Six days after Corvis and Tessia Eralith's tenth birthday.
Corvis Eralith
"Corvis, what are you doing?"
I jumped from the chair of my bedroom, the sudden voice of my grandfather cutting through my concentration like a blade through silk. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I spun around, nearly knocking over the inkwell on my desk.
"Grandpa! Don't sneak up on me!" I yelled, my voice cracking with surprise.
I threw my arms over my desk, shielding my work with my body, and shot a look of fake betrayal at Berna, my Guardian Bear, who was currently busy munching on... a sword. The sight of her massive jaws working the blade like it was a piece of jerky was almost enough to make me forget my panic.
"You have bribed Berna?!" I asked, my voice a mix of accusation and disbelief.
Grandpa raised his hands in mock surrender, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Guilty," he said, his gaze drifting past me to my desk. "So, will you tell your beloved Grandpa what his beloved grandson was doing?"
"Just... designing things," I said, a bit embarrassed as I shoved some blank paper above my work. The movement was too quick, too deliberate, and I knew he had seen it. But I couldn't help myself. The game I was crafting was too personal, too fragile to be exposed before it was ready.
I was actually trying to build a Dicathian version of Catan so that the Eralith family could have a board game we could all play together.
The idea had come to me in a moment of longing—a desperate wish for something normal, something that didn't involve war or politics or the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I had spent hours carving the wooden tiles, painting the resource cards, designing the rules.
"Come on, let me see!" Grandpa said, peeking over my desk and trying to move away the papers covering the hexes of the game board I had been designing.
His fingers were gentle, but insistent, and I didn't have the heart to fight him.
I let him see my work, watching as his eyes traced the intricate patterns I had carved into the wood. He took a couple of hexes in his hands, turning them over to catch the light. "Everbronze Rowan? Interesting choice."
"It's a light and nicely colored wood," I replied, a hint of pride creeping into my voice. "I like it."
"Yes, good choice," Grandpa said, nodding in approval. "But what are they for?"
"A game," I murmured, the words coming out softer than I intended. "I would like to make a game for us to play... as a family."
The words hung in the air, fragile and hopeful. I could feel Grandpa's gaze on me, and I knew he understood what I was really saying. He always understood.
"That must have been the nicest thing I have ever heard coming from you and Tessia," Grandpa said, sitting down on my bed while still studying the hex in his hand. "And what is the purpose of this game?"
"It's a bit complicated," I said, the excitement creeping back into my voice. "It's about building settlements, cities, and roads to connect them while settling the game board."
"A game about building cities, Corvis?" Grandpa asked, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "That's so much like you."
I felt a flush of warmth at his words, a rare moment of pride. I had been carving the pieces for hours—the hamlets, which represented the original settlements, and the cities, identical to the ones in the original Catan.
"Are those cards?" Grandpa asked, taking a prototype of the game cards I had been making. His fingers traced the edges of the paper, and I saw the faint smile that crossed his face.
"Yes, they represent the resources," I said, watching him study the card.
"Wood," Grandpa read, suppressing a laugh.
"What's the problem?" I asked, my voice defensive.
"Nothing, nothing," Grandpa denied, but as I stared at him, he sighed. "Did you draw them yourself?"
"Y-yes, I did," I replied, the admission making me feel suddenly self-conscious.
"What other resources do we have for our prosperous kingdom?" Grandpa asked in a teasing, but interested, tone. His eyes were warm, and I could tell he was genuinely curious.
"Other than wood," I started, taking each prototype card from the stack. "Apple, silk, whitestone, and amber."
"I don't know about apples, but..." Grandpa said, his voice thoughtful. "I think you nailed the best resources. Yes, maybe I would add iron, or other metals."
"Yes, maybe I should," I replied, already making a mental note.
Amber was meant to represent all those expensive ores, as amber was one of the most used materials for jewelry in Elenoir—both for nobles and commoners, as amber was far less expensive than all kinds of gems or precious metals. It was a resource that bridged the gap between the classes, a symbol of the shared wealth of our people.
"What is this strange pawn?" Grandpa asked, taking Catan's equivalent of the robber. He held it up to the light, his brow furrowed in curiosity.
"That's the bandit," I said. "It serves as an enemy for all players. When you score a certain number on the dice, you have to move it."
"A bandit, huh?" Grandpa asked, turning the piece over in his hands.
I had spent a lot of time thinking about what to make of the robber. At first, I had wanted to make it a Vritra, or a Caduchicilist like Nylith, but I had decided against it.
I didn't want to think about those things even while I played with my family. A bandit felt like the most obvious choice. It was a common plague for Elenoir, for Sapin, and for Darv too. It was a threat that everyone understood, a shared enemy that could unite even the most divided of players.
"So, how is it played?" Grandpa asked, his interest clearly piqued.
"Shortly, you have to spend these resources to build hamlets and cities, then connecting them with roads, and the first to make 10 points in a single round wins," I said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "You can also get points by having the longest road or the largest army."
"Where are the troops?" Grandpa asked, looking around my desk. "I am an expert in that, I can help you."
"I didn't know how to name them," I admitted. "Knight felt too simplistic."
"Scouts, perhaps?" Grandpa proposed. "They are the only soldiers of the Treeful Phalanx present in every single hamlet of Elenoir."
"That's—that's genius!" I exclaimed, the idea clicking into place. "Thanks, Grandpa."
I had also thought about naming them Royal Police or Leafguard, but the former was only present in Zestier, while the latter only in Elenoir's three main cities.
For that, I had reasoned that Unravelers could have been a good choice, but scouts was perfect for a game like Catan. It was a name that carried weight, a reminder of the quiet vigilance that kept our people safe.
"Anyway, what's the name of this game?" Grandpa asked, his voice gentle.
Oh, right. I couldn't name it Settlers of Catan—it would be unfitting for Dicathen. "Settlers of Everbosk," I said, the name sounding good in my mouth. Everbosk, the Verticil name for Epheotus, gave that mythical feeling that was the origin of the name Catan itself.
"What a nice name," Grandpa said. "Settling Everbosk? Quite the dream you have, Little One."
I wondered how Epheotus looked like. The novel had only shown a few parts of the Asuran continent: Mount Geolus and the surrounding cities, the city of Ecclesia, and Battle's End.
How would the lands of the Hamadryads look? Those of the Sylphs? The Titans? The Basilisks? Perhaps one day I would be able to visit Epheotus—I didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
"I leave you to your game," Grandpa said, crouching to take the sword from Berna's jaws. My bond growled in protest, her massive form shifting to protect her prize.
"You don't want to eat it whole, right?" Grandpa asked, shocked. "I gave this to you to nibble, not to eat."
Berna jealously protected the sword with her paws, putting herself on top of her treat like a dragon guarding its hoard. The sight was so absurd that I couldn't help but laugh.
"Bah, sword-eating bear," Grandpa scoffed, shaking his head as he left me alone with my work.
I sat back down at my desk, the weight of his words settling over me like a warm blanket. Settlers of Everbosk. It was a game about building, about hope, about the dream of a better world. It was everything I wanted for my family, for my people and for Dicathen.