Firing the First Bricks
When I came to my senses, the sun was already dipping low in the sky. Back at the workshop, I neatly stacked the dirt I'd hauled in the cart off to one side of the open lot. Staring at the pile made it hit me just how much of the day had slipped away. I disassembled the makeshift sieve and leaned the branches against the inner wall of the building for later use in making proper tools. I tore the gathered vines along their fibers and draped them over the branches, and suddenly it looked like a real workshop—giving me a strange sense of accomplishment.
Ah, right. There was magic.
Only after finishing the cleanup did the idea of using magic pop into my head. The tedious process of naturally drying materials could be solved in an instant with a bit of magical help. But casting spells directly consumed too much mana and gave me a splitting headache, so I wanted to avoid that. It'd be easier to use the magic circle plank I'd made before. The plank was in my room at the manor, but with the sun already setting, trekking back there felt like a hassle. I'd put it to good use starting tomorrow.
"That's it for today. Let's go buy some stuff."
"Yes!"
Clay brushed the dirt off herself and replied energetically. We gave the empty cart a quick clean, then headed to the village center to buy supplies. We needed a large quantity of firewood for firing bricks and pottery, jars for the sedimentation process, and basic furniture to boost workshop efficiency.
The village had woodcutters and carpenters, but I didn't have the connections to deal directly with them. Plus, pottery like jars came from merchant caravans from the city and cost a pretty penny. Things like jars and plates were consumables that could break anytime, even with care, so villagers usually grabbed what they needed from the general store in a pinch.
The general store was like the village's everything shop, stocking household goods, firewood, charcoal, you name it. When we arrived, the streets were buzzing with farmers heading home after a day's work.
"Welcome, young master. How can I help you?"
The shopkeeper greeted us, and I picked out twelve medium-sized jars—about ten liters each. They were actually cooking pots, the largest available locally. Anything bigger was imported from the city and cost a whole silver coin apiece. Buying twelve jars wiped out twelve silver coins in a flash. That left me with thirteen.
Firewood for half a cartload ran fifteen silver coins, according to the shopkeeper. With Clay's wages to pay, it was too steep for my current funds.
I'm going to spend it all before I even make any money.
Next time I hauled dirt, I'd gather usable dry branches from the forest myself. Tables and chairs were pricier than expected, so I skipped those for now. What was left would cover about two months of Clay's pay. Best to save it. I'd have a chance to earn more bounty on the next patrol, so no need to rush.
We loaded the jars onto the cart and stowed them neatly inside the workshop building back at the site. More would be nice, but these pots weren't ideal for sedimentation shape-wise, and they were expensive. Once I built the kiln, it'd be way more economical to fire my own jars to spec. Since Clay would be doing the work anyway, I could have her practice a few batches to build her skills fast.
I returned the horse to the stable and headed back to the manor with Clay. Servants popped up out of nowhere, swarming her like they'd been waiting. The new girl was a hit after so long without fresh blood. Leaving the bewildered Clay behind, I went to my room for dinner. I packed the magic circle plank for tomorrow, circulated my inner aura with some light magic practice, and turned in.
The next morning, I arrived early at the workshop and got straight to sedimentation. It was a basic separation method using how particles of different sizes settle at different speeds in water. First, I filled the jars with the gathered dirt, mixed in water to make a thin slurry, and let it sit. After an hour, the heaviest, largest feldspar particles sank to the bottom. Carefully pouring the muddy water into other jars separated it out.
Leave the transferred slurry for ten hours, and feldspar settles. Let the remaining water sit another two weeks, and you'd have kaolin clay.
"All done!"
Clay shook water from her hands and shouted cheerfully. We'd filled six jars with the piled dirt to start the slurry. While waiting for settling, we made a proper sieve with vines and branches. Using the magic plank to dry the wood thoroughly, I whittled sturdy branches into a frame, then twisted vine fibers into tight lattice cords and wove them densely across it.
Glancing at the sky midway, about an hour had passed, so I poured off the water from the feldspar-settled jars into empties and stacked the separated feldspar inside the building. Back to the sieve, we sized it to a one-meter square to fit Clay's small frame. Testing with piled dirt, it was way handier than the makeshift one.
By the time we finished, it was lunchtime. We sat by the cart and ate the food we'd brought. Feldspar wouldn't settle till evening, so we gathered more dirt and firewood in the meantime. I borrowed a horse again, hauled dirt from the forest twice, and collected firewood.
Back at the workshop, phase two settling was about done as expected. I transferred the clearer upper water with feldspar settled, scraped the feldspar powder from the bottoms, and piled it inside. For the final settling phase, I could use the empties. I filled three of the six empties with fresh dirt slurry. First-phase settling would finish by quitting time.
"Clay, now we're kneading the piled dirt to make brick molds."
I taught her how to make brick-forming molds—20cm x 10cm x 5cm, sized a bit larger to account for shrinkage during drying and firing. Clay started clumsy, kneading the dirt, but after a few tries, she had decent molds. Her racial knack for fine work let her learn faster than I could teach.
I had her hand-form some bricks without molds too—these would be consumables for a temporary kiln to fire the molds themselves. The sky was turning red before we knew it. I moved the day's molds and bricks inside and tidied up.
I had patrol tomorrow.
"While I'm out on external patrol, make bricks. If you run out of dirt, don't force it—rest at the manor."
"Yes!"
The fresh ones needed days to dry properly anyway. The settling jars wouldn't be done till after two patrols. After this three-day, two-night patrol, we'd start the real kiln build.
Riding home into the sunset with Clay, I sketched the kiln structure in my head. The first real product was almost ready.
After finishing external patrol and returning to the village, I headed straight to the workshop the next day. I'd spotted a bear during patrol, took it down, and the bounty had thickened my wallet a bit. But my mind was all on the bricks Clay had left behind.
Opening the workshop door revealed stacks of bricks she'd diligently made. Good weather in my absence meant the indoor bricks and molds had dried smooth without cracks. Tapping the surface gave a dull, solid thunk—perfectly dry.
"Good work, Clay. Now we'll fire these bad boys."
Her eyes sparkled as she asked how. Together, we built a temporary kiln in the front lot. Without a proper setup, we'd use the dried bricks themselves as walls and firing stock in a primitive pit kiln design. We laid a flat brick base, stacked bricks into a square chimney shape leaving vents for air and firewood at the bottom, filled the inner space with a lattice of bricks, and capped it with more bricks on top.
To seal heat leaks between outer walls, we slathered thick mud paste into every gap. We crammed the inner voids with the dry branches I'd gathered last forest run. All set, I lit the firebox.
A small flame crept up the branches at first, then roared to life, blasting heat into the kiln. White smoke curled from the seams with the crackling pops.
"Keep the fire going till quitting time today. Watch it and feed wood steadily so it doesn't die."
Soon the kiln's heat scorched the lot. Now time would do the rest. This was the monumental moment I started producing bricks in this world.