Lars's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Lars swept snow from the workshop cabin's floor, his fingers tugging at his glove straps between each pass of the broom. The wind outside rattled the windows, bringing the first storm closer with every gust. He'd come to Whitehaven to teach survival skills, to finally share what he knew with people who might need it. But the workshop cabin felt too cramped, too industrial for what he wanted to show people. He needed somewhere with warmth that didn't come from electricity alone. The modest stone cottage near the edge of the settlement caught his eye—smoke puffing from its chimney, walls thick enough to keep out the coming storm. Lars cleared the snow from around the arched doorway and arranged benches inside, close enough to the hearth that students could see his hands work. He set kindling by the fire, laid out rope for knot-tying, positioned a map on the table. Everything ready. His chest tightened as he stepped back and looked at the empty seats. The wind picked up outside, and he pulled at his glove straps again, wondering if anyone would brave the weather to learn from a man they barely knew.