Rem stayed awake all night.
Not because he was afraid.
At least, that was what he told himself.
The problem was that whenever he closed his eyes, he remembered that man's smile in front of the window.
It hadn't been a threatening smile.
It was worse.
It was the smile of someone who had found a clue.
Rem turned onto his side.
The small notebook lay open on the table.
Aldren. Harlen. Merchants. Routes.
He needed a route.
But he couldn't simply choose any road.
He needed one Harlen didn't control.
The next morning, Rem left before sunrise.
He dressed in silence and left the house without waking anyone.
Or at least, that's what he thought.
“Where are you going?”
Rem stopped.
Edgar was sitting near the barn.
“You were waiting for me?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I wake up early.”
Rem looked at the still-dark sky.
“Very early.”
Edgar shrugged.
“So do you.”
The two of them stood in silence.
“Are you going to do something dangerous?”
Rem took a deep breath.
“Maybe.”
Edgar stood up.
“Then I'm coming with you.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don't know what I'm going to do.”
“You don't either.”
Rem opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Edgar smiled.
“See?”
Rem shook his head.
“You're annoying.”
“My mother says that too.”
The two of them started walking.
The old road lay behind a small rise, almost hidden by the vegetation.
Rem had discovered it the day before while listening to two older workers talking.
It was an old trade road.
Once used by wagons.
Now almost forgotten.
“You're sure it goes through here?” Edgar asked.
“I am.”
“It looks abandoned.”
“That's exactly why.”
The path was overgrown with weeds.
In some places, it was almost impossible to tell that it had ever been a road.
Rem walked slowly, observing everything.
Old wheel tracks.
Stones laid along the sides.
A small bridge over a stream.
There were still signs that someone had used the passage in the past.
After almost an hour, they reached a fork.
Rem stopped.
To the left, the road continued toward a region of small farms.
To the right, it vanished among the trees.
Edgar pointed.
“Which one?”
Rem stared at them.
“Left.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the right one looks too old.”
Edgar frowned.
“That's your logic?”
“No.”
Rem pointed at the ground.
“Look at the tracks.”
There were recent wheel tracks.
Not many.
But they were there.
“Someone uses this path.”
Edgar smiled.
“Then let's find out who.”
They found their answer soon afterward.
A wagon appeared on the road.
It was old.
Pulled by a horse that was just as old.
A middle-aged man was sitting in front.
When he saw the two boys, he slowed down.
“Are you lost?”
“No,” Rem replied.
The man looked at him.
“Then what are you doing here?”
Rem thought quickly.
“Looking for a road.”
The man laughed.
“You're on one.”
“A road that doesn't pass through Viscount Harlen's territory.”
The smile disappeared.
Edgar looked at Rem.
The man remained silent for a few seconds.
“Who sent you?”
“No one.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Rem stepped forward.
“My name is Rem Aldren.”
The man's expression grew even more serious.
“Aldren?”
“Yes.”
The man looked at Edgar.
Then back at Rem.
“What do you want?”
“To sell.”
“Sell what?”
“Products from our land.”
The man laughed.
“So you're the ones responsible for the sales happening in the city?”
Rem didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
The man let out a sigh.
“I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“That someone was behind it.”
He climbed down from the wagon.
“My name is Tomas.”
Rem held out his hand.
Tomas hesitated, then shook it.
“You're playing with fire.”
“Why?”
“Because Harlen's men don't use this road.”
Rem smiled.
“Then it's exactly what we're looking for.”
Tomas didn't smile.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
The man looked at the two boys.
“Years ago, this road was used by small farmers. They sold directly to merchants from other regions.”
“What happened?”
“Harlen started charging fees.”
“On this road?”
“Not officially.”
Rem understood.
“He made the road difficult to use.”
“Exactly.”
“And people stopped using it.”
Tomas nodded.
“Some sold their land. Others started working for larger estates.”
Rem fell silent.
It was worse than he had imagined.
Harlen hadn't simply taken control.
He had built dependence.
Then called it order.
“Can this road still be used?” Rem asked.
Tomas looked at the path.
“Technically.”
“And in practice?”
“It needs repairs.”
Rem looked at Edgar.
Edgar was already smiling.
“How much?”
Tomas looked surprised.
“How much what?”
“How much will it cost to fix?”
That afternoon, Rem returned home with a list.
It wasn't a short list.
Stone.
Wood.
Labor.
A section of the bridge.
Clearing the path.
And, above all, time.
Aldric read it all in silence.
Then he looked up.
“You want to repair a road?”
“Yes.”
“To sell products?”
“Yes.”
One that doesn't pass through the route controlled by the Viscount?
“Yes.”
Aldric closed his eyes.
“Rem...”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
Aldric placed the paper on the table.
“If this road starts being used again, Harlen will notice.”
“He's already noticed.”
Silence.
Aldric stared at his son.
Rem held his gaze.
“If we keep selling through the current routes, he'll find a way to stop us.”
“And if we build another one?”
“He may try to stop that one too.”
“Then what's the difference?”
Rem answered without hesitation:
“This time, we choose which way to go.”
Aldric stared at him.
For a few seconds, he didn't seem to know whether he should laugh or worry.
Elara was standing near the door.
She had heard everything.
“Aldric...”
He ran a hand over his face.
“I know.”
“He's right.”
Aldric looked at her.
“You too?”
Elara smiled.
“I'm just starting to realize that our son doesn't intend to give us a quiet life.”
Rem lowered his head.
“Sorry.”
Elara came closer and kissed his forehead.
“I didn't say it was a bad thing.”
The work began over the next few days.
Aldric managed to convince some workers to clear the first stretch.
Tomas brought information about the bridge.
Edgar showed up every day.
And so did Celine.
“You can't carry that,” Edgar said when he saw Celine trying to lift a stone.
“Yes, I can.”
“No, you can't.”
“Yes, I can.”
Rem took the stone from her hands.
“He's right.”
Celine pouted.
“Everybody's bossing me around.”
Rem laughed.
“You're six years old.”
“So what?”
“So you should be playing.”
“I am playing.”
She pointed at the road.
“This is fun.”
Edgar looked at Rem.
“She’s weird.”
“I heard that!”
The three of them laughed.
For a few minutes, there were no Viscounts, taxes, or threats.
Only three children covered in dirt, trying to repair an old road.
And maybe that was exactly what Rem needed.
To remember that he was still a child.
Even if his mind carried an entire lifetime.
On the fifth day, the bridge was finished.
Not perfectly.
But it was sturdy.
Rem walked to the other side.
He tested the wood with his foot.
Nothing happened.
Edgar came after him.
“It worked.”
Rem looked at the road.
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“Now we need someone willing to use it.”
Tomas appeared shortly afterward.
He brought a small wagon.
“I'll use it.”
Rem smiled.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Rem laughed.
“At least you're honest.”
Tomas shook his head.
“But someone has to be first.”
He climbed onto the wagon.
Before leaving, he looked at Rem.
“If this works...”
“Yes?”
“Other people will want to use it.”
Rem looked at the road.
“That's the idea.”
The wagon started moving.
Slowly.
It crossed the bridge.
Kept going.
And disappeared among the trees.
Edgar watched it go.
“Do you realize what you just did?”
Rem nodded.
“I think so.”
“You reopened a road.”
Rem fell silent.
No.
He had done more than that.
He had created an alternative.
And alternatives were dangerous for anyone who controlled the main road.
That same night, at an estate far from there, a man placed a report on a desk.
Viscount Harlen read it in silence.
“The Aldrens' production has increased?”
“Yes.”
“And the sales?”
“Those too.”
“Through the usual routes?”
The man hesitated.
“We aren't sure.”
Harlen looked up.
“You aren't sure?”
“We found signs of activity on an old road.”
Harlen went still.
“Which one?”
The man told him its name.
The Viscount's expression changed.
Very slightly.
But it changed.
“That road has been abandoned for years.”
“Apparently not anymore.”
Harlen leaned back in his chair.
“Who's doing this?”
“We don't know yet.”
Harlen looked at the report again.
Then he smiled.
“Find out.”
The man nodded.
“And, my lord...”
“Yes?”
“There are rumors that it's the Count's son.”
Harlen fell silent.
“A child?”
“Yes.”
The Viscount let out a short laugh.
“A child couldn't do this.”
He closed the report.
“Find out who's teaching the child.”
Rem was sitting on his bed that night.
The notebook was open again.
He wrote:
Road working.
He stopped.
Then added:
First buyer.
And below that:
Harlen knows.
Rem closed the notebook.
He should have been worried.
And he was.
But another feeling was growing inside him.
Determination.
For the first time since he had arrived in that world, he wasn't merely reacting to what happened.
He was creating something.
And perhaps that was exactly why Harlen had started watching him.
Rem lay down.
Before closing his eyes, he thought of Edgar.
Of Celine.
Of Elara.
Of Aldric.
Then he thought of the man he had been in São Paulo.
A man who had worked until his body could take no more.
A man who had never had the chance to build anything for himself.
Rem closed his eyes.
“This time...” he murmured.
The sentence remained unfinished.
He didn't need to finish it.
He already knew what it meant.
This time, he wouldn't be crushed by the road.
He would build his own path.
Even if someone powerful was waiting at the end of it.