The first eastern receiver took water on the morning of day fourteen hundred and fifty-six.
Nyla opened the small feed while Neri watched the new wall. Water entered the stone pocket, rose against its marked levels, and left through the controlled outlet at the planned rate. No damp line appeared behind the retaining face. The fiber crop below remained dry.
The grower stood beside her boundary with both hands on her hips.
“That’s where it stays?”
“For this turn,” Nyla said. “We have a higher mark for the next one, not today.”
The woman nodded. She had seen enough promises made from the top of a field. This one had brought a wall, an outlet she could reach, and a level she could watch herself.
Iven helped the crew fit the ordinary shutter handle beneath its weather cover. The handle could be worked from the bank without climbing into the receiver. A painted board showed the current limit in marks large enough to read across the path.
At noon the local operators closed the feed and drained the pocket.
