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Chapter 12: The Wealth of the Sap and the Muddy Roads

At dawn the following day, the apothecary Cindy crossed the gates of Vance Stronghold, bringing with her an urgency that proved to me just how much I had underestimated the economic impact of our refining. She did not come empty-handed; she brought more golden sugar cubes on a small clay platter. Without my knowledge, the herbalist had spent the night meticulously replicating the process we had developed in the back laboratory. Knowing the gravity of the discovery, my parents promptly invited her to share breakfast and begin an emergency council at the oak table.

Cindy began to report the events with overflowing enthusiasm, gesturing toward my father and mother with shining eyes.

— Lord Arl, Lady Sylvia... you have no idea of the magnitude of what your young son conceived yesterday in my workshop — she announced, her voice slightly trembling. — Something truly revolutionary for the province's finances. He managed to purify and solidify the sap of those northern roots into a high-quality sugar. I performed boiling tests right after, and the result is perfect. I do not understand the mystical proportions, but the boy even managed to stipulate the boiling and filtering times with precision. And what impresses me most: he drew up a complete plan for reusing the plant leftovers, something that rarely occurs in the manufactures of apothecaries and herbal distillers. He conceived a complete production cycle.

I rested my chin on my small hand, feeling a pang of moral discomfort. I have absolutely no right to take pride in this process, I scolded myself mentally. I invented absolutely none of this; it took thousands of minds and centuries of development on another planet to simplify this technique. If I tried to explain the historical truth to them, I would sound like a complete lunatic.

I needed to translate my knowledge into the rustic language of that feudal society without turning a breakfast into an academic lecture on engineering. I recorded a severe mental note: I would have to simplify my future explanations as much as possible or, better yet, delegate this bureaucracy to my furry shadow. I glanced discreetly at Katriny, who remained stationed in the corner of the room, and gave a silent laugh. I was already counting on her help for the report.

Lady Sylvia turned her surprised eyes in my direction, regulating every single one of my movements with strict and solemn attention.

— My dear... — she whispered, leaning over the table. — Could you explain to us, in your own words, how this miracle works?

I looked at my mother, feeling somewhat discomfited by the pressure. Since Cindy had not answered in detail, it was up to me to formulate the riddle. I cleared my throat, forcing my vocal cords to search for the simplest and most rustic terms possible:

— The... the sweet roots — I began, slowly. — They keep a lot of sweetness in the pulp, but the juice does not come out easily. It must be cooked in the large cauldron with the sprouted grains and blood to clean the dark foam. In the end, the thick syrup dries and turns into these golden cubes that can be sold for a good price. If Father talks to Lord Varian Aurelius, the beast-men can send us tons of roots that are currently rotting in the valleys. We can bake sweet breads, fine cakes, and delicacies for the court. In addition to the gold from the sale, we will provide work for many servants in the province. And as for what is left at the bottom of the copper... if we mix it in barrels with clear water, the tavern keepers can ferment a strong and cheap drink for the patrols. The remaining pulp will feed the horses in the stables and strengthen the wheat in the fields so that it grows tall and resistant. Everything comes from the sap of those roots.

The Trump Card of the Vance Crown

The silence that settled over the banquet hall was sepulchral. The look of astonishment on my parents' faces was clear. My father, Lord Arl, wore an expression of sheer nonconformity and military shock, while my mother pressed her hands against her chest, her eyes tearing up with genuine happiness, staring at me as if I were the most venerable sage on the entire continent.

I was confused by that exaggerated reaction. Heavens... this is the most basic agricultural economics that exists, I wondered, perplexed. Why are they reacting as if I had discovered gunpowder? Refined sugar must already exist in this kingdom, right?

Lady Sylvia approached, kneeling beside my chair with her voice choked with emotion:

— My son... pure sugar is one of the rarest and most expensive delicacies in all the known world. The traditional extraction process of the southern provinces is terribly complex and closely guarded by the guilds. You will hardly find a gram of this product on this rustic frontier; it is sold for its weight in gold only in the courts of the great capitals. By delivering this recipe and this production cycle to your father, you have not only granted wealth to our stronghold, but you have given House Vance an overwhelming political trump card before the Crown. The King will inevitably name your father a Count or a Marquess if we control this commercial monopoly. Recipes like this are state secrets, guarded under the edge of the sword!

I glanced at Katriny in the corner of the room. The panda-monk wore a mischievous and playful expression, raising her eyes to the wooden ceiling while stifling a giggle with her furry paws. You devil... you knew the commercial value of this and let me do the experiment entirely blindly without warning me! I grumbled internally, glaring at my watchman.

My father, noticing my childish despair in the face of that flood of political responsibilities, abandoned his shock and let out a rustic, booming laugh that echoed through the ceiling beams.

— Well... who would have thought! — Arl slammed his heavy hand on the table, his eyes shining with military pride. — An heir of only six winters handing over a commercial empire on a silver platter to our lineage! I am immensely proud of your astuteness, my son. Today you will have your free day to rest, but be prepared: late this afternoon, I will ask many questions about the details of that reflux cauldron.

I seized the opening and pointed my finger firmly in the direction of the heteromorphic monk.

— All right, Father — I replied, sharpening my diction. — But I will need Katriny in the council. She will help me draw the rustic terms on the table. She... she understands the process.

Katriny froze instantly. Her furry ears drooped, and she stared at me with eyes wide with sheer astonishment.

— Young Master Kaelen... you are being terribly mean — she murmured, her gentle voice mixed with an wronged protest. — This is a major setup!

I gave an internal laugh of pure geek revenge. You set me up with the silence of the sugar, now you're going to be stuck with me in the report bureaucracy until the end.

My parents and the apothecary Cindy amused themselves with our childish interaction. Cindy wiped her lips with a handkerchief and resumed speaking to validate the data:

— My Lord, what your son stipulated about the waste is proven. I inspected the dark dregs left at the bottom of the bronze and can confirm that the purity of the molasses possesses all the properties necessary to distill a vigorous alcoholic beverage. We will begin fermentation tests immediately in the cellars. As for the fertilizer for the peasants' wheat, I need a week of observation in the vegetable gardens to confirm its agricultural efficacy, but the variables are promising.

— Excellent! — Arl stood up quickly from his chair, adjusting his leather belt and sword with renewed determination. — I need to send an urgent messenger to House Aurelius to organize the logistics of the root wagons, and establish a severe counterintelligence protocol in the stronghold. We cannot allow the slightest leak of information to the spies of Baron Kenneth of Ghalia.

The lord withdrew with long strides toward the war quarters. My mother stood up shortly after, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

— You are free for today, Kaelen. I will speak with Instructor Garrick to postpone your exercises with the twin swords. But remember: tomorrow we will have a long and exhausting day of physical training. Enjoy your day off.

I felt that same metaphorical sword of dread pierce my child's chest. How can a mother use such gentle words to promise military physical torture the next day? I lamented, swallowing hard.

— All... right... — I replied, timidly.

The Route to Teguma and the Martyrdom of Nature

Three days had passed since the sugar council, and the internal movement in the stronghold triggered a logistical confusion much greater than I had anticipated in my initial plans. Katriny and I spent hours hunched over rustic parchments to draw up the design of the refining plant and the distillation guidelines. My father acted with the speed of a general: he recruited the town's master tavern keeper and a trusted dwarf artisan to build a manufacturing guild within the internal limits of the walls, in addition to digging a dark cellar to safeguard the barrels of fermented molasses.

To my absolute astonishment as a scientist, local taverns used to store their barrels of beer and mead exposed to the sun and rain in the muddy courtyard, without the slightest criteria for thermal control, hygiene, or sealing against biological contamination. Once again, the idyllic and sanitized image of a magical medieval world that I nurtured through Téia's media was pitilessly shattered by the cruelty of historical reality. Those people needed basic production engineering concepts.

However, in the midst of all this commercial buzz, we were graced with a diplomatic invitation of high relevance. The entire Vance family was summoned to travel to the large port city of Teguma, located on the coast east of our province. From the tone of the letters, the tiger-men emissaries of House Aurelius would meet us at the port docks to seal the commercial contract and present some logistical updates coming from the sea.

I became extremely hopeful about the destination of the trip. A large merchant port city drastically increased my statistical probabilities of finding large-scale rock salt or sea salt deposits. It would be a monumental find for the next project on my list.

The next morning, we were informed that the convoy would depart after noon. The journey to Teguma would require four full days of travel by carriage through the frontier roads. I was radiant as I climbed the steps of the leather and wood vehicle, naively believing that I would enjoy a beautiful scenic ride while crossing the eastern forests.

I would very much like to end this chapter on a poetic note about the journey, but the reality is that the trip turned into an authentic hell on earth.

The dirt roads were, in fact, immense ditches of thick mud, full of deep ruts and boulder holes that made the carriage shake violently with every meter advanced. The dry branches of the forest trees banged against the wooden structure, producing a deafening noise. Even while subtly using small invisible currents of my Telekinesis to try to cushion the impact of the wheel axles, the biological limitations of my six-year-old body took their toll: I spent most of the journey suffering from severe nausea caused by motion sickness, unable to contemplate any scenery.

My backside had been virtually turned to pulp due to the continuous friction against the rustic seat; after the second day of jolts, I could no longer feel my buttocks.

Worse than the muscular discomfort, the management of basic physiological needs during the feudal journey was an overwhelming martyrdom. Without any sanitary infrastructure or hygienic inns along the forest path, the only option was to squat among the bushes of rough leaves and wash my buttocks in the cold, muddy waters of the border river. If that unhygienic rawness represented what the bards called "living in perfect communion and harmony with the purity of nature," I repudiated the concept with all my scientific strength. My soul from Téia desperately begged for the comforts of the technological era.

I beg the heavens for a single roll of purified toilet paper and the engineering of a porcelain flush toilet! I cried out in my thoughts, on my knees in the mud as the carriage rocked toward the cold fronts of the east coast.