Darian hunched over the wooden table in his small workshop, the late afternoon sun casting streaks of light across scattered tools and half-finished gadgets. His current project—a rudimentary irrigation system—had consumed his thoughts for weeks. With the right combination of enchanted filters and mechanical pumps, the system could draw water from the nearby river and distribute it across the village's farmlands, saving countless hours of labor.
He adjusted a small gear and tapped the brass tubing with a wrench. The device sputtered, hissed, and then began to hum. A faint stream of water gushed from the spout, spraying into a bucket with surprising force.
"Yes!" Darian whispered, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.
"Darian!" Mira's voice rang out, startling him. He turned to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a smirk on her face.
"Does knocking mean nothing to you?" he asked, wiping his hands on a rag.
"Not when I know you'll ignore me," she retorted, stepping inside. "Thad said you were hiding again. What are you working on this time?"
Darian gestured to the device, explaining its purpose. Mira listened with wide eyes, occasionally poking at the contraption with a curious finger.
"You're really leaving your mark on this village," she said softly. "Even when you're gone, people will still have all these things you've built."
Darian's smile faltered. "If they don't tear them apart first."
"They won't," Mira said firmly. "They'll remember you. I'll make sure of it."
---
That evening, the familiar rattle of wagon wheels echoed through the village square. Darian looked up from his workbench to see the traveling merchant pulling his cart to a stop near the well. The merchant hopped down, his face breaking into a toothy grin as he spotted Darian.
"Well, if it isn't Green Hollow's little genius!" the merchant bellowed. "What marvels have you cooked up this time?"
Darian walked over, slightly embarrassed by the attention. "Just something to help with the fields," he said, gesturing to the irrigation system.
The merchant whistled. "You've got a gift, boy. Mark my words—you're going to make waves in Solis City."
"Maybe," Darian said, lowering his gaze. "Or maybe I'll be a nobody there."
"Nonsense," the merchant said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Brains like yours? The city folk will eat it up. Just don't forget us little people when you're famous."
Darian chuckled, but his thoughts lingered on the merchant's words long after the man had moved on.