The sun had barely crested the distant hills when Nova stood at the edge of Thelara's new marketplace, gazing over the sprawling town that had sprung up from ruins and dreams. The sandstone roads gleamed softly in the morning light, carriages rolled with steady rhythm, and the air hummed with voices—traders, villagers, children, scholars. Yet Nova's eyes were distant.
He had seen this before—in another life, another world. But that world was paved in glass and steel, humming with electricity, comfort, and endless distractions. Here, despite the magic, the people still suffered in ways his old world had long since solved.
It was time to bring the future here.
"Room temperature regulation," Nova muttered to himself, drawing glances from Gerren and Kael, who walked beside him. "We can't have people sweltering in summers or freezing during the bitter winters. We need a stable environment indoors—homes, schools, even taverns."
Gerren scratched his chin. "Magic stones can warm a place, but they're expensive and burn out."
Nova smiled faintly. "That's why we won't rely on magic."
They reached the Master Builder's guild, a thick stone hall ringed by scaffolding. Inside, rough blueprints were scattered, and a dozen burly men were shaping beams of wood with enchanted saws. Nova called the head builder, a stoic man named Bramwood, who had overseen most of Thelara's new architecture.
"I've got a new idea," Nova said, rolling up his sleeves.
He knelt on the floor and began to sketch with chalk—two walls, layers of clay and stone in between, ventilation holes, and an underground channel system. "We're going to use passive insulation. Layered walls with clay, straw, and stone. They trap air, slow heat transfer. Add chimneys with vent caps that create natural air circulation when it's hot. In winter, the trapped air keeps warmth in."
Bramwood grunted. "Like a breathing house."
"Exactly."
He then showed them an even more advanced trick from his past: thermal mass flooring. He directed builders to lay thick stone tiles under which channels could run, heated by warm water or fire on the coldest days. These stones would slowly radiate heat through the night.
"And we'll plant trees close to the homes," Scarlet added as she entered the guildhall. "The roots will shield the foundation, and the shade will cool the roof."
"Good idea," Nova said, his eyes warming. "Let's make Thelara the first city of balance—between nature and human comfort."
Three days later, the first "climate-tuned" house was ready. The villagers stood in awe as the home held a cool, gentle breeze despite the rising summer heat. Mothers wept in relief; no more restless, sweating babies. Old men leaned into the walls and marveled at how warm they remained long into the cool night.
But Nova wasn't done.
Light.
It had always symbolized hope to him. In his childhood, the flickering bulb in his small apartment meant warmth, safety, a barrier between him and the dark streets.
Now, in a world of magic, torches and lanterns still ruled the night. Dangerous, flickering, dim.
Nova stood beneath a post in the central square. "Scarlet, bring me the crystalized sunstone ore. And Mira, I need the blackroot resin and a few of those copper channels the miners pulled out last week."
The villagers gathered in curiosity as Nova assembled a strange construct—a sunstone core embedded in a globe of clear glass, held by blackroot resin, and looped with thin copper spirals like veins. With a sharp whistle, Nova called down Kael.
"Throw that spark crystal at the core," Nova ordered.
Kael shrugged and obeyed. The moment the charged crystal struck the copper loop, it discharged a controlled pulse of electricity through the resin and into the sunstone. The orb flickered, then glowed steadily—soft golden light pouring into the square.
A hush fell.
Children gasped. A merchant dropped a bundle of silk.
"By the Ancients…" Bramwood whispered.
Scarlet stepped beside Nova, awed. "This isn't magic, is it?"
"No. This is science." Nova's voice was quiet but proud. "The sunstone holds light when exposed to solar energy. The copper spiral and resin work like conductors. It's imperfect, but it'll work for years without flame or spell."
With the help of the builders and adventurers, Nova set up dozens of these Sun Orbs throughout Thelara—along the roads, within taverns, over market stalls, and by every gate. At night, Thelara no longer went dark. It shimmered like a constellation fallen to the earth.
And that shimmer gave birth to another thought.
Nova stood by the riverbank, watching children play. They laughed and chased dragonflies, but when he called out a simple math question, they blinked.
Not one knew how to answer.
His smile faded. "They need more than light. They need knowledge."
That night, Nova summoned Scarlet, Mira, Gerren, Kael, and Lio—the village's now-busy Accountant.
"We're building a school."
They looked at him in surprise.
"Not just a place to read scrolls," Nova continued. "A true place of learning. Reading, writing, numbers, logic, ethics, geography, magic theory, construction science... Even arts and crafts."
Mira's eyes widened. "You'd give that to everyone?"
"Yes. Every child. Peasant or noble. Boy or girl. Knowledge should not be locked away."
Gerren grinned. "Then we'll need a dozen halls."
"No," Lio interjected, pushing up his glasses. "One great campus. Then divide into five smaller halls. Let them focus on different subjects."
Scarlet leaned in. "Let me help organize the etiquette and diplomatic courses. If children are to lead someday, they must do so with grace."
Nova nodded. "And I'll handle math and engineering. Kael, combat theory?"
The gruff warrior gave a rare smile. "You read my mind."
In the weeks that followed, Nova oversaw the construction of the Academia of Thelara—a beautiful structure nestled near the central hill. Built of polished stone, engraved pillars, and flowering vines trained to run across its arching roof.
Five great halls rose from its courtyard:
Hall of Lore for literature, history, and languages.
Hall of Numbers for arithmetic, geometry, and logic.
Hall of Nature for biology, geography, and basic healing.
Hall of Artistry for drawing, sculpture, and creativity.
Hall of Valor for martial training and discipline.
Villagers cried tears of pride as their children, dressed in simple cloaks marked with house sigils, entered the halls for the first time.
Nova stood watching from the high balcony, Scarlet at his side.
"Are you happy?" she asked.
He didn't answer at first. His eyes followed a small girl with tangled hair as she ran toward the Hall of Lore, clutching a wax tablet. A boy followed her, holding a wooden training sword.
Finally, Nova said, "Not yet. But I'm getting there."