"Have Simisear help make bricks?"
Ryan blinked in surprise.
Lucien nodded. "Yes. Simisear is a Fire-type magical beast, it can breathe incredibly hot flames. I'd like to hire her to help the territory fire clay bricks for construction."
He paused for a moment before adding, "In exchange, she'll receive extra food and candy as payment."
From what Lucien remembered of the original lord's provisions, the old king had sent him out with ample supplies, food, tools, and a small chest of gold coins.
But gold had little meaning here. In this remote, undeveloped territory without markets or taxes, wealth wasn't measured in coins but in survival, food, shelter, and warmth.
So he offered what truly mattered: sustenance and comfort.
"I'll talk to her about it," Ryan said, scratching the back of his head.
Lucien smiled faintly. "As you will."
With that, Ryan left the Lord's Hall and returned to his cabin.
When he opened the door, he found the Pokémon already waiting inside, Simisear in front, Pidove perched on a stool, Foongus and Pikachu by the fireplace.
For a moment, Ryan just stood there, taking it in. He finally had a home.
A genuine sense of belonging rose in his chest, warm and unfamiliar.
That night, he prepared a hearty dinner for his Pokémon companions, fish soup, fresh fruit, and soft bread. The small cabin glowed with firelight and laughter.
After they'd eaten, Ryan turned to Simisear.
"By the way, Simisear," he began, "His Highness Lucien asked me to see if you'd like to help out around the territory."
"Bak?" Simisear tilted her head, puzzled.
"Lord Lucien wants to hire you," Ryan explained patiently. "He'd like you to use your fire to help harden the clay bricks we've been making. And as payment, he'll make sure you get extra food, and candy, too."
He added quickly, "But if you don't want to, that's fine. No one will force you."
He didn't try to guilt her with talk of the territory's struggles. He didn't want her to feel pressured.
But Simisear wasn't foolish. She'd seen the people here working hard in the cold, doing their best to survive. She'd seen the gratitude in Ryan's eyes when they'd saved the sick Pikachu.
After a moment, she looked over at the small mouse Pokémon curled by the fire.
"Bak…" she murmured softly.
Then she nodded once, firmly.
"Bak!"
"You agree?" Ryan asked, hardly daring to believe it.
"Bak!" Simisear replied with a bright nod.
The next morning, brick-making officially began, with Simisear at the heart of the process.
As the lord of the territory, Lucien personally came to oversee the operation.
The workers first mixed and kneaded the processed clay, pressing it into square molds. Each brick was carefully shaped, then set aside to dry under the pale winter sun. When ready, they stacked the hardened blocks inside a dome-shaped kiln that had been built the previous week.
Finally, it was Simisear's turn.
She stepped forward, inhaled deeply, and with a roar, a jet of searing flame burst from her mouth, igniting the kiln in a blaze of orange heat.
The fire licked at the dome, glowing brighter and brighter until the air itself shimmered. Inside, the clay bricks began to change color, the minerals reacting to the intense temperature, transforming dull brown into a rich, molten red.
Morik, the blacksmith, watched in awe, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold air.
When the final bursts of fire faded, he waved a hand. "That's enough, Simisear!"
The flames dimmed. The kiln glowed faintly like a heart of magma.
Morik turned to Lucien, eyes wide with satisfaction. "Your Highness, the firing is complete. We only need to let them cool for a day or two."
Lucien nodded, pleased. "Good. Everyone, rest for now. We'll inspect the results tomorrow morning."
He then turned to Simisear with a faint smile. "As for our helper… see that she's rewarded properly."
By afternoon, a small wagon stopped before Ryan's cabin, loaded high with food, fruit, and several crates of candy.
When the maid presented the goods, Simisear's jaw dropped.
"Bak?!"
So much food?!
The maid laughed softly, bowing politely. "These are from His Highness Lucien. He said he's deeply grateful for your hard work."
Simisear blinked, eyes wide as she stared at the shimmering mountain of fruit and sweets.
In the wild, she'd had to scavenge through half the forest just to find a handful of berries.
Now, all she'd done was breathe fire, and this was her reward?
Her expression melted into pure disbelief… then joy.
"Bak…" she murmured, almost dazed.
"His Highness Lucien is a very kind lord," Ryan said with a smile. "Go on, Simisear, you've earned this."
"Bak…"
Simisear's eyes softened. Touched by the gesture, she quietly made up her mind: she would work even harder for His Highness Lucien.
Nearby, Pidove and Foongus looked on in astonishment.
Could helping humans really earn so much food? Could they… help too?
Something small but profound stirred in their hearts.
Unbeknownst to Lucien, a new idea had begun to take root among the Pokémon: that cooperation, not fear, might lead to a better life.
That night, a blizzard swept across the land.
The wind howled through the trees, scattering white snow in relentless waves.
Inside Lucien's cabin, the fire crackled, casting flickering light on the wooden walls.
Five Minccino were huddled by the window, their eyes wide with worry as they watched the swirling storm. Even Snivy, usually composed and aloof, flicked its tail anxiously.
Only Dratini seemed unbothered, coiled comfortably on Lucien's coat and sleeping soundly.
Elif entered quietly. "Your Highness, the blizzard has reached the outer valley," he reported, concern lining his face.
Lucien nodded. "I expected as much."
Thankfully, they had prepared well. The wooden cabins they'd built were sturdy enough to withstand the wind, and there was plenty of food and firewood stockpiled for the long winter.
December had passed; it was now mid-January, the coldest stretch of the year.
"Send word to everyone," Lucien said after a moment. "Make sure the fires stay lit in every home and that no one risks illness from the cold. When the snow hits hardest, have all mining suspended until it clears."
He glanced out at the storm. "Just another month or so, and winter will break. We only need to endure a little longer."
"Yes, Your Highness," Elif replied.
Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the settlement in white.
'Auspicious snow brings a bountiful harvest,' Lucien remembered the old saying.
Watching the endless drift of flakes, he allowed himself a small smile.
"Then may next year's harvest be a generous one," he murmured softly, the firelight warm against the glass.