Natti Lancaster's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

Natti spread her notebook across the kitchen table and reviewed every instructor contact she'd gathered. Seven names, seven different specialties. She'd need to visit each one personally—letters wouldn't cut it for something this important. Her pencil tapped against the paper as she calculated travel time and costs. Fort Orynth was just the beginning. The real experts might be scattered across multiple towns, and she'd have to convince each one that her school was worth their time. The first trip took her back through Fort Orynth and then three hours east to Ivanpath Village. She'd heard the town had farming history, and she wanted to see what worked. The Ivanpath Farm Museum and Cultural Heritage Center stood at the edge of the settlement—a ranch-style building painted green and brown with yellow trim. White letters spelled out its name across the front. Natti pushed through the door and spent two hours studying displays of old tools, crop rotation diagrams, and photos of farmers from fifty years back. Someone had cared enough to preserve all this knowledge. Her tail swished as she took notes. This was what she wanted her school to become someday—a place where learning didn't disappear. On her way out of Ivanpath, she passed a grass park bordered by neat small shrubs. A few people sat on the ground in the shade, talking quietly. Students could gather like this between lessons, she thought. They'd need outdoor spaces, not just classrooms. She made a note about adding benches near the school buildings. Near the park's edge, she spotted a rosette succulent growing wild—thick leaves arranged in a perfect spiral, topped with tiny pink flowers. She crouched down and examined it closely. The plant survived on almost nothing. It would be perfect for teaching students about water efficiency and adaptation. She carefully dug it up and wrapped the roots in damp cloth from her pack. Walking back toward the road, Natti tucked the succulent into her bag and reviewed her notes. She'd seen how other places honored their farming past and created spaces for people to share ideas. Her school could do both. The instructors she planned to visit would want to see that she understood what teaching required—not just buildings, but gathering places and practical examples. She adjusted her glasses and started the walk home. Tomorrow she'd contact the soil science expert two towns over. Today, she'd learned that a good school needed more than classrooms. It needed reminders of what came before and room for what came next.