What Happened Next (1)
That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.
The words left behind by Neil Armstrong, the first man to set foot on the moon. A magnificent turn of phrase, elevating a single stride into the great leap of all humanity.
The compost that Reus had succeeded in creating together with Nerga struck the world with a shock both clear and profound.
In an age when farming meant letting the land lie fallow to restore its fertility before sowing again, the idea that you no longer had to was nothing short of captivating.
For this went beyond artificially replenishing exhausted soil — crops now grew better than ever, bearing richer, fuller fruit.
No one yet knew in which direction this would change the world, but everyone agreed on one thing: change was coming.
And Nerga, the man who had brought that change to market, was now living through days too busy for his own eyes and ears to keep up.
"Come on, come on! Form a line, everyone, a line! Shoving like that only makes it slower! A line, I said!"
The building of the guild that had begun distributing the compost — in exchange for a cut of Nerga's profits — was absolutely mobbed, a sea of visitors at its gates.
"That's full! Next one!"
As a laborer hauling a sack-stuffed cart bellowed the words, the carts creaked away, and three empty carts rolled in almost before the spot had a chance to sit vacant.
Tesoro, Guildmaster of the Tesoro Merchant Guild, stood on the second floor stroking his mustache as he silently watched the scene. Leaving the pandemonium behind him, he moved on.
His destination was the empty lot behind the guild building, now given over to producing the compost.
Compost sheds lined up in a row — wooden planks driven into the ground at even intervals, a long roof stretched over them, each simple structure taking the shape of an open-sided room.
Inside, some twenty piles of compost were ripening nicely. Nerga was busily inspecting the finished batches, nodding along as he went.
"Mm... yes, this will do. This one's top grade. Go ahead and take it."
"Master Nerga, you're not taking that one? It was made at the same time as far as I can tell..."
"That one's not ready yet. The fermentation's finished, but it hasn't matured enough. You'll probably be able to take it sometime next week."
Where other merchants squinted and still couldn't tell the difference no matter how long they looked, Nerga knew at a single glance. It was that simple for him.
Tesoro had met Nerga a few years back. Not because the man had been impressive, but because he'd been so pitiful that he'd stuck in memory.
He'd come seeking investment, yet stammered through his pitch, hunched his shoulders, groveled shamelessly — a man impossible to forget even if you tried.
So that's the caliber of man he was?
Now he overflowed with such commanding presence that Tesoro almost wondered if it were a different person sharing only the name. The way he directed everything from start to finish — he was more than material for a truly great merchant.
Maybe my eye for people hasn't improved after all, Tesoro thought, quietly chiding himself — and Nerga, spotting him, wiped his hands and came over to offer a courteous bow.
"Guildmaster, you've come to see us."
"Mm, thought I'd stop by and see how things were going. Seems my worry was for nothing."
"If anything happens, I'll report to you at once. Please don't trouble yourself."
Tesoro's eyes gleamed as he looked Nerga over once more. Standing before a guildmaster of his stature, the man showed not a trace of being cowed — his bearing was genuinely admirable.
"If it's too impertinent a question, you needn't answer. But what was it that changed you so completely?"
"Rather than what... I think who would be the more fitting word."
At Tesoro's question, Nerga lifted his gaze slightly upward, a wistful light in his eyes — the look of a man savoring a precious memory.
"The old me was a pathetic creature. I thought so myself, so I never had any faith in myself. I'm going to fail anyway, it'll all fall apart anyway... I always left myself an escape hatch in my own heart. That way, when I didn't succeed, I could run away telling myself, 'See? I knew it. What did I tell you.'"
The painful self-examination went on. His voice grew quieter, as if the words were hard to force out, and his hand clenched into a fist.
"But he believed in me, right to the very end. No matter how many times I failed, and failed again, he walked alongside me, holding up the dream I carried, the hope I carried, with all his strength so it wouldn't crumble."
Yet soon the strength returned to his voice. Unclenching his fist, he lifted it and gazed down at his open palm.
"The time I spent with him gave me an insight more precious than pure gold. That no matter how dark and unforgiving this world may be, a single person who believes in you can change everything. And I want to become someone like that myself — I intend to live the rest of my life trying."
"A truly remarkable man, it seems."
"There's no question of it. Without his help, I might not be standing here — I might not exist in this world at all."
The reverence in his words was that of a man speaking of the one who'd saved his very life. Tesoro could feel for himself just how vast a place 'that man' held within him.
"In fact, it's thanks to him that we're opening up the compost production process to the public at all."
"Now that's something I haven't heard before."
"Without his help, I never even would have attempted the countless trials and errors it took to succeed — so naturally, I assumed he would demand rights over the compost itself. But..."
"He demanded nothing at all, I take it."
"Not a thing. Thanks to that, I've been able to reach out to the guilds and open the production method like this. So one day, I intend to release the entire compost formula to the world."
"A shame. Had you kept it fully exclusive, you could easily have built not just a shop but a merchant guild bearing your own name."
"I did consider it for a moment. But an answer he gave me settled my heart for good."
"And what answer was that?"
"He said, 'Shall we put a price on sunlight, too?'"
Pfft — at such a brilliantly clear answer, Tesoro burst out laughing. In the year and change since, compost had firmly established itself as the flagship product of guilds and merchants everywhere, with every right to the title.
To have created such a product and never once claimed ownership of it. Judging by the metaphor of sunlight, the man simply had no great ambition for profit at all.
"But those of us who owe him a debt can't in good conscience simply let go of his hand — so I send him a share of the profits we bring in each time. And also..."
Nerga hoisted up one of the empty compost sacks stacked at the back. Stitched onto it, unmistakably clear, was the image of a crow taking flight beneath the product name.
Reus Compost.
"Out of a wish that all the continent come to know of him, I slipped his name in like this. He told me not to — but I felt I simply had to express my respect somehow."
"At that point it's practically a religion, wouldn't you say?"
"Absolutely! When I marry and have children someday, if it's a son, I intend to name him after him."
At Nerga's answer, given without a shred of hesitation, Tesoro's interest continued to grow. Just what manner of man could transform someone this completely?
A knight can strap on armor and take up a sword to protect himself, but a merchant has no such luxury. In this brutal world, with no guarantee that business will ever thrive, there is only one way to survive: band together.
From that necessity, guilds formed naturally, and the guilds forged alliances among themselves. They established branch guilds across the land, and thanks to that, the merchant finally became a distinct and recognized profession.
At its core, though, a guild puts its own interests first and foremost. Helping one another happens only so long as it is mutually profitable — otherwise, any member could turn his back at any moment.
Tesoro, who had spent the better part of a decade and more crawling through that muck, knew exactly what mattered most. Nor was he alone — any merchant with a few years under his belt knew it too.
Business, investment — in the end, it all comes down to people. Capable talent and lasting connections: that, in the truest sense, is what paves the royal road to success.
"If you had to sum up this Lord Reus of yours in a single word, what would it be?"
"A single word? Hmm... he's hardly a man who can be reduced to just one."
Nerga, who could have spoken about Reus from morning until nightfall, fell briefly into thought.
One word. Just one. After agonizing over it for a long while, he suddenly went ah! and clapped his hands together.
"A mage."
"A mage?"
"Yes. Whenever I'm with him, I get this strange conviction that whatever we do, everything will work out — like I've fallen under a mage's spell, if that makes sense."
Nerga had, quite without meaning to, pierced straight to the heart of the matter. Had Reus himself overheard, his heart would surely have lurched.
Hearing those words, Tesoro stored the name 'Lord of Crow's Head Valley, Reus' away in the vault of his mind.
But there was one thing anyone could be certain of, even at this point.
That it would not be long before the name Reus spread its wings across the whole of the continent.