VI. Reformation

Having discovered trade, Alexius began to enthusiastically exchange goods with the other villagers, eager to gather the green emeralds so treasured by the folk there. Initially his main source of income remained selling sticks to Hava Yal the Fletcher, who became more open to the stranger after the passage of a few moons and was now willing to freely trade with him. These bundles of sticks were gathered from the birch forest, where Alexius felled trees for hours on end, greatly expanding the Plain east of the River Mer. From this Hava Yal became a very rich man, and talked with Alexius freely (for by this point the Emperor-to-be was decently capable in the Orancer tongue).

Very quickly, however, Alexius encountered a problem, economic in nature: he could not sell more than five or six bundles of sticks to Hava Yal at a time, though the fletcher had lowered his prices generously. When asked about this, the fletcher responded that he did not have infinite emeralds, and asked Alexius to give him some time while he went to sell the sticks in one of the markets, so that he could come back and buy more bundles, if that was alright with him. And the same was true of every one of the villagers with whom he traded, Arter the Mason with balls of clay and Spayer the Armorer with coal and so on and so forth: they refused to buy more of Alexius's wares at a certain point, for they were deficient of emeralds.

This was the Emperor's first lesson in economics: supply and demand.

Since events of this sort happened very rarely, it was decided among the villagers with whom Alexius regularly traded that they should travel to Market Hane, that major trading center in the west, to restock on their supply and sell the unexpectedly large amount of wares Alexius had sold them. So a group of five villagers assembled at the town square one morning and, accompanied by cries of "Ete sal!", forded the River Mer on horseback and went westward towards the towns of the Plains.

With Hava Yal the Fletcher, Spayer the Armorer, and Arter the Mason (three of the villagers with whom Alexius had most frequently traded, as demonstrated by his preference for their respective guilds later on—but let us not get ahead of ourselves) gone, Alexius mainly performed menial tasks for the farmers for emeralds, helping them harvest their crop and even building his own farm, smaller than the others and next to his own house, to sell carrots and wheat to them. And with his emeralds he bought bread from the farmers, Marad the Carrot-Farmer and Virod the Wheat-Farmer.

Very soon he gained a reputation for generosity. One tale has it that he once stood in the town square and assembled the villagers of Sarfan there; once there was a sizable crowd gathered, he threw bread into the assembled masses, which the villagers there picked up eagerly and, complimenting him greatly for his magnanimity and generosity, sang songs in praise of him. One assumes that he had paid the farmers before this event took place, if it happened at all, so as not to antagonize them. Regardless, the earliest records from this time all emphasize his great generosity. So he made the people of the village love him, and none feared him any more.

As a side effect of this generosity with food, the population of the village started to increase. To celebrate the children of Ramaf the Cartographer and Azel the Butcher, and indeed the arrival of many other children, Alexius built a great number of houses, complete with beds and comfortable furnishings, so that they would not have to build the houses of the children when they matured. For this the people of the village cheered greatly, and before long, the golems were surrounded by crowds of children, each begging for a poppy flower, a popular game in those parts. And emeralds, bread, and words continued to flow like a river between them all.

Finally, he asked Ramaf the Cartographer and his partner Azel the Butcher if he could bless their new child, to which they agreed. So it was on the first day of the fifth moon of that year that Alexius held his hand over the child's head, who was named Efel Yed, and gave him a new, ceremonial name, Jacob. This solemn ritual, which Alexius referred to as a christening ceremony, was held in the old church.

This marked the first imperial naming ceremony in history, and established the convention of villagers having a secondary name in addition to their primary one, which has continued to this day.

The changes made to Sarfan were so great that when Hava Yal and the other villagers returned from Market Hane seven days later, they were greatly shocked and amazed at how their village had been altered. It is said they bowed to Alexius in gratitude and showered him with many gifts, and asked themselves, "Who is this man, who has reshaped the land in such a way?"

"What is this?"

Hava Yal is angry with him, Spayer livid, Arter disappointed. They could see the new buildings from two hundred blocks across the River Mer, they could hear the laughter of the children from the distance, and they froze. Their eyes betray their fear still, concealed with righteous rage. They have heard tales of villages monitored, spotted, overrun by enemies from all sides. They are terrified of what they know is coming.

They are standing in front of Alexius's house, the four of them, and the sun tracks a lazy path down the west. Alexius had come to greet them by the banks of the Mer, but their faces, black and stormy with anger, confused him. Now he struggles to maintain his composure as he forces himself to hear the villagers out.

"I mean, what were you thinking?" Hava Yal's face is reddened and his nose trembles as he hurls abuse at him. Alexius has been silent for minutes and cannot bear the torrent of rage any longer. "Heavens above, man, we have children here, none of us can even begin to fight—you must be insane, by Arahaman, I shouldn't have gone..."

At that moment Hava Yal's face screams cowardice at Alexius and he snaps back, "What the hell's your problem? I built not many houses here, I can defend this—this village. And I put enough torches around—is it the zombies you're scared of? You're a coward if you—"

"Coward?!" Spayer roars. Alexius takes a step back. "You think you're invincible with your armor and weapons, but what do we have, huh? Stone axes and a—a helmet or two? You think you can ward off an army of the undead or the waves of Pillagers? And what do we do if you get killed, accept death?"

"But they don't send patrols out here any more—"

"You weren't there!" Another step back. Spayer's eyes are mad and his voice shakes the heavens. "You haven't fought them, you haven't even seen them, but we have. What do you know about them, you dumb bastard? I've seen them with my own two eyes and they're brutal—they'll gut you, they'll gut us all, Alexius, can't you see?"

Spayer falls silent, panting and murderous. Hava Yal is cowed into silence, unable to add to Spayer's anger. Arter looks at the sky. The other villagers, Sev and Rafam and the farmers and the children, stare at them. The sun begins to dip below the horizon.

Alexius is filled with rage and shame and grief and cannot bring himself to say anything. "I'll—I'll build defenses," he mutters quietly. "I'll build walls, keep the monsters and the Pillagers out. They won't be able to attack us then."

They stare at him and silence fills the gap. At last Spayer sighs a deep sigh and turns around, shaking his head. Hava Yal follows after him, shooting Alexius a look of disgust. Arter looks toward the house and says: "They'll find us, in the end. They always do. And one day we might be worth it." Arter looks into Alexius's eyes morosely. "You made us worth it."

He turns away and joins the other two. The three of them, huddled together, walk away from the house. The sun sinks into the western horizon and the doors of the village shut quietly. There are no "Ete sal"s now. Sarfan is dark and quiet.

The stars begin to shine and Alexius weeps.

Perhaps Alexius was unaware of the dangers inherent in the greater villages. Perhaps he had been too carried away by his ambitions and visions of a greater and brighter village. Or perhaps he did know, and wanted to perform a miracle. Nevertheless, he could not have known what exactly was about to happen that night.

That night, disaster struck.