds and keep in moisture.
Following that, he wrote about composting. In ancient China and Egypt, farmers turned animal manure, scraps of vegetables, and fallen leaves into black, fertile soil.
He explained how they could build simple compost pits to accelerate the process, giving their crops a much better chance at thriving in these raw fields.
Each explanation was turned into a short, practical guide. It took him the entire day, with only a short pause for a drink of water.
When he finally stretched his back and set down the quill, the sky outside had turned a dusky orange.
He went back out to the gate just as the last names were being written down.
He nodded once and ordered the scrolls to be brought to his office.
He dismissed the workers to their homes, then stationed a few men at the gate for safety.
Before turning in, he called Sima Qian once more.
"Tomorrow morning, send me the leader of every group. We'll need to start organizing the village," he said.
"Yes my Lord." Sima Qian bowed and left.
Lucien returned home, reheated another piece of meat over the fire, and ate in silence. The quiet was almost too loud after the bustle of the day.
Then he climbed into bed, eyes already closing before his head even touched the pillow.