Dominic cracked his eyes open the next morning and immediately regretted not replacing the curtains in the bedroom before going to bed.
"Roll back on your side, you were blocking the sun." Alexis complained.
Dominic chuckled and pulled the blanket over her head. "We should get up and get started on the to-do list."
Alexis sighed. "Alright, but only because I know that it needs to be done. I will start with the house and yard area, you head to the surrounding farms and the village to see what is salvageable and make a plan to get it rebuilt."
Dominic nodded. He needed to see the sights for himself, and inspect some of the houses, as they might still have valuable items inside if they hadn’t been looted.
His parents weren’t the only ones in town that specialized in magical devices. They were more generalized in their work, but there was a smithy in town, and a magitech carriage repairman next to the Inn and Tavern.
Those were standard for nearly every village in Wavemates, and they were especially important in the border villages a decade ago, when Cygnia was still adapting to mostly magitech transportation.
Not all the convoys would have a skilled repairman with them, so they would need to stop and get parts made, or ask advice from a carriage maker on the specialty parts that didn’t usually break.
But the problem was just as bad for Wavemates convoys headed into Cygnia at the time, as they were simply unable to get parts that they weren’t carrying, and had to improvise until they could limp home.
So, border towns could make a killing off damaged caravans if they had skilled workers.
Putting off the inevitable, Dominic headed for the village first.
The houses didn’t actually look too bad. About half of them had been gutted by fire, but the stone walls were still partially intact. But the others looked like they hadn’t been touched at all.
Doors stood open, curtains flapped in windows, even the ever present field mice could be seen scurrying around the village, occasionally chased by feral cats.
All signs of a healthy village.
If there were any people left here.
Skipping the first few houses, which had been burnt, Dominic stepped up into an intact home. There were still dishes on the table, complete with the bones of what would have been a roast chicken.
The rodents had quickly cleaned the majority of the leftovers, leaving only bones. But the house looked mostly intact.
Dominic spotted a weapons rack by the door, with room for four blades, but no weapons in them, though a scabbard was laying discarded on the floor. The family here must have had older sons.
The next house was similar, but without the weapons rack. Empty, but looking ready to move into, with minimal repairs needed.
There were many more burnt houses on this side of town, and Dominic paused, remembering the last time that he had seen this area.
If he turned toward the centre of town... yes, there it was, the battle site.
The bones of dozens of Dagos soldiers remained on the ground, along with most of the remains of the villagers. Nobody had been here since the village was wiped out, and very little had been touched.
Even the weapons were still lying in skeletal hands.
Dominic slowly walked through the central market, letting memories replay in his mind.
Dominic stepped into the old smithy, where he was met by the protective growl of an aging hunting dog, guarding its offspring.
"Hey girl, it’s just me. Surely, you remember your old friend Dominic?" He asked.
When he was a kid, there wasn’t a single hunting dog that he wasn’t on a first name basis with, as they were all in the woods all day every day.
At the sound of his voice, the dog tilted its head, old memories surfacing.
Dominic took out a bit of meat and crouched to be less threatening as he offered it to the formerly well-trained hunting animal as he made a scratching motion with his other hand, the signal that he wanted to pet the dog.
The familiar gesture made the dog’s growls stop, and it quickly snatched the meat for the pups, which were being watched over by a younger female, while four more young adult dogs stood between him and the young.
Dominic tossed them all a bit more meat, and then brought out one last bit for the one who might remember him.
Cutter, that was the dog’s name. It had taken him a bit, as the patterns had faded in her coat just as much as in his memory.
"Good girl, Cutter. You’ve watched the village until I returned. Do you want to come back to the manor?" Dominic asked, not expecting the dog to respond.
He just wanted to calm it down so he didn’t get jumped as he cleared the village.
But Cutter came up to him and bumped his legs, looking for affection.
Dominic rubbed her head, then brought out a coarse brush, intended for buffing leather and soft metals, to brush out her coat.
That brought happy panting from the muscular canine, and gave Dominic time to assure himself that the forge itself was functional and mostly complete.
If he activated the pumps and the flame spell gem, it should light right up, ready for use.
Even the torch tanks in the corner of the room looked untouched by time, other than the layer of dust on them.
Dominic rose to his feet and patted Cutter on the back.
"Well girl, I need to see how the rest of town looks. Are you coming, or staying with your pups?" He asked.
Cutter moved to his left heel in ready position, nose forward.
"Alright, you watch for threats, I will check the houses."
In total, there were nearly forty houses still intact, while the rest of the village had been sacked and burned. Which left Dominic with only cleanup work to do before he headed into the woods to check out the state of the outlying cabins.
One of them might have had someone living in it since the war. Even if superstition kept everyone away from the village and manor, the houses in the woods used to host regular travellers who were passing through on foot.
If you couldn’t afford a night at the Inn, but needed food, the hunters and woodcutters were normally happy to help.
In exchange for day’s work, of course.