# Chapter 01 Input — The New Arithmetic

**Target length:** 4,000–5,000 words.

## Scene Goals

- Open Book 3 in domestic register at Chandler's Row. Settled, not dramatic.
- Establish Mere's pregnancy through **texture, not announcement** — morning sickness treated as a scheduling conflict, not a reveal. Reader infers.
- Update house plans to revision 12–13. Nursery locked in adjacent to the east-facing kitchen. Nursery language is possible on-page *because* the Book 2 Ch21 children conversation already happened.
- **Fire training status update (passing, not a beat):** the Book 2 15s plateau cracked in winter. Phelan and Leon's daily work is now pushing past 15s without tremor. One or two sentences in passing. No scene.
- Devod visits. Recovered from the draining, slightly quieter. Has opinions about nurseries.
- **Marriage filing at the Drenwick court house.** By end of chapter, Phelan and Mere are legally registered as spouses under crown civil contract. Drafter's call whether the filing happens on-page this chapter (small, unceremonial, characteristic) or has already happened in the gap between books. Either way: Devod, Leon, Carter, Carson, and Ledger do not yet know.
- **Moss hybrid — texture only, no beat yet.** Brass microscope on the kitchen table with a magic-ground lens. A Moonswell tray in the window catching moonlight through a lattice panel Mere built. Jars of ghostveil in her workshop corner. These are set dressing; the breakthrough is Ch03.
- One paragraph on the gap-between-books origin of the moss project: Ledger forced 3–4 days of rest after the Book 2 close, Phelan went stir-crazy inside 24 hours, turned up at Thresholds offering to help Mere with her lab work. "Helping Mere" does not register in his noise as work, so he accepts it as rest. Project has been iterating for weeks — failures, near-misses, one promising lead. Breakthrough has not yet happened.
- **One-line Compact-pushback seed:** a throwaway reference that WellsMoon, if it works, would break the ghostveil chokehold the Compact has on herbalists like Kae. Do not develop further this chapter.
- **End on a guild summons from Ledger.** Bridges directly into Ch02 (The File).

## Key Dialog

- No canonical lines dictated by the outline for this chapter.
- If marriage filing is on-page: keep it small, unceremonial, characteristic. Clerk's exchange should read as paperwork, not ritual. Probably one or two lines apiece.
- Devod's nursery opinions: he has them. Not a speech. He's quieter now.
- Phelan's end-of-chapter reaction to the summons should be terse — the noise does most of the work.

## Character Moments

- **Phelan and Mere.** Domestic rhythm. The way two people who have decided to stay move around a shared kitchen. Precision, no performance. He watches her manage the morning sickness on her own schedule and logs it; she lets him.
- **The private marriage decision is now a shared, ordinary fact between them.** Whatever the filing looks like, it's not a Moment — it's an errand. That's the point.
- **Devod visit.** Recovered. Slightly quieter than the pre-draining version. Idea machine still on, but dialed down. Opinions about nurseries are opinions — not performances.
- **Fire training status as texture.** No reveal, no pride beat. Just a line or two that tells the reader the plateau is gone.
- **Kimbra absence.** She's coming in Ch04; not named this chapter. The shape of the silence (no recent letters) can be implicit through Phelan's noise if it fits, but don't force it.
- **The noise.** Establishing chapter for Book 3 — target 4–6 parentheticals. Medium length, mostly domestic-register tangents. One can quietly register the pregnancy before the prose does, if it lands.

## Mood / Tone

- **Settled, not dramatic.** Book 3 opens after a win. The stakes are already in the room (pregnancy, the Compact nursing a grievance offstage), but this chapter is the before.
- Register is closer to Book 2 Ch21 than to anything in Act 1 of Book 2. Warm, domestic, a touch wry.
- **Pacing: discursive.** This is an establishing chapter, not an action chapter. Longer sentences allowed; the voice can breathe. Noise parentheticals tend medium-length rather than clipped.
- **Understatement on the important things.** Pregnancy is texture. Marriage is paperwork. Fire training is a shrug. The guild summons at the end should land harder *because* the chapter has refused to raise its voice up to that point.
- Humor: dry, low-volume. Devod can bring a beat of his own register when he visits, but the chapter's baseline is quiet.

## Freeform Notes

- **KDP formatting from the first draft.** Em dashes `—`, smart quotes, `* * *` scene breaks, `(*italicised parentheses*)` for the noise.
- **Marriage filing decision** - Book 2 already had them filed and married on paper, even had a party in the epilogue.
- **Moss hybrid is set dressing this chapter.** Do not stage the fusion. Do not let Phelan use Flaw Sight at the microscope yet. The Ch03 cold open owns that moment.
- **Do not name WellsMoon yet.** Mere hasn't earned the name until Gen 0 is viable (Ch03). Refer to the project descriptively — "the hybrid," "Mere's moss," "the ghostveil project" — and the one-line Compact-pushback reference should describe the idea, not the name.
- **Ledger grooming:** stay quiet this chapter. The briefing in Ch02 carries the grooming hint. Don't leak it here.
- **Secrets in play** (no one outside Phelan + Mere knows): the pregnancy, the Book 2 Ch21 children conversation, the fire plateau break. Keep that containment tight. The first reveals start in Ch03 (Devod, private).
- **Close on the summons.** Make it small. A courier, a note, a knock. Do not show the contents. The noise files it and the chapter ends. Ch02 opens on the walk to Ledger's office.

## Opening Block (approved draft)

Pre-first-scene block bridging the Book 2 → Book 3 four-month gap. Sits before the first `* * *` into Chandler's Row proper. ~370 words.

**Canon anchored:** Book 2 epilogue line *"I have something that needs the kind of mind you have"* is remembered verbatim. Phelan fulfilled *"I'll come"* on Day 4, was turned away with *"When it's ready, I'll send for you. Keep your tools warm."* Four months of waiting follow. The Ch01-closing summons IS that sending — clean hand-off into Ch02 briefing.

**New canon introduced by this block** (flag for character/world files on Stage 5 commit):
- Ledger line *"When it's ready, I'll send for you. Keep your tools warm."* → add to `characters/ledger.md`
- Thaumometer texture: 70 yards on a still day, earth-keyed workings preferred over fire, lens softens at map edge "like glass holding focus a heartbeat too long" → add to `world/magic/` or thaumometer entry on Stage 5
- Leon/Phelan dockside thaumometer testing afternoon (Phelan throwing chalk marks, Leon throwing fire, map in real time) — referenced, not staged

**The block:**

> *Take three or four days for yourself. Then come see me. I have something that needs the kind of mind you have.*
>
> I'll come, I'd said.
>
> I'd come. Four days later, on the nose, because three was below the floor Ledger would have respected and five would have been theatre. Walked into the office. Sat down. Waited.
>
> He hadn't had anything yet.
>
> *When it's ready, I'll send for you. Keep your tools warm.*
>
> That was four months ago.
>
> (*Four months of a man with my particular brain doing nothing. Somebody should have warned him.*)
>
> I had helped Mere. Told myself, and the noise, and anyone who asked, that I was there to help. I was, some of the time, actually helping. Helping Mere did not count as work. This was a definition I had arrived at myself and had no intention of examining.
>
> Four months of moss. Lattice panels, Moonswell trays on a schedule Mere had logged to the quarter-bell, ghostveil jars in three sizes, failures stacked on a shelf she wouldn't let me throw out. One lead that hadn't broken yet and might not tonight. I had opinions about cell walls I had not previously expected to acquire.
>
> In the hours that were mine — and there were more of them than I was used to — I had been taking the thaumometer apart without actually taking it apart. Ledger's parting gift. Pre-Compact. Fifty yards of range on paper. I had it at seventy on a still day. The lens softened at the edge of its map like glass holding focus a heartbeat too long. It preferred earth-keyed workings to fire by a factor I hadn't pinned down. Leon and I spent an afternoon on an unused dockside lot, him throwing fire at chalk marks and me watching the lens draw the flare in real time at distances the manual had not mentioned.
>
> (*He gave it to me because he needed me to have something. Four months ago he'd known he was going to make me wait.*)
>
> Through all of it, the noise. Three threads at any hour — the moss, the thaumometer, and whatever Ledger still wasn't telling me — riffing, arguing, occasionally synthesising something useful and more often synthesising a headache. I was not going mad. I was, by the standards of the thing that lived in my head, within tolerances.
>
> I just wanted the case.
>
> Ledger, when he was ready, would send for me.
