Chapter 540: Water.

The next morning in the Heights did not… feel like a morning, especially behind the Walls where the Stonefangs and the Velmourns now slept together.

Yes, they were all in different quarters, separate from each other, but for the first time in twelve hundred years, there was no Wall between them and… that made them anxious.

The Velmourns, especially those living in quarters close to the Stonefang Quarter, feared that the Stonefangs would attack them in the night.

After all, the Velmourns knew that the Stonefangs very much had the power to annihilate them, especially if they targeted only a single quarter. The Velmourns would never stand a chance.

The Stonefangs were no different; they feared all the Velmourns would surround them and attack them together. The Stonefangs were strong, yes, but if one thousand of them faced ten thousand of the enemies,

then it was a numerical disadvantage even they couldn’t overcome with just their strength alone.

Yes, both sides were anxious, fearing they might not see the next morning’s sun but…

None of what they were fearing happened. The next morning’s sun was there—somewhere behind the gray veil of the clouds—but it gave no warmth.

The wind scraped along the Wall like a knife, and every breath felt like it carried little needles into the lungs.

And the city moved.

No, it wasn’t because the people were brave.

It was because the people needed to drink.

Water was not a “thing” in the Heights.

It was a chain of survival—snow, fire, time, discipline. Break one link and a family died quietly in the night.

And today, that very chain was being stretched across two enemies.

The Iron Council had solved water long ago, but it had never been simple.

Snow was everywhere, yes. But snow was not water until it became liquid, and liquid was not safe until it was boiled, and boiling demanded heat, and heat demanded… fuel.

This was one of the reasons wood was so precious, the reason why the council elders panicked when the enemies burned the trees near the Wall.

Velmourn children grew up learning one lesson before they learned letters:

“Fire is life. Waste it, and you steal from tomorrow.”

That was why the ’water system’ existed.

The Council had “snow-collectors”—workers chosen for strong lungs and steady hands, sent out weekly to gather clean snow from the designated “clean zones.”

Places upwind—places away from the smoke of kitchens and the ash of chimneys.

Places where the snow was white and clean, not grey.

Of course, the Velmourns knew that even the white snow could be dirty, their ancestors had lost numerous people before they figured that out and that lesson was passed down through generations.

Wind could carry grit. A bird could pass above. A beast could shake dust off its fur. There were numerous ways even white snow could be dirty. So the snow-collectors did not just scoop and dump.

They… inspected.

They learned the shape of clean snow, the feel of it, the… smell of it.

Then the collected snow came to the Water Houses—thick stone rooms built to trap heat, built around big iron pots that had been repaired a hundred times, and would be repaired a hundred more.

Inside those pots, the Water Wardens followed the same routine every day:

Keep a little water in the pot first so the snow did not scorch and waste heat.

Melt slow, not fast. A roaring fire felt good, but it was foolish—slow heat saved fuel.

Then, filter the water. First the cloth, then sand, and then charcoal.

Next was to boil the filtered water—not a quick bubble, a long, full boil. Long enough that no one had to… pray after drinking it.

And finally—

Seal and store the prepared water in large containers that were then distributed to the people every week. Yes, the people received an entire week’s worth of drinking water at the same time. Any less was inefficient and any more would be… a waste.

The thought was simple—

What if someone died with months’ worth of drinkable water inside their Sanctuary?

Since a person’s Sanctuary seals permanently the moment they perish, that would waste too much drinking water and… in living conditions as… heavy as in the Heights, wastage was not an option, even if it was just water, a resource widely available, one of the few resources the Velmourns did not lack most of the time.

But today…

The Velmourns needed to share this widely available but much more precious resource with… people they once considered their mortal enemies.

And this was the reason that even though the sun had barely come out yet, the Alliance Council had already gathered.

Yes, not the Iron Council, but the Alliance Council. A council that didn’t just have the Iron Council Elders, but also Gruumak, the Stonefang Chief, and Zakaar, the Stonefang Translator, and of course, Kael and Lavinia.

A Council that had no clear leader but… a council that still needed to make decisions, fast and accurate decisions.

“Thank you for gathering here so urgently.”

Morvain, sitting at the centre, sighed with a tired look on her face. The elders had not slept much.

Nobody had.

The alliance had been declared. Rules had been drafted. Patrols had doubled. The Stonefangs were inside the Wall, and every corner of the city felt like it was waiting for a… spark. For something to happen, something… ominous.

Morvain’s heavy eyes moved, first at Kael, who was sitting with a calm look on his face; beside him sat Lavinia, her hands folded and her face sharp. The rest of the elders seemed ready for the meeting as well, and then finally—

Morvain’s eyes fell on him.

Gruumak, the Iron Jae.

It was still strange to see him there—his massive shoulders filling the seat like the chair was too small for him, his presence making the chamber feel crowded even when it was not.

“Vornak zul’raak draal’ven so zor’kaar.”

Zakaar, who sat beside his chief, silently translated Morvain’s words for him, to which Gruumak nodded at the woman.

Morvain nodded back, then, she closed her eyes to get a moment for herself, and when she was prepared—

“We are gathered here today for something very important.”

She began as she looked at every single person present here. Zakaar continued to translate her words for Gruumak silently and—

“Water Distribution.”

Morvain declared.

Aelindra, the Warden of Provision and the person usually responsible for it, nodded.

“It is, but I believe that even if we delay it for a day, people would still ha—”

She tried to speak but—

“We won’t.”

Lavinia shook her head, interrupting her. She then looked at the Warden of Provision and—

“Delays happen when something out of expectation happens or when leaders aren’t prepared for whatever’s happening.

It is a sign of weakness.

And the last thing we want is for the people to feel that we are not ready.

Everything should happen as it should, unless there is a strong reason for it to not.”

The mage spoke and Aelindra… she nodded silently, understanding those words.

Just then—

“But the issue of distribution still exists.”

Tarevian, the Voice of the Commonfolk, spoke up.

“The rules we created before do not have anything regarding Water Houses, it might make the situation… chaotic.”

He mentioned the problem.

“We can distribute separately.”

Just then—

Korvath leaned forward slightly, his eyes on the table as if he was reading a map only he could see.

“Velmourn line here. Stonefang line there.

If there is no contact, there will be no chaos.”

Those words made sense and almost all elders nodded at them, but—

“No.”

Morvain shook her head.

“Matriarch—”

Tarevian tried to speak but Morvain cut him off as she raised her hand.

“We decided unity.”

She spoke with a solemn look on her face.

“We don’t get to chase it only when it is easy.”

Tarevian’s jaw tightened at those words.

“This is water.

Not a feast or a ceremony.

It’s a pressure point.

People will fight over water.”

He warned.

“They’ll fight over anything,”

Morvain replied.

“That’s why we make rules and enforce them.”

And just then—

Kael lifted his gaze.

“And that’s why we set it up properly,”

Morvain looked at him for a moment, and in an instant, she realized he had an idea.

“Explain,”

She ordered, making the rest frown as to what was there to explain but Kael just smiled.

“As Lavinia said before, we change things when something out of our expectation happens. That didn’t happen, so there is no need to change anything.”

“What do you mean?”

Aelindra frowned.

“It is clear.”

Kael spoke as he leaned forward.

“We keep the same system as before.

Two quarters per water point.”

And those words changed the expression of the Velmourn Elders.

“But that would…”

Aelindra’s face turned grim.

And Kael nodded—

“Yes. One Velmourn Quarter will share the same Water Point with the Stonefang Quarter.”

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