As the sky began to fill with starlight, the people of Ciara gathered in the plaza, their excitement palpable.

  The warm glow of the setting sun bathed the square in soft hues, but it was the glow of community and shared effort that really made the night come alive.

  Agnes stood at the center, directing her husband Gregory and his group of men as they assembled the buffet.

  Long tables laden with dishes stretched across the plaza, and the aroma of roasted meats and baked goods wafted through the air.

  Around the edges of the square, a group of youngsters who had recently begun learning the letters eagerly labeled everything, their enthusiasm evident.

  Lucian couldn't help but giggle as he looked over one sign that read "Menyu." The spelling was all wrong, of course, but the excitement on the children's faces was undeniable.

  Oh well. They seem to be enjoying themselves. We should let them be.

  "Should I have some of these 'Smowkt Mitt' as well as these 'Rowsted Poltree'?" Lucian thought, grinning at the cute labels.

  But he was pulled from his thoughts by a voice behind him.

  "I thought you were going to cook?" Theo asked, suddenly popping beside him.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Lucian turned to face him.

  You're quite persistent. Now, how do I distract you?

  An idea flashed through Lucian's mind. He glanced over to a group of women who were standing idly by, giggling as they flipped through the pages of Marcus's printed experiment from earlier.

  "Theo, you have enhanced physical capabilities," Lucian said, tapping his chin. "Can you hear what they're talking about?"

  Theo's eyes immediately darted over to the group of women, and a blush crept across his face.

  "It's just gossip," he muttered, his voice stiff.

  Lucian smirked. "Hmm. Then why is your face like that? Did you perhaps fall in love with one of those girls?"

  "Nonsense," Theo replied hastily, before turning and scurrying away.

  Lucian watched him go, amused.

  Hehe. Good job, ladies.

  But then his curiosity piqued.

  What in the world are they reading for Theo to make that expression?

  Just then, Agnes approached with a smirk on her face.

  "It's an eyewitness account about the lifestyle of the most popular boys in the village," Agnes said, appearing at Lucian's side.

  Lucian raised an eyebrow.

  So paparazzi magazines were born even before legitimate newspapers, huh?

  "I see Theo is quite popular among the girls," Lucian said, his voice tinged with amusement.

  "It includes you too, Father," Barret added, cutting in with a cheeky grin.

  "What? That's —"

  "Father!" Marcus waved enthusiastically as he approached, cutting off Lucian's protest.

  "I guess you enjoyed printing, huh?" Lucian said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

  "It's called propaganda. You taught me that." Marcus winked, clearly pleased with himself.

  Lucian sighed.

  I know he means well, but—

  "You're banned from the press from now on," Lucian said firmly.

  "What?! No, please, don't—" Marcus protested, his eyes wide.

  Before Lucian could respond, a burst of laughter and giggles erupted from the crowd as the children poured out of the chapel, freshly finished with their lessons.

  "Father!" Dylan and the other two children came running toward him, their faces beaming with pride.

  "Look, we wrote our names!" Matthew and Luke proudly held up their work.

  "Well done. You've worked hard, everyone. Good job." Lucian patted their heads, his smile warm.

  "Look, Father. I wrote this story!" Dylan said eagerly, holding out a crumpled piece of paper.

  Lucian looked down at the makeshift pages. His heart swelled with pride as he read the child's words, a glimpse into their burgeoning potential.

  This is what it's all about.

  And as the laughter and chatter filled the night air, Lucian couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

  His plans were working. This village, this community, was beginning to grow into what he invisions it to be.