Grandmaster Keios waited alongside a fuming Master Shard. She exchanged venomous glares with a smiling Bug. Aaron, Lyra, and Bug bowed to the Grandmaster at the appropriate depths for their respective stations.

"Well, I see you know how to make an entrance, Champion," Grandmaster Keios smiled with a glint in his eyes.

Aaron smiled tightly. More of a trapdoor, to be honest.

"Grandmaster, it was nothing but a squabble between the mages assigned to my unit." Aaron's eyes flickered from side to side. Bug winked at Shard, who ground her teeth. The Grandmaster nodded sagely and stroked his beard.

"Is that what it was?" He motioned the group to follow him out of the city.

They left the bustle of the bastion gates behind in silence. Aaron noticed the looks the crowd gave him. Inclined heads and whispered prayers were kept at bay by the weapons of the guards.

Strange how fast I got used to this.

As they walked into the orchards and fields, the Grandmaster made idle conversation, quizzing Aaron on matters of social intrigue. Lyra was integrated into the discourse, whereas everyone else was studiously ignored. After a hike that lasted nearly a tenth cycle—as the locals called two hours—they crossed a rustic stone bridge over a creek and entered an orchard of blooming roses.

Grandmaster Keios made an expansive gesture. "Roseberry Cove, your new estate."

Aaron took in the sweetly fragrant air and looked around. The road stretched forward toward a small mansion of two stories. He stood in the middle of the blooming roseberry bushes, tended by the Bonded. Aaron took a deep breath.

I own an estate now. Am I going to make a scene or accept what the local norms are? I can just make sure that I treat the Bonded well. The mage children are what matters for now.

To the left, a wild forest of cedar, oak, and cypress grew on a steep mountain slope. The other hillside of the cove was much gentler, covered in quince and olive orchards according to the terrain's slope. Behind the mansion, a gentle slope went down to a dock where the slow creek met the silver-blue lake. Potatoes and herbs occupied the higher reaches, and oxen grazed at the lakeshores.

"You seem to like it, Champion?" A smiling Grandmaster Keios broke Aaron's reverie.

Aaron nodded. This place is huge.

"Do I own the entire valley?"

"All the land you can see. Come, let us meet the majordomo. He will be able to answer all your questions."

They continued down the earthen road to the estate. Ivy covered an old rain wall as Aaron studied his new house.

Well, at least getting real estate is significantly easier here. He grinned. I always wanted a plot of land for myself.

On the way, he noticed a waterfall where the river divided the lower part of the estate. Several Bonded worked under the oversight of a pale-skinned man with golden hair. Boxes of quinces stood to one side, the Bonded pulped them in wooden mortars and poured the pulp through a sieve over a barrel. A rich, fruity smell with a sour note permeated the air. Aaron studied the faces of the—no, his—workers.

They seemed to be in high spirits. Ten Bonded of all ages, two Favored, and three citizens worked together in harmony.

Grandmaster Keios held up a hand before Aaron could walk further onto the plaza. "Observe for a while. Wise is the leader who understands before he alters."

Aaron nodded but then frowned slightly. "So, when is the point where one knows enough to try out new things?"

The rhetorician stroked his beard and looked at Lyra. She inclined her head and studied the workers.

"It is beyond the point where one believes one is capable of doing it. Confidence is the curse of the ignorant. One should not remove a fence unless one has grasped why it was placed there."

Aaron shook his head with a long exhale. Chesterton's Fence? Really?

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"You disagree? What method do you believe is correct?"

"Limited experimentation. Only through rethinking the new can we overcome the weight of what accumulates and stagnates over time. We humans are lazy creatures and tend to wrap ourselves in greater and greater layers of habits and routines."

Aaron's eyes met the young, then the old Purist in turn.

"And time blurs all lines. Accepting the nature of the present as the wisdom of the past ignores the issue of decay and entropy."

The rhetorician nodded. "So, how would you go about altering this place—if you believe that so much dirt has found its way into the routines running it?"

Lyra gently touched his wrist and Aaron felt the social engineering guide tingle slightly. He frowned and looked around.

What's the setup here? Throw me an estate and let my naive ideas ruin the place? And then discredit me by showing how I was unable to manage a single estate and shouldn't be in charge of a state?

Aaron looked around. "Firstly, I would give those working here a stake in the success of the estate. A share of the success of their work."

Lyra, Shard, and several of the guards sharply took in breaths. Grandmaster Keios motioned for Lyra to speak with a smug smile.

"That sounds like Kyrapolitan corporations. And how would you even do it? You are noble, and thus banned from enterprise and industry."

Aaron stared at her. "Why is it that nobility is banned from that? Wouldn't it make sense to have those you believe best lead the industry of the polis?"

Shard sniffed and shook her head. "A noble is made by their management of the land and their martial skill. Pursuit of the lesser arts would corrupt their mind until they become decadent like our enemies."

Aaron shook his head. Is this why they are so insistent on class and status? Their economy is such a regulated mess they each jealously guard their niche? I need another angle.

He looked around. At the Bonded crushing fruit. At the rough linen that everyone wore. Why are they using mortar and pestle to create juice?

Aaron walked forward and examined the process. The workers used a piece of favoring as a primitive press.

But this is so inefficient.

He looked at the pile of leftovers, which was collected in barrels as well.

I bet a proper press could dry that stuff out. And then use a reservoir to augment muscle power.

He walked up to the man who was obviously in charge. "Excuse me…"

Grandmaster Keios stepped up behind Aaron. "Majordomo Chil'kasano. This is your new master, Aaron Hellionis Ultima Melas, the Champion of the Weaver."

The work stopped. Everyone froze. Everyone but the majordomo fell to one knee.

The old man looked Aaron in the eyes, as if studying something at the bottom of a lake for a few heartbeats. Then he bowed deeply at the hip.

"I greet the Champion. May the Mother bless our land under his guidance."

"May the Weaver's thread weave a tapestry of success between the two of you," said the Grandmaster, completing the ritual phrase.

Aaron looked over the crowd and spoke to them in a formal tone. "You may rise. I am happy to have such workers at my estate. It is a place whose beauty speaks to your diligence."

The group murmured short prayers before continuing with the juice-making. The furtive glances did not escape Aaron's attention.

Majordomo Chil'kasano left the workers to their devices and joined Aaron. "If it pleases Anax, I would show him the estate."

Aaron nodded, and the whole procession followed the Majordomo. The fields of olives, quinces, and roses were beautiful, yet similar in layout. Apparently the local soil was just right for the rose fruits. The extract from the petals and the tea from the fruit were valuable commodities.

Aaron observed the tools and devices the locals used.

At least their wheelbarrows aren't terrible. And they've got scythes. Guess that's a technology that doesn't get lost.

Soon they found themselves near the forest. Aaron studied the old growth trees.

"We have the oxen and pigs graze among the roots," the majordomo explained.

Aaron nodded and studied the trees. "Do we use the wood?"

"Mostly as a source for firewood on occasion. The soil needs the forest, lest it become unstable."

Aaron nodded in appreciation as he kissed his dreams of a timber empire goodbye.

They moved on to a small village—the housing of the workers. Children ran around as women took care of frying fragrant food at food stands. Aaron was offered some skewers and gladly accepted.

Not sure if I'll ever get used to the locals combining meat and quinces for pretty much everything. He licked his lips as he finished the skewer. It's not bad, though.

Next, Aaron stopped by an old woman who was weaving. The contraption was based on a board as a weight and used a manual skiff for weaving the woof into the warp.

Aaron frowned. "Excuse me, but is this really how all fabric is produced?"

"Of course, young master. How else would you go about it? And what else would old crones like me fill the eve of their life with?" She petted the cloth and looked over at the playing horde of children with a smile.

Aaron smiled in turn and looked at the waterfall. If they have working wheelbarrows, a watermill should be doable. Let's see how far I can get in establishing mechanical labor.

Here comes industrialization, dear slave owners.

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