With the land now yielding food, traders came. Merchants from neighboring villages traveled across the desert to see the miracle of a growing oasis. What had once been a forgotten outpost was now something more.
It was thriving. And with that, new problems arose.
People came seeking trade, but also seeking leadership. Disputes over land and water rights arose between villagers, and they turned to me for judgment. Me. A soldier.
"I fight wars," I told them one evening when a disagreement over irrigation paths escalated to near blows. "I do not settle disputes."
But they only stared at me, waiting. Expecting.
I had once been a leader of soldiers, and now I was a leader of farmers, merchants, and survivors. The weight of it sat differently on my shoulders, but it was a burden nonetheless.
When had this place become mine?
I could no longer pretend I was only waiting to return to war. This land was changing me.