Chapter 9

    Small Villages Don’t Have Big Markets

    Redwood was a small village under the jurisdiction of the large city of Russel. It had only 108 residents, 30 of whom were children—both toddlers and teenagers. If counting only adults, it didn’t even qualify as an official village under the laws of the Seris Kingdom.

    However, the northern region was a fertile land, rich in resources, particularly the abundant pine forests that provided excellent firewood. The booming timber trade led the kingdom to relax its rules, and the village was officially established around eight years ago.

    The firewood trade with the kingdom should have brought prosperity and development to the local community. In reality, it didn’t. Greedy merchants who positioned themselves as dominant investors exploited the woodcutters and forced the price of timber down. Gradually, the surrounding villages abandoned the business, unable to withstand the power of money. Some villagers even had to relocate to more prosperous and convenient towns.

    Today, only three villages stubbornly clung to their livelihoods, struggling in poverty and hardship.

    Little Kit looked at the scenery along the road with wide-eyed wonder. The sight of a remote rural village was something he rarely encountered in his previous life. The forests, the crisp air, and the beauty of autumn made him feel at ease. As they traveled, Anna explained the basics that Kit needed to know before entering the village. That’s because he had to learn about how trade worked, the prices of essential goods, and how to behave in the market.

    The central market of Redwood Village operated from late morning until noon. Local vendors sold their wares during that time. A simple cooked meal cost about two copper coins, while a processed soft leather sheet was priced at fifteen copper coins. A small animal pelt for use in winter went for as high as one silver coin, or one hundred copper coins.

    Kit was shocked by the prices of these essential goods that made surviving winter easier. The volatile market fluctuations likely stemmed from the scarcity of resources and the lack of effective price controls by those in power.

    "Sister, I’m curious..." Little Kit said, thinking about the unusually low price of dried straw. "Shouldn’t the price of dried straw rise before winter? Why is it so cheap?"

    "Although more than half the villagers work as woodcutters and hunters, the other half are farmers growing crops to feed their families. The grain we eat every day is grown right here in the village. They don’t export it to other cities."

    Kit thought it over. Everyone here survived through local farming and self-reliance. Dried straw was simply a byproduct that every household kept for their horses and donkeys used in farming and small-scale transportation. Even though they tried to make the most of every leftover, a massive pile of straw waste still accumulated every year.

    "One bundle of straw for a copper coin is already expensive, Kit," James informed his clueless little brother. "Right after the harvest, you can get five bundles for one copper coin."

    "What? Five times more expensive!? At this rate, won’t we suffer a huge loss?"

    "I might be able to find someone kind enough to sell it to us at three bundles per coin. Don’t worry," Sister Anne said with a playful wink at the three children.

    The walk from the church to the village took a full half-hour. The old soul within Kit couldn’t help but wonder why such an important place was situated so far from the village. Transporting goods or seeking help during emergencies would surely be challenging.

    The four of them walked along the road until they reached the wide clearing at the village entrance. Large stacks of red pine logs lined both sides of the path. Kit felt a twinge of sadness at the sight but was equally surprised when he looked at the still-thriving forest nearby.

    "Sister, with so much logging going on, won’t the forest be affected?" Kit finally asked, determined to get a clear answer.

    "Good boy, we would never destroy the sacred lands of the gods. These trees come from areas approved by the Church of the Goddess Foris."

    "The Goddess Foris?" The unfamiliar name piqued Kit’s curiosity, making him want to learn more about the new world’s history.

    (I’ll ask Sister more about it later...)

    The Redwood Village market was modestly busy in the late morning. The goods sold fell into only two categories—food and clothing. Any agricultural leftovers the church needed would have to be sourced through personal contacts. As they walked, Kit made mental notes of everything he saw.

    The village streets were simply packed dirt, flattened by years of use. The market stalls were scattered and disorganized, with vendors setting up makeshift displays on wooden platforms in front of their homes. There was no clear categorization of goods, making it hard to call this a proper market.

    Kit’s initial excitement faded quickly, like a passing breeze.

    After crossing a bridge over a clear stream, Sister Anne changed direction toward their destination. The eastern side of the village had homes that were noticeably different. Instead of stone like in the main settlement, the farmers’ homes were built with wooden pillars and walls, with thick straw-thatched roofs like elsewhere. Kit saw many kind villagers who had previously donated goods to the church and cheerfully greeted them with his usual friendly manner.

    Every farming household had massive bundles of dried straw stacked tightly in their front yards or barns, leaving almost no space to store any more. The streets were lined with golden walls of straw, giving the neighborhood a warm and welcoming atmosphere more than elsewhere.

    Soon, the group stopped in front of a large wooden house. After knocking on the door, the homeowner opened it with a warm smile.

    "Oh, Sister Anne. You brought so many children with you. Come inside—the wind is quite cold," said the woman, who was none other than the generous donor of a large bag of meat and coins for the church. Unfortunately, all her donated goods had been confiscated this year, unlike in previous years.

    "Thank you, Mary. May the blessings of Lord White Wings be upon you."

    "May the blessings of Lady Foris be upon you as well," Aunt Mary replied, smiling at the children as she offered them fragrant hot tea. The warm wooden cups were perfect for thawing their cold hands.

    "I came to ask if we could buy some dried straw from the farmers here. We’ve decided to insulate the church walls to keep the children warmer this winter…"

    "Hmm... buy dried straw? I thought you’d be spending that money on herbs," Aunt Mary said in surprise, then remembered how the situation in the market had become. "Ah... herbs are probably three silver coins a bundle by now. Just thinking about it makes me angry at that scoundrel."

    Aunt Mary’s Lockwood family were among the wealthiest in the village. Unfortunately, she didn’t have enough influence to openly oppose Mr. Gray. Otherwise, life for everyone in the village would be much better.

    "The gods will judge him justly in the end. Don’t stress yourself too much, Mary. Time is short before the first snow arrives. Could you help us arrange this?"

    "Of course… Leave it to me. Tomorrow, I’ll call a meeting with the farmers. I’m sure they’ll be more than willing to help you and the children."

    "As for the cost..." Sister Anne spoke quietly, clearly embarrassed that the church’s current budget amounted to only three silver coins and a handful of copper coins.

    "Don’t worry. Even though one bundle of straw costs a copper coin now, I’ll talk to everyone. Leaving that straw on the streets serves no purpose—it’ll just rot into useless waste by spring."

    The two elderly women continued their conversation as friends for nearly the entire morning. Meanwhile, Anna and James sat quietly, struggling to stay awake through the tedious adult discussion. In contrast, little Kit cheerfully sipped his hot tea, his curious eyes wandering around the house until they settled on a small bookshelf mounted on the nearby wall.

    The bookshelf held nearly ten old, worn-out books. Kit squinted, trying to read the faded titles on the spines. Most of them were too deteriorated for him to make out, except for one, whose title, though faded, remained relatively clear.

    "The Speech of Lanbruh? Landbruh …Landbruh Forisia? That’s a strange name…"

    Kit’s quiet words instantly silenced the lively conversation. Both Anna and James stared at him with wide eyes. The room fell into an eerie stillness, breaking Kit’s concentration. The little boy looked up and asked innocently.

    He even had to use his highly trained acting skills when he encountered an unusual situation.

    "Did something happen, Sister? Aunt Mary?" His mind quickly went on high alert. Had he accidentally said something forbidden? Was the name he just mentioned taboo or something that should never be spoken aloud? He wasn’t ready to be thrown in jail just yet.

    "What… what did you just say?" Aunt Mary asked in a trembling voice, causing Kit’s nervousness to spike.

    ‘Oh no, oh no, oh no.’ The boy thought frantically.

    "Did I say something wrong, Sister?" Kit clung to Sister Anne’s arm and tried to hide behind her large black cloak, looking as pitiful as possible.

    "You… Mary. You’re scaring the child. Please, calm down." The church’s elder tried to soothe her friend before turning back to Kit. "Kit… where did you hear those words or names?"

    "I… I read them on that book spine…" Kit pointed his small finger to the wooden shelf nearby. The golden letters, as bright as a field of wheat, made it easy for the elder women to spot the book immediately. Kit, however, shrank further behind Sister Anne, burying himself deeper into her cloak.

    "I… I didn’t do anything wrong, right?" In truth, Kit wanted to ask if he was about to be burned at the stake for being a witch—or worse, accused of being a demon. He racked his brain, wondering why reading that book title had become such a big deal.

    "David can read? Did Sister teach him to read?" Aunt Mary asked, suddenly excited.

    "Ah… ha ha ha. This little one is a fast learner," Sister Anne replied with a forced laugh, gently patting Kit’s head.

    She didn’t want to deny it outright, fearing it would escalate the situation further.

    On their return to the church, Sister Anne knew she would have to question her little miracle boy thoroughly.