My Point of View

The next month passed far faster than I expected.

For the first time in what felt like forever...

Life became...

Quiet.

Not boring.

Peaceful.

There were no monsters trying to kill me.

No ancient trials waiting around the next corner.

No desperate battles.

No impossible decisions.

Just...

Work.

Good, honest work.

Each morning began much the same.

Breakfast with the others.

A quick examination from either Aldric or Lady Sayuri to make sure I wasn't doing anything stupid with my still recovering body.

Then...

I spent the rest of the day helping the Kitsune improve their village.

It started with simple things.

Stretchers.

The ones they'd been using worked well enough, but most were little more than wooden frames with cloth stretched across them.

We redesigned them to be lighter, stronger, and easier for two people to carry over uneven mountain paths.

The village healers loved them.

Especially once we added removable handles that allowed a single design to serve several different purposes.

Then came the farming tools.

Simple iron plows with improved blade geometry.

Seed drills.

More efficient grain threshers.

Nothing revolutionary by the standards of my old world.

Yet...

To the Kitsune farmers, each improvement meant less backbreaking labor.

Less time in the fields.

More food before winter.

After that came workshops.

One afternoon, I found myself sketching out the design for a hydraulic press.

At first the village blacksmiths thought I'd finally lost my mind.

Right up until they watched it compress metal with a force that would've taken several men to achieve by hand.

The look on their faces had been worth every minute spent explaining Pascal's principle with crude drawings and cups of water.

The elevator Lady Sayuri and I had discussed became the largest project.

Dozens of carpenters.

Stone masons.

Blacksmiths.

Rope makers.

Everyone contributed.

It wasn't elegant.

Just a broad wooden platform with sturdy half-walls, thick braided ropes, massive pulleys, and a carefully balanced counterweight hidden inside a timber frame.

Simple.

Reliable.

When it finally made its first trip up the mountain...

Carrying three patients and enough supplies to fill a wagon...

The entire village applauded.

Lady Sayuri simply smiled.

"...Simple."

She'd said.

I smiled back.

"Most good ideas usually are."

The plumbing project came shortly afterward.

Gravity did most of the work.

Mountain springs already supplied more than enough fresh water.

It simply needed directing.

Wooden pipes.

Stone channels.

Simple settling basins.

Clean water became easier to access, while waste water finally had somewhere to go besides the nearest ditch.

Lady Sayuri was particularly pleased with that one.

She spent nearly an hour explaining how cleaner water prevented illness.

I mostly stood there nodding while trying not to laugh.

It was nice hearing someone independently arrive at conclusions my own world had spent centuries proving.

The largest undertaking, however...

Was electricity.

Not everywhere.

Not yet.

The village simply wasn't ready for that.

Instead...

We started small.

A water wheel.

The mountain stream already possessed more than enough flow.

From there...

A simple generator.

Copper wire.

Magnets.

Coils.

Nothing particularly advanced.

Getting the materials proved harder than explaining how it worked.

When the first electric lamp illuminated Lady Sayuri's study...

Several attendants gasped.

One scholar accidentally dropped every scroll he was carrying.

Lady Sayuri merely stared at the soft white glow for nearly a full minute.

Then quietly said,

"...No oil. No smoke. No open flame."

I nodded.

"Exactly."

She spent the rest of the evening reading beneath electric light.

I don't think I saw her use another oil lamp after that.

Meanwhile...

Nature itself slowly began healing.

The corruption surrounding the sanctuary had stopped spreading.

The blackened earth no longer advanced toward the barrier.

Tiny patches of green had begun appearing where only ash had existed before.

Small flowers pushed through cracked soil.

Birds cautiously returned.

Even insects had begun repopulating the forest.

It wasn't much.

But...

It was hope.

Aldric examined the recovering land several times throughout the month.

One evening he quietly joined me atop the village wall overlooking the valley.

"It'll recover."

He said.

I smiled.

"Good."

He nodded.

"But not quickly."

His eyes followed the patches of green below.

"Years. Perhaps decades. Nature heals."

He folded his arms.

"But she heals at her own pace."

I quietly nodded.

"I suppose we're not so different."

"No."

He agreed.

"We aren't."

The evenings gradually became my favorite part of each day.

Almost every sunset...

I'd climb the four hundred and twelve steps to Lady Sayuri's sanctuary.

Usually carrying two cups of tea.

She'd already have several books waiting.

Our conversations rarely stayed on one topic for long.

Some nights...

She asked about Earth.

Its countries.

Its history.

Its medicine.

Other nights...

She wanted to know about my childhood.

Growing up.

My mother.

My sister.

My friends.

Eventually...

The questions became more personal.

She asked about Andy.

About how we'd met.

How two ordinary young men from another world had somehow ended up in Remnant.

She quietly looked over the rim of her teacup.

"...And that's about everything."

The last of the tea disappeared from my cup.

Outside...

The evening sky had turned a deep orange as the sun disappeared behind the mountains.

The familiar chirping of insects slowly replaced the songs of birds.

Lady Sayuri remained silent.

Not because she hadn't been listening.

Quite the opposite.

She was thinking.

That had become a familiar sight over the past month.

I'd tell her something about Earth...

Then she'd disappear into her own thoughts for several minutes before asking one question that somehow managed to make me rethink my own answer.

Eventually...

She looked toward the village below.

"...Your world fascinates me."

I smiled.

"Mine would say the same thing about yours."

She nodded faintly.

"I suppose they would."

Her gaze drifted toward the small building near the stream.

Even from this distance...

A warm white light shone through its paper windows.

The first electric lights in the sanctuary.

The blacksmith's workshop.

Lady Sayuri followed my gaze.

"They've already requested another generator."

"I heard."

"The farmers wish to illuminate their grain stores. The healers wish for brighter operating rooms. The scholars wish to read after sunset."

I chuckled.

"So basically everyone."

"Yes."

She looked almost amused.

"The village has become... demanding."

"Welcome to progress."

She actually laughed.

"...A dangerous thing."

"It is."

I nodded.

"Once people realize life can be easier..."

"They start asking how to make everything easier."

"...Exactly."

She slowly turned back toward me.

"You have changed this sanctuary considerably."

"I've tried not to."

"You failed."

"...Fair."

She smiled.

"The elevator has reduced serious transport injuries by nearly seventy percent. The new stretchers have allowed healers to reach patients in places previously inaccessible. The improved irrigation has increased crop yield. The plumbing has already reduced intestinal illness."

She paused.

"The electric lights have allowed surgeries to continue safely after sunset."

I blinked.

"...Already?"

"We keep records."

She answered simply.

"You should know that by now."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...Guess I should."

Silence settled between us again.

Comfortable silence.

Lady Sayuri reached for the medical textbook I'd given her weeks ago.

Colored ribbons now protruded from nearly every chapter.

Notes filled the margins.

Small pieces of parchment marked dozens of pages.

She'd practically adopted the thing.

"I've finished nearly a third of it."

She said.

I nearly spit out my tea.

"...A third?"

She looked confused.

"...Yes."

"That's..."

I laughed.

"...That's over four hundred pages."

"I know."

"You've been reading that in your spare time?"

"I no longer possess spare time."

"...Fair enough."

She gently closed the book.

"There are treatments within these pages, that would never have occurred to me."

I smiled.

"And there are treatments you've taught me that would've blown the minds of doctors back home."

She inclined her head.

"It seems, our worlds have much to teach one another."

"I think so too."

She looked out toward the village once more.

Workers were finishing another water pipe.

Children rode the first rough wooden bicycles through the village streets while several elders watched in complete bewilderment.

One young Kitsune promptly tipped over into a flower bed.

He stood up laughing.

His friends laughed harder.

Lady Sayuri sighed.

"They're going to break something."

"Probably."

"...Likely themselves."

"Definitely."

For some reason...

That made both of us laugh.

She looked back toward me.

"So..."

Her mismatched eyes narrowed with quiet curiosity.

"What is the next impossible thing you intend to burden my people with?"

I couldn't help laughing.

"Burden?"

She gave the faintest smile.

"They're beginning to expect you to solve every inconvenience they encounter."

"...Yeah..."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"I've noticed."

"So?"

She folded her hands inside her sleeves.

"What comes next?"

I leaned back, looking out across the valley.

"There are three things I've been thinking about."

"Oh?"

"The first..."

I held up one finger.

"A printing press. The second..."

Another finger.

"Better glue. The third..."

I hesitated just long enough to build suspense.

"...A steam engine."

Silence.

Lady Sayuri blinked.

"...A steam..."

She repeated the unfamiliar words carefully.

"...Engine?"

I nodded.

"It'll probably end up being the biggest project I've ever attempted."

"What does it do?"

I smiled.

"The better question, is what doesn't it do."

That earned another curious tilt of her head.

I stood and walked over to one of the spare sheets of parchment.

Quickly sketching several rough circles and lines.

"This..."

I drew a large cylinder.

"...is a boiler. Water goes inside."

I sketched a small firebox beneath it.

"You heat the water until it becomes steam."

She nodded slowly.

"I understand steam."

"Good."

I drew a piston connected to a rod.

"The pressure pushes this. The piston moves. The piston turns a wheel. The wheel provides mechanical power."

Lady Sayuri stepped closer.

Studying every line.

"...Simple."

"On paper."

I admitted.

"In practice..."

I smiled.

"...It's going to be a nightmare."

That actually made her laugh.

"I appreciate your honesty."

"The engineering has to be precise. The boiler has to be strong. The pressure has to be controlled. The valves have to seal correctly. If any of that fails..."

I made a small exploding gesture with my hands.

"...Things become exciting."

"...That..."

She looked at the drawing.

"...is a concerning way to describe an explosion."

"I figured."

She quietly nodded.

"So, what would this machine accomplish?"

"A lot."

I pointed toward the blacksmith's workshop.

"It could power hammers."

Then toward the grain stores.

"It could drive mills."

Toward the farms.

"It could power threshers."

Finally...

Toward the road leading out of the sanctuary.

"And eventually..."

I smiled.

"...It could move itself."

Her eyes lifted from the drawing.

"...Move...Itself?"

"A locomotive."

She frowned.

"I am unfamiliar with that word."

"A wagon."

I explained.

"That pulls itself. No horses. No oxen. Just steam."

Silence.

"...Impossible."

She murmured.

"Probably."

I admitted.

"For now."

I tapped the parchment.

"I'm not talking about building that tomorrow. First, we build one that doesn't move."

She looked intrigued.

"A stationary engine. It teaches everyone how the system works. How to build boilers. How to machine pistons. How to regulate pressure. Once we've mastered that..."

I shrugged.

"Making it mobile becomes much easier."

She slowly nodded.

"You are teaching foundations."

"Exactly."

"I'd rather everyone understand why something works than simply copy my drawings."

Her expression brightened.

"A wise philosophy."

I smiled.

"My shop teacher would've smacked me upside the head if I skipped the basics."

Lady Sayuri looked puzzled.

"...Your..."

She repeated carefully.

"...Shop teacher?"

"Oh."

I laughed.

"He taught woodworking. Metalworking. Basic engineering. How to safely use tools without accidentally removing important fingers."

She looked thoughtfully at my hands.

"...An admirable goal."

"I was rather attached to all ten."

That earned another tiny smile.

She returned her attention to the parchment.

"And the printing press?"

"Oh."

I grinned.

"That's the one I'm really excited about."

I quickly turned the page.

Right beside the steam engine sketches.

"The version you have now..."

I pointed toward several handwritten scrolls stacked nearby.

"...Every single one of these has to be copied by hand."

"It does."

"And it takes forever."

"It does."

"What if..."

I began sketching rows of small metal blocks.

"...Every individual character could be rearranged."

She frowned.

"...Rearranged?

"Movable type."

I nodded.

"You build a page once. Ink it. Press paper against it. And instead of producing one book every few months..."

I smiled.

"...You produce hundreds."

Lady Sayuri didn't say anything.

She simply stared at the sketch.

Then...

Very slowly...

She looked toward the thousands of scrolls surrounding her sanctuary.

The realization dawned across her face.

"...Knowledge..."

She whispered.

"...Could spread exponentially."

I nodded.

"Exactly. No more copying every page by hand. No more spending years reproducing a single textbook. The moment someone discovers something, they can share it."

She looked at me.

Almost in disbelief.

"...That..."

She said quietly.

"...May change civilization more than electricity."

I smiled.

"I think so too."

Then I chuckled to myself.

"...Honestly..."

"What?"

"I already knew a fair bit about steam engines growing up. I spent a lot of time at Steam-O-Rama back home. Watching the old steam tractors, traction engines, sawmills, and boilers running fascinated me. Even got involved with the tractor pulling events."

I smiled to myself.

"Then I met Andy."

Lady Sayuri tilted her head.

"...Your friend."

"Yep."

I chuckled.

"He likes trains."

"...That sounds simple."

"Oh, it starts simple."

I laughed.

"Then you find yourself listening to him explain the differences between locomotive classes, boiler designs, valve gear, wheel arrangements, and why one steam engine built a hundred years ago was somehow better than another."

Lady Sayuri raised an eyebrow.

"...Did you understand any of it?"

"Eventually."

I grinned.

"Turns out you absorb a surprising amount of information after hearing someone ramble about trains for long enough."

"So..."

She looked back at the steam engine sketches.

"...Your knowledge comes from both study and friendship."

I nodded.

"Pretty much. I learned from people who knew more than I did. Now..."

I looked at the drawings spread across the table.

"...I'm just passing it along."

Lady Sayuri looked down at the sketches spread across the table once more.

The blueprint of the elevator.

The rough diagram of the printing press.

The cross-section of the steam engine's boiler.

The room fell quiet.

Not because there was nothing left to say.

But because she was thinking.

I'd come to recognize that expression over the past month.

Whenever she became silent...

Something was about to click.

Finally...

She looked up.

"...Alex."

"Hm?"

"You are approaching this incorrectly."

I blinked.

"...I am?"

She nodded.

"You continue speaking as though these inventions are separate."

She gestured toward the papers.

"They are not."

I frowned thoughtfully.

"...Go on."

She stood and walked toward the shelves lining the wall.

Running one finger along hundreds of neatly organized scrolls.

"Consider the printing press."

She looked back at me.

"It allows books to spread."

I nodded.

"Right."

She then pointed toward the steam engine sketch.

"This powers machinery."

"Yeah."

"And the improved glue?"

"Stronger books. Better carts. Furniture. Tools."

She nodded.

"So..."

She turned back toward me.

"What happens when all three exist together?"

I opened my mouth...

Then slowly closed it.

"...Huh."

She smiled faintly.

"You see it."

"I..."

I rubbed my chin.

"...The printing press spreads knowledge. The steam engine speeds production. The glue improves manufacturing."

She nodded once.

"Knowledge creates better machines. Better machines create more books. More books create better craftsmen. Better craftsmen create better machines."

I slowly grinned.

"...It's a feedback loop."

She inclined her head.

"Precisely."

I couldn't help laughing.

"I was looking at the individual trees, and you showed me the forest."

"I've had practice."

She replied simply.

That...

Was fair.

I looked back down at the sketches.

"...Then maybe..."

I picked up another sheet of parchment.

"We shouldn't start with the steam engine."

Lady Sayuri's ears twitched.

"Oh?"

"The printing press."

I began sketching rough blocks.

"If people can actually read what we're teaching, they'll learn faster."

She nodded.

"Continue."

"The press means engineering books. Medical books. Farming guides. Construction manuals."

I looked up.

"If everybody has access to information, they stop relying on one person."

Her smile widened ever so slightly.

"...Exactly."

I stopped writing.

"...I've been thinking too small."

"You have."

She wasn't insulting me.

Simply stating a fact.

"The goal..."

She continued.

"...is not for you to improve the sanctuary."

Her finger rested lightly upon the drawing.

"It is for the sanctuary, to improve itself."

That sentence...

Stopped me cold.

Because she was right.

If I built everything...

Nothing would last after I left.

But if I taught them...

If I left behind books...

Schools...

Knowledge...

Then they wouldn't need me.

They'd surpass me.

I slowly leaned back.

"...That's..."

I laughed quietly.

"...Honestly better than what I was planning."

"It usually is."

She answered calmly.

I looked toward the shelves.

"...We need schools."

She nodded.

"Already have them. Bigger schools. Engineering. Medicine. Blacksmithing. Agriculture."

She quietly watched as I spoke faster and faster.

"The printing press creates textbooks. The schools teach from those books. The students improve the books. They invent better tools. The better tools improve farming. More food means more people can study instead of farm. Which creates more inventors."

I stopped.

"...Holy..."

Lady Sayuri smiled.

"You've arrived."

"I..."

I looked at the sketches.

"I've been trying to give people fish."

She nodded.

"When I should've been teaching them to fish."

She smiled warmly.

"A saying from Earth?"

"It is."

"I approve."

I chuckled.

"You approve of a lot of my sayings."

"They tend to be practical."

"...Fair."

Silence settled once again.

Then...

Lady Sayuri quietly walked toward one of the older shelves.

She carefully removed an ancient scroll.

The parchment looked far older than anything else in the room.

The edges had yellowed.

The ink had faded.

She unrolled it carefully.

"This..."

She said softly.

"...was written by the founder of our sanctuary."

I leaned closer.

The handwriting was beautiful.

Elegant.

Though I couldn't read most of it.

Lady Sayuri translated aloud.

"Knowledge kept by one person, dies with one person. Knowledge shared, becomes immortal."

I stared at the words.

"...How old is that?"

"Approximately..."

She thought for a moment.

"...Twenty six centuries."

"...Wow."

She carefully rolled it closed again.

"Our founder believed..."

She looked directly into my eyes.

"...that a teacher leaves a greater legacy than a warrior."

I smiled faintly.

"...I think I'd agree."

She studied me for another long moment.

"You have spent this month building."

"I have."

"But..."

She tapped the rolled scroll gently against her palm.

"...I believe your greatest contribution has not been your inventions."

"Oh?"

"You've reminded an entire village..."

She glanced toward the sanctuary below.

"...to ask, 'Why?'"

I tilted my head.

"What do you mean?"

"When you first arrived..."

She answered.

"Our craftsmen asked, 'How do we build this?'"

She smiled.

"Now they ask, 'Can we build something better?'"

I blinked.

"...That's..."

She nodded.

"The question every civilization must eventually learn to ask."

Outside...

The evening bell echoed across the sanctuary.

Its deep tone rolled over rooftops and through the cedar forest.

Lady Sayuri looked toward the sound.

"The council meets tomorrow."

"The village council?"

She nodded.

"I've requested every elder. The master blacksmith. The chief carpenter. The scholars. The healers. The farmers."

"...Everyone?"

"Everyone."

I raised an eyebrow.

"...What's the meeting about?"

She looked at me with that same calm expression she'd worn since the day we'd met.

"...The future."

I smiled.

"...That sounds important."

"It is."

She folded her hands inside her sleeves.

"Tomorrow..."

She glanced toward the stack of blueprints, textbooks, and notes we'd accumulated over the past month.

"...You will not merely present inventions."

She looked back at me.

"...You will present a vision."

The weight of those words settled over the room.

Because she was right.

This wasn't about an elevator.

Or a printing press.

Or a steam engine.

It was about laying the first stone...

For a civilization that could continue advancing long after I was gone.

I slowly folded my arms.

"...You know."

Lady Sayuri looked toward me.

"Hm?"

"I've actually been keeping one thing from everyone."

That caught her attention.

"...Keeping?"

I nodded.

"I wanted it to be finished first."

She studied me for a moment.

"...Should I be concerned?"

I laughed.

"No."

"It won't explode."

"...You hesitated."

"I did not."

"You absolutely did."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...Fair."

She gave me an unconvinced look.

"What is it?"

A grin slowly spread across my face.

"...A gift."

"...For whom?"

"Everybody."

Lady Sayuri tilted her head.

"The entire sanctuary?"

"Yep."

"...That is an ambitious gift."

"I know."

She folded her sleeves.

"What have you built?"

I walked over toward one of the cabinets near the entrance.

Hidden behind several empty wooden crates...

Rested a large object beneath a linen cloth.

I'd intentionally kept it covered every time I'd visited.

Mostly because I wanted the finished product to remain a surprise.

Lady Sayuri watched curiously as I carefully lifted it onto the center table.

"...May I?"

She asked.

I smiled.

"Go ahead."

She grasped one corner of the cloth.

Pulled it away.

Silence.

The object beneath wasn't particularly large.

Perhaps three feet tall.

Crafted from beautifully stained oak.

Brass fittings gleamed softly beneath the afternoon sunlight.

A polished glass lens protruded from the front.

Behind it sat a carefully constructed wooden box with adjustable rails and focusing knobs.

The rear opened with small brass hinges.

Beside it rested several removable wooden frames.

Lady Sayuri slowly walked around it.

Studying every angle.

"...A box."

I laughed.

"Technically."

She looked back at me.

"...I suspect there is more to it than that."

"There is."

I gently rested one hand atop the wooden housing.

"It's called..."

I smiled.

"...A Camera Obscura."

She carefully repeated the unfamiliar words.

"...Camera...Obscura."

"It's Latin."

She looked puzzled.

"...Another language from Earth?"

"Yeah."

"It roughly means..."

I thought for a moment.

"...Dark chamber."

Her ears twitched.

"...Interesting."

I opened the rear panel.

The inside was almost completely black.

Only a small holder sat near the back wall.

"The inside stays completely dark."

I explained.

"The only light that enters..."

I tapped the glass lens.

"...comes through here."

She leaned closer.

Watching intently.

"The lens bends the light. It projects an image."

I pointed toward the holder inside.

"Right there."

Lady Sayuri frowned thoughtfully.

"...An image?"

I nodded.

"A real one."

She looked unconvinced.

"...Without magic?"

"Without magic."

She looked at the lens again.

Then at me.

"...Show me."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

I carefully carried the camera toward the open window overlooking the village.

Positioning it so the lens faced the valley below.

Then...

I pulled a small piece of ground glass from my satchel.

Sliding it into the rear holder.

"Now..."

I adjusted the focus.

Turning the brass knob slowly.

The lens shifted forward.

Then back.

Tiny increments.

Finally...

The blurry colors sharpened.

I stepped aside.

"Look."

Lady Sayuri knelt slightly.

Looking through the rear opening.

She froze.

Completely.

The bustling village appeared upon the glass.

Upside down.

Perfectly detailed.

Children running through the streets.

Smoke curling from chimneys.

The elevator carrying another load upward.

Every movement...

Captured by nothing more than light.

Her eyes widened.

"...Impossible..."

She whispered.

"No."

I smiled.

"Just optics."

She didn't answer.

Instead...

She continued staring.

Watching villagers move across the tiny glowing image.

After nearly a full minute...

She slowly looked up.

"...There are no enchantments."

"Nope."

"No illusion magic."

"No."

"No projection spell."

"No."

She looked back inside.

"...It's simply, light."

"Exactly."

She stood.

Walking around the device once more.

"This..."

She murmured.

"...Records nothing."

"Not yet."

I admitted.

"This version is only for viewing."

I gently picked up one of the removable wooden frames.

"But..."

I smiled.

"It can become something more."

She looked toward the frame.

"How?"

"I haven't figured out all the chemistry yet."

I admitted honestly.

"But eventually, we coat a surface with light-sensitive chemicals. The light leaves an image."

She frowned.

"...Permanently?"

I nodded.

"That's the idea."

Silence.

She slowly looked back toward the village.

"...A memory..."

She whispered.

"...Captured."

I smiled.

"Exactly."

She looked genuinely fascinated now.

"The paintings within this sanctuary..."

She looked toward the walls.

"...Take weeks. Months. Sometimes years."

I nodded.

"This..."

She looked back into the camera.

"...Could preserve a single moment. Exactly as it happened. Without relying on memory."

I smiled.

"Exactly."

For several long moments...

Neither of us spoke.

Lady Sayuri simply watched the image upon the glass.

Children laughing.

Villagers walking.

Life...

Passing by.

"...Why keep this secret?" She quietly asked.

I looked out across the village.

"...Because..."

I smiled softly.

"I wanted everyone to see themselves."

She looked toward me.

"When I first got here, I noticed something. The sanctuary has thousands of scrolls. Hundreds of paintings. Generations of written history."

I paused.

"But, I never once saw..."

I looked back toward the tiny image glowing within the camera.

"...The faces."

Lady Sayuri remained silent.

"Our memories fade."

I continued quietly.

"Paintings change. Stories become exaggerated. But..."

I rested one hand on the polished wood.

"This lets someone see exactly who their grandparents were. What their parents looked like. The smile on a child's face. The wrinkles earned after a long life. The expression on someone's face when they accomplish something impossible."

I chuckled softly.

"I figured, I've spent the last month helping improve how people live."

I looked back toward Lady Sayuri.

"...Now I'd like to help preserve who they are."

The room became utterly silent.

Lady Sayuri slowly turned back toward the Camera Obscura.

She reached out.

Not to the lens.

Not to the polished wood.

But to the faint image glowing upon the ground glass.

Her fingertips stopped just short of touching it.

As though afraid she might disturb the moment itself.

"...Four hundred years..."

She whispered.

"...And I cannot remember my mother's face."

My smile faded.

She wasn't crying.

She wasn't even close.

She simply...

Sounded tired.

Very...

Very tired.

"...I remember her voice."

She continued quietly.

"I remember her laugh. I remember the warmth of her embrace."

Her fingers hovered over the glowing image.

"But her face..."

She closed her eyes.

"...Has become little more than fragments."

Silence.

I looked at the camera.

Then back at her.

"...Maybe..."

I said softly.

"...No one else has to lose that."

Lady Sayuri remained still for a long time.

Then...

Very gently...

She rested one hand upon the top of the Camera Obscura.

"...Alex."

"Yeah?"

She looked at me.

There was unmistakable emotion in her eyes now.

Quiet.

Controlled.

But real.

"...This..."

She smiled softly.

"...May be the most beautiful invention you've shown me."

Not because it would make people stronger.

Or richer.

Or more efficient.

But because...

It would help them remember.

I smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck.

"I was hoping you'd like it."

"I do."

Her eyes drifted back toward the Camera Obscura.

"I believe..."

She paused.

"...every family should eventually have one."

"I was thinking the same thing."

She nodded.

"The first should remain here."

"In the sanctuary?"

"No."

She smiled.

"In our archives."

I tilted my head.

"Archives?"

"Our people have always preserved names."

She looked toward the shelves filled with scrolls.

"We have birth records. Marriage records. Death records. Family trees stretching back nearly two thousand years."

She rested one hand on the polished oak of the Camera Obscura.

"...Now..."

She smiled gently.

"...We shall preserve faces."

That...

Was honestly a better idea than anything I'd come up with.

I chuckled.

"I was just thinking family portraits."

"That as well."

She nodded.

"But think further."

She began pacing slowly.

"The village. The festivals. The changing seasons. The completion of great works."

She glanced toward me.

"The children."

I smiled.

"They grow up."

"They do."

She looked almost nostalgic.

"I have watched hundreds of generations grow old."

Her expression softened.

"...There are many faces I wish I could remember more clearly."

Silence settled between us once more.

Eventually...

She carefully placed the linen cloth back over the Camera Obscura.

"We shall unveil it tomorrow."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You don't want to show everyone now?"

She smiled knowingly.

"If I know this village..."

She looked toward the window.

"...Half of them are already gathered outside trying to guess what you've hidden beneath that cloth."

I laughed.

"...You're probably right."

As if the universe itself wanted to prove her point...

A muffled thud echoed from outside.

Followed by...

"...Ow."

Then hurried footsteps.

Lady Sayuri sighed.

"...Children."

I grinned.

"...Curious little gremlins."

"They learned from their parents."

"I believe it."

She slid the sanctuary doors open.

The cool mountain air greeted us immediately.

Three young Kitsune, who had very obviously been standing with their ears pressed against the wall moments earlier, nearly fell into the room.

"...Uh..."

The oldest quickly straightened.

"We weren't listening!"

Lady Sayuri raised one elegant eyebrow.

"...No?"

"No."

"...Then why are your ears red?"

All three instinctively covered their ears.

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing.

"...Busted."

The youngest looked up at me.

"...Is it true?"

I tilted my head.

"What's true?"

"That you made another weird Earth thing."

I blinked.

"...That's what everyone's saying?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

"They're taking bets!"

"...They're what?"

"Master Hiro says it's another machine."

"The blacksmith thinks it's a new forge."

"My mom thinks it's another farming tool."

"The carpenter says it's something that'll give him more work."

I couldn't hold it in anymore.

I laughed.

"...Well..."

I glanced toward Lady Sayuri.

"...I guess they're half right."

The children immediately leaned forward.

"What is it?"

Lady Sayuri answered before I could.

"You'll see shortly."

Collective groan.

"...Aww..."

She smiled faintly.

"Patience."

The oldest dramatically sighed.

"...Adults are cruel."

I pointed toward him.

"You'll understand someday."

"I doubt it."

"I said the same thing."

He frowned thoughtfully.

"...Really?"

"Yep."

"...Huh."

That seemed to genuinely confuse him.

Lady Sayuri simply continued walking.

The children quickly scampered after us.

Word spread astonishingly fast.

By the time we'd descended the first hundred steps...

Villagers had begun emerging from workshops.

Farmers paused their work.

Blacksmiths wiped soot from their hands.

Scholars closed books.

One by one...

People quietly joined the growing procession.

Not because anyone had summoned them.

Because they were curious.

I leaned toward Lady Sayuri.

"...Is this normal?"

She didn't even glance back.

"For this village? Yes. You've introduced electricity. Modern plumbing. An elevator. Bicycles."

She looked sideways at me.

"...Do you truly believe people would ignore the rumor that you've invented something else?"

"...Fair point."

By the time we reached the main sanctuary...

The courtyard was alive.

Nearly every elder had already arrived.

Master Hiro stood near the center, speaking quietly with several scholars.

The master carpenter was there.

The chief blacksmith.

Representatives from the farming guild.

The healers.

Teachers.

Even several younger apprentices had been allowed to attend, parchment and brushes already in hand.

They fully intended to take notes.

Roland spotted me first.

"There he is."

Eleanor looked over.

"...About time."

Marcus folded his arms.

"I was beginning to think Lady Sayuri had kidnapped you."

I smiled.

"She tried."

Lady Sayuri answered before I could.

"He exaggerates."

"I do not."

She looked at me.

"You do."

"...Fair."

Aldric walked over carrying several rolled diagrams.

"You finished?"

"I think so."

"I hope so."

He smiled.

"The entire council is waiting."

I looked past him.

Only now...

Did I truly appreciate how many people were present.

Not dozens.

Hundreds.

Every bench surrounding the central courtyard was occupied.

Others stood along the outer walkways.

Some had climbed onto nearby rooftops for a better view.

Children sat cross-legged near the front.

Scholars organized ink and parchment with practiced efficiency.

The atmosphere reminded me less of a council meeting...

And more of a university lecture.

Lady Sayuri stepped onto the raised wooden platform overlooking the courtyard.

The quiet conversations gradually faded.

Within moments...

The entire sanctuary fell silent.

She looked across the assembled Kitsune.

Her voice carried effortlessly.

"For centuries..."

She began.

"Our people have honored those who preserve knowledge."

Heads nodded throughout the crowd.

"Today..."

She looked toward me.

"...We honor one who brought knowledge from another world."

Every eye in the sanctuary turned toward me.

I instinctively rubbed the back of my neck.

"...I really don't like being the center of attention."

Roland smirked.

"Too late."

Lady Sayuri continued.

"Over the past month, our sanctuary has changed."

She gestured toward the mountainside.

"The lift. The new irrigation. The electric lights. The improved medical equipment. The workshops. The farms. Our scholars. Our healers. Our craftsmen."

Her voice remained calm.

"But these are not the greatest gifts."

She stepped aside.

Leaving the center of the platform open.

"The greatest gift..."

She looked directly at me.

"...Is the willingness to share knowledge freely."

She inclined her head.

"Alex."

She smiled gently.

"The floor, is yours."

The entire courtyard fell completely silent.

Hundreds of expectant eyes looked my way.

I slowly walked onto the platform.

Took one deep breath.

Then another.

"...Well..."

I looked out over the sea of faces.

Then smiled.

"...This is either going to go really well..."

I glanced toward the large cloth-covered object waiting beside the stage.

"...Or I'm about to confuse several hundred people all at once."

A few chuckles rippled through the gathered crowd.

Good.

At least they weren't completely terrified of me anymore.

I took another slow breath before looking across the courtyard.

There were so many faces.

Children sitting cross-legged in the front.

Scholars already dipping their brushes into ink.

Blacksmiths with soot still staining their aprons.

Farmers who had come directly from the fields.

Carpenters.

Healers.

Hunters.

Teachers.

Entire families.

For a moment...

It reminded me of town meetings back home.

Different people.

Different world.

Same feeling.

"...First."

I began.

"I'd like to thank everyone."

That earned a few puzzled looks.

"I've been here for a month. A month ago I was a stranger. A wounded stranger at that."

Several Kitsune nodded.

"Instead of turning me away, you fed me. You treated my injuries. You welcomed me into your homes. You trusted me."

I smiled.

"That isn't something I'll ever forget."

The courtyard remained quiet.

Several elders inclined their heads.

Lady Shizuka smiled softly.

"So..."

I continued.

"I figured I'd try paying you back."

A small laugh spread through the audience.

"I don't know everything. I never will. I'm not some genius inventor. I'm just a guy who grew up in another world. A world that happened to solve some problems differently."

I gestured toward the elevator visible halfway up the mountain.

"The lift wasn't my invention."

A few eyebrows rose.

"I simply remembered how someone else solved a similar problem."

I pointed toward one of the electric lamps hanging beneath the shrine roof.

"Electricity? Same thing. The plumbing. The presses. The farming tools."

I shrugged.

"I didn't invent them. I learned from people smarter than me. I just happened to remember enough to recreate some of it."

One of the younger apprentices looked genuinely surprised.

I smiled at him.

"The smartest person in the room I've found, is usually the one willing to admit someone else had a better idea."

Several of the older craftsmen laughed knowingly.

The master carpenter nodded in approval.

Lady Sayuri quietly watched from the side of the stage.

Her expression unreadable.

I continued.

"My goal isn't to change your way of life. It's to make parts of it easier. So you have more time. More time with your families. More time learning. More time teaching. More time living."

Silence settled over the courtyard.

Then...

I walked toward the large object resting beneath the cloth.

"This..."

I rested one hand atop the covered frame.

"...Isn't going to make your crops grow faster. It won't forge better steel. It won't produce electricity. It won't carry people up a mountain."

Several children leaned forward.

One practically bounced in anticipation.

"So why build it?"

I smiled.

"Because, I think every civilization eventually reaches a point, where surviving isn't enough."

Now...

Even Lady Sayuri seemed interested in where I was going.

"We fight. We build. We invent. We improve. But eventually..."

I looked across the gathered families.

"...We begin asking another question. 'How do we remember?'"

Silence.

"My world built monuments. Statues. Museums. Libraries. We wrote books. Painted portraits. We did everything we could, to make sure the people we loved weren't forgotten."

I looked toward the older Kitsune seated together.

"Memory is strange. The older we become, the less clear the little details seem. The sound of someone's laughter. The exact way they smiled. The little wrinkles beside their eyes. The way they looked when they were truly happy."

Lady Sayuri lowered her eyes.

Several elders did the same.

"I've buried people."

I said quietly.

"I imagine most of you have too."

No one answered.

They didn't need to.

"I know what it's like, to wish you could see someone's face one more time."

The courtyard had become completely still.

No children talking.

No whispers.

Nothing.

I slowly grasped the cloth.

"When I built this, I wasn't thinking about machines. I wasn't thinking about progress. I was thinking about memories."

With one smooth motion...

I pulled the cloth away.

The Camera Obscura stood revealed.

Its polished oak reflected the afternoon sunlight.

The brass fittings gleamed warmly.

The large glass lens caught the light like a jewel.

Soft murmurs spread immediately.

"...What is it?"

"...Another machine?"

"...A telescope?"

"...Some sort of lantern?"

I smiled.

"It has a name."

I gently rested one hand upon the wooden frame.

"It's called, a Camera Obscura."

The unfamiliar words echoed quietly across the courtyard.

"I know."

I laughed.

"It's a strange name. But, I think you'll like what it does."

I carefully rotated the camera toward the gathered audience.

Then opened the rear panel.

Sliding the prepared ground glass into place.

The apprentices nearest the front immediately leaned closer.

I adjusted the focus.

Slowly.

Patiently.

The brass knob turned beneath my fingers.

Blurred colors.

Blurred shapes.

Then...

Perfect clarity.

I stepped aside.

"Master Hiro."

The elderly Kitsune blinked.

"...Me?"

"Would you mind?"

Curiosity quickly overcame hesitation.

He slowly approached.

Looking into the viewing screen.

He froze.

Completely.

His ears slowly stood upright.

His eyes widened.

"...By..."

He whispered.

"...The Ancestors..."

Several nearby elders exchanged worried glances.

"...Hiro?"

He didn't answer.

Instead...

He slowly stepped aside.

"...Look."

Lady Shizuka approached next.

She bent slightly.

Looked inside.

Then immediately covered her mouth.

"...It's..."

Her voice almost disappeared.

"...The village."

One by one...

People began looking through the Camera Obscura.

Every reaction was different.

Shock.

Wonder.

Disbelief.

Children laughed.

Adults simply stared.

One elderly grandmother reached toward the image as though she could touch her grandson running across the square.

Another scholar nearly dropped his inkbrush in amazement.

"It isn't painted..."

He whispered.

"It isn't magic..."

A blacksmith slowly shook his head.

"...It's real."

"It is."

I answered.

"It's light. Captured exactly as your eyes see it."

One little fox kit tugged gently on my sleeve.

"...Mister Alex?"

I looked down.

"Yeah?"

"...Can..."

He pointed timidly toward the camera.

"...Can it see me?"

I smiled warmly.

"It can."

His ears immediately perked up.

"Really?"

"Come here."

I knelt beside him.

Helping him stand on a small stool.

He carefully looked into the viewing screen.

For a heartbeat...

He didn't react.

Then...

His tiny jaw slowly dropped.

"...That's..."

He looked back at me.

"...Me..."

"It is."

He looked back again.

"...I'm upside down."

The entire courtyard burst into laughter.

Even Lady Sayuri laughed quietly behind one sleeve.

I couldn't help laughing too.

"...Yeah."

I nodded.

"...I'm upside down."

The entire courtyard erupted into laughter.

Even Lady Sayuri quietly covered her mouth as she laughed.

I couldn't help chuckling myself.

"...Yeah."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"That's one problem I haven't solved yet."

The little fox kit looked back into the Camera Obscura.

"...I don't mind."

He smiled from ear to ear.

"I still look awesome."

Another wave of laughter spread through the crowd.

"That you do."

I ruffled the fur between his ears.

"Next."

Almost immediately, a line began forming.

Children first.

Naturally.

Adults weren't far behind.

One after another, villagers stepped forward to peer into the dark chamber.

Each reacted differently.

Some gasped.

Some laughed.

Some simply stood in stunned silence.

One elderly Kitsune woman stared at the image for nearly a full minute before quietly stepping away.

She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

"...I've..."

She whispered.

"...Never seen my own smile."

That sentence alone quieted the courtyard.

I watched as her granddaughter gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Neither spoke.

They didn't need to.

Nearby...

Two young craftsmen argued over how the lens worked.

"No, it has to be magic."

"It isn't."

"Then how does the picture get inside?"

"The light."

"What light?"

"The light."

"That doesn't explain anything."

"It explains enough!"

I laughed quietly.

"...I remember saying the exact same thing."

Lady Sayuri smiled knowingly.

"You also argued with yourself?"

"...Frequently."

Several scholars had already surrounded the Camera Obscura.

Brushes flew across parchment.

Sketches of the lens.

Measurements.

Cross-sections.

Questions filled every available margin.

One elderly scholar looked up.

"...Master Alex."

I instinctively flinched.

"...Please don't call me that."

He blinked.

"...Very well."

"...Alex."

"Much better."

He nodded once.

"...May we copy it?"

I smiled.

"I was hoping you would."

Another scholar immediately raised his hand.

"...May we improve it?"

I laughed.

"I was hoping you'd ask that too."

Confused looks spread across several younger apprentices.

I continued.

"I don't want there to be just one."

I rested a hand atop the polished oak.

"I want every family that wants one, to eventually own one."

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

Every family.

Not merely nobles.

Not only scholars.

Everyone.

The chief carpenter stepped forward.

"If we're making many..."

He thoughtfully rubbed his beard.

"...Then oak will become expensive."

I nodded.

"It doesn't have to be oak. Pine works. Walnut. Maple. Anything reasonably stable."

He immediately began making notes.

Another craftsman raised a hand.

"...And the brass?"

"Wood will work."

I answered.

"It just won't last quite as long."

Lady Sayuri quietly watched the discussion unfold.

A faint smile rested upon her face.

She wasn't watching the Camera Obscura anymore.

She was watching...

The people.

Ideas spread through the courtyard faster than wildfire.

One question became ten.

Ten became fifty.

Suggestions flew back and forth.

"The lens could be larger."

"What if we made smaller versions?"

"Travel versions!"

"Could two lenses improve clarity?"

"What if..."

I grinned.

There it was.

Exactly what Lady Sayuri had predicted.

Eventually...

Lady Shizuka stepped forward.

Her voice carried effortlessly across the gathering.

"...Everyone."

The conversations gradually died down.

She looked toward me.

"...Alex."

I nodded.

"One more thing."

I reached into my satchel.

Several curious ears immediately perked up.

"...There's more?"

Roland muttered from somewhere near the back.

"I should've known."

I chuckled.

"There usually is."

From inside the satchel...

I carefully removed a flat wooden box.

Not very large.

Perhaps twelve inches by ten.

Only a few inches thick.

Its brass latches clicked softly as I placed it upon the table.

Curiosity immediately returned.

I opened it.

Inside...

Lay several polished glass plates.

Carefully wrapped in cloth.

Beside them rested a collection of small bottles.

Lady Sayuri immediately recognized them.

"...Chemicals."

I nodded.

"I've been experimenting."

The scholars leaned forward.

I carefully lifted one of the glass plates.

"Hypothetically..."

I smiled.

"...One day..."

I held the plate toward the Camera Obscura.

"...These might let us keep the image."

Silence.

Complete silence.

One scholar slowly lowered his brush.

"...Keep..."

He whispered.

"...The image?"

I nodded.

"I'm not there yet. Honestly, I've barely begun. I still have to figure out the exact chemical mixture. The exposure times. How to develop it. How to stop it fading."

I smiled sheepishly.

"So..."

I looked around the courtyard.

"...If anyone figures it out before I do..."

I pointed toward them.

"...You get full credit."

That...

Actually made several scholars laugh.

The oldest among them smiled broadly.

"...You truly don't care whose name history remembers."

I looked at him.

"...History remembers enough names."

I shrugged.

"I'd rather it remembered the idea."

Lady Sayuri looked at me.

Really looked at me.

There was something different in her expression now.

Not curiosity.

Not surprise.

Understanding.

The meeting continued for nearly three more hours.

Blueprints passed from hand to hand.

The master blacksmith volunteered his forge for manufacturing printing type.

The carpenters offered workshops for Camera Obscuras.

The farmers requested demonstrations of improved seed drills.

The millers immediately wanted to see the stationary steam engine once construction began.

By the time the sun had begun setting...

The original purpose of the meeting had transformed completely.

It wasn't a lecture anymore.

It had become...

A planning session.

An entire village...

Planning its future.

I quietly stepped back from the center of the crowd.

No one noticed.

Which...

Honestly...

Was exactly how I preferred it.

I leaned against one of the shrine pillars.

Watching.

Listening.

Children laughed as they took turns peering into the Camera Obscura.

Scholars debated lens curvature.

Blacksmiths argued over casting techniques.

Carpenters sketched improved support frames.

Nobody was asking me what to do anymore.

They were asking one another.

I smiled.

Lady Sayuri quietly appeared beside me.

Neither of us spoke for a while.

She simply watched the courtyard with me.

Finally...

She broke the silence.

"...Do you see it?"

I nodded.

"...Yeah. They don't need me."

"No."

She corrected gently.

"They no longer need you to begin."

I looked across the sanctuary one last time.

The Camera Obscura sat surrounded by laughing children.

The printing press sketches had disappeared into the hands of excited craftsmen.

The steam engine blueprints were already being copied.

Ideas...

Were spreading.

Exactly as I'd hoped they would.

For the first time since arriving in the Kitsune Sanctuary...

I truly believed...

It would continue growing...

Even after I was gone.
--------------------
A/N: And done. kuwebby2, what do you think?