cabbagepreacher
patreon
Chapter CV – You shall see how feudalism was made a democracy.
🕑 Added 2024-09-22 13:27:21 +0000 UTC
76th of Summer 5859
Polling Station (Adventurer’s Guild of Casamonu), Casamonu
“The big city… not quite as big as I imagined.” Shakira murmured to herself, taking in the scenery of Casamonu’s central square. It was impressive, she had to admit at least that, but it was more of the same as Azdavay. Craftsmen who had set up their stalls there, other merchants here, some acrobats soliciting money yonder… She had expected everything to be bigger, maybe some buildings ten stories tall, impressively humongous mansions fit for giants, maybe a giant beanstalk that’d take her to the sky, or anything more or less as impressive. Turns out, the big city is just a city over a wider area, not a bigger city in the literal sense of the word.
“This is nothing compared to the Imperial capital, believe me. Everything is way bigger in Hauptstadt.” Shakira turned around to again see Azra Inkwell, who seemed to have the special ability to pop behind Shakira whenever she talked to herself.
“By the Divine above… it’s you again. Did you end up coming back already?” Shakira took a few steps back to take a full look at her surprise companion. Azra had gotten herself a glow-up, in the form of a few metal hairpins and a dazzling blue dress. “I see that you’ve had time for vanity.”
Azra let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, is it wrong for a young lady like myself to treat herself? You should get yourself something too, Shaki.”
I’m ‘Shaki’ now? “I work as an adventurer. Fancy garbs aren’t tools of my trade.” Shakira knocked on the flat surface of her comically large sword which lay hanging on her back. “This baby costs as much as your entire wardrobe.”
“Of course, Miss Shakira. The world both needs fair maidens,” she first pointed to herself “and the world also needs heroes with fair swords.” Then Azra knocked on Shakira’s oversized sword with fascination. “How do you even carry that thing?”
“I trained really hard.” answered Shakira.
“…can you achieve that by training really hard?” Azra rolled up her sleeves and flexed her muscles. There turned out to be little to nothing to flex.
“Eh, maybe?” Shakira shrugged. “I trained really hard. I really, really did.”
Azra took another good look at the comically, ridiculously large sword before giving up and shrugging. “I guess – look!” She pointed at a crowd slowly gathering at the square. “I think they’re here for the election.”
“The ‘elekshun’? The thing that the fancy people do to elect a mayor?” Shakira watched as people began gathering in front of the town crier. Next to him was three people who dressed respectfully.
“It’s not only for the fancy people anymore. The Hero told me so: back in his world, every person could vote. So, you can join in as well. Follow me!”
Shakira sighed at the enthusiasm of her younger counterpart, but she also couldn’t beat her curiosity as to what an ‘election’ would entail. She followed Azra to the nexus of where the crowd gathered. They were now close enough to hear the town crier speak.
“…and that’s how the representatives will gather in the Council to vote on new laws. As for the election itself, it’ll be quite simple. You’ll gather around who you want elected, and we’ll go off of a headcount. Now, the mayoral candidates will be giving their speeches.”
The first candidate stepped forward. From his garb, white robes flowing down to his ankles, it was clear that he was a member of the clergy. He was familiar to Shakira and Azra, as it was Vaiz from the League. “Good morning, my fellows in the Divine. I can see that you have many questions and anxieties, but worry not. The Hero is here, and our Republic shall stand with him. Elect me, and I promise to…” Vaiz hadn’t had much time to prepare a speech for election. He was a priest, not a politician. "…uh, do a good job!” His speech got a few in the crowd to cheer, but the few cheers only made the following silence more awkward.
The second candidate stepped forward. “Uhm… I thought this was where we were going to arrive to cast our vote. Apologies, I’m not a candidate.” He awkwardly ran to the crowd standing in front of the town crier.
The third candidate, or the second candidate depending on the method used to count, stepped forward. He was a fancifully dressed man with a mustache as black as ink. “People of Casamonu! Do you not see the madness that goes on here? I am Yaz Inkwell, a faithful servant of the Empire. A gang of savages has taken over your home, and all you can do is gawk in awe? They seized my press yesterday, soon they’ll seize all of us and all our children will be naught but brownish mutts! Wake up, and let not go of your emperor! Do you really think that a bunch of fugitive slaves have your best interests in mind? Would they rule you as good as the emperor, whose lineage goes back several millennia, could?” There was quite a whole lot more fervor in answer to the speech of Sir Inkwell. He received shouts of support and hands clapping in unison.
“Oh dear, I don’t think the Republic guy will be staying here for long.” said Shakira. Azra was quiet, quite appalled by her father’s performance. “Why don’t they just execute him like the others, I wonder?” Suddenly, Shakira was pushed from behind. “Watch your step!” There was a whole crowd of people behind her. Judging from their dirty clothes and simple hats, these were peasants from rural Casamonu. She hadn’t noticed them come in just now.
“Uhm…” The town crier watched the sudden influx of peasants. “Ah… Let’s get on with the voting then. Mr. Vaiz, please stand on this side. Mr. Inkwell, on the other side. Whoever is on the left half of the square shall count as a vote towards Vaiz, and the right side shall be a vote for Inkwell.”
“I’m not Mister Inkwell. Sir Inkwell, that is who I am.”
“But sir- uhm, mister, all noble titles have been a-ah… abolished.” The town crier bowed to the nobleman in apology anyways. "Ahem! Voting starts now!”
The crowd started moving like a rushing river. Some on the right moved to the left, some on the left went right, and those in the middle had to find their way across this two-front assault. In the end, there were way too many people to come to come to a quick consensus. The two crowds seemed to be sized similarly. The poor town crier had his work cut out for him. “Everyone, please line up. I’ll have to count each one of you individually.”
Now came the part where the town crier would have to individually count everyone in the crowd.
“This is going to take a while.” commented Shakira, who had stayed out of the vote by sitting at some corner. “Might as well take a nap…”
