It's been six days since Ete Okon received his key from the council. That day he ran through the WhatsApp townhall shouting to anyone who cared to listen. The key was a long brass plate with unrecognizable cryptic writings engraved on the body. From the letter that came with it, he had been told never to give it to anyone and never to lose it. Without it he cannot enter his hut neither could he be able to trade in the local market. With that Okon had simply drilled a hold through it, passed a rope through the hole and tie the rope with the key round his waist.
The main kingdom is designed in such a way you can enter the city through many gates. There's the main entrance used by many, which is the one Okon used today. There's also a small entrance gate on the northeastern side that led from the valley of Esteemappite, and then Okon had been told about the southern gate through the Quora Canal which was always Busy at this time of the year. At Okon's hut was a nicely decorated but empty basket placed under the large stone tablets which is on the wall of his hut. Okon quickly bought some paints and brush from the Postimage art shop at the local market and designed a portrait of his face at the entrance door to his hut.
Everyone moved about with a quill and ink in one hand and clutched a handful of coins in the other hand. They wore body armors with their name written across the back. Ete Okon was given a 25 rep plates of brass armor upon entering the kingdom. He quickly picked up his own ink bottle and put the few shillings the city gave him into his goat skinned bag, then began the long walk around the kingdom. Everything was a wonder to him especially the diversity of the members of the community.
He passed by a wine house and heard men laughing inside. He stopped and listened as a drunk man bragged about how how he tried to hodl onto his coins when a certain merchant from the east had tried to take it from him. He swayed and staggered as he spoke, ordering the beer man to bring more beer for his friends and threw some coins to the friends who had laughed at his jokes. Okon stepped out to look at the name of the wine house. He tried to pronounced the writing on a worn out, rusty metallic plate but could not. He asked a young man passing by and he replied “Demania house of comedy”. Okon quickly scribbled the name on his scroll and promised himself to come there someday when he needs to have some good laugh.
As he stepped out the young man picked his raffia bag and followed him.
‘Where are you going?’ - Okon didn't understand why the boy followed him around.
‘Follow you? Why shouldnt I? You are my friend, I'll follow you and you will follow me. We will walk together.’ - The boy replied.
'Why should I follow you and why should you follow me. Am not your friend and a barely know you'
‘Yes, so I will see all you write and you will see whenever I write.’
Okon did not understand but with the complexity of the whole kingdom he had needed a friend. So he shrugged his shoulder, checked his key on his waist and continued on his walk. Through the busy lanes, he was looking for the hut of his friend Joshua. He looked again, for the seventh time, at the address he had scribbled on a tablet and hoped he was on the right lane.
People were moving up and down but no one seemed to even be aware of his presence. He seemed invisible to them except for the young boy who followed him. Now there seemed to be five of them following him. As he turned to look at them, he stopped dead in his path - so sudden that the six boys following him almost bumped into him.
“What, what is that?” Okon pointed to a basket next to a hut. The basket overflowed with coins. People were still pouring in - some didn't even stop to read or talk to the old man who sat on a wooden chair next to a tablets which he had just finished writing on.
‘It is a coin basket, why? Haven't you seen one before?’ one of his followers answered him.
“But it's overflowing” Okon turned to the other basket which were empty and their owners looked as empty as their baskets. ‘Why can't he take it inside to empty them inside the hut’
“You must be new here” an old man beside him laughed. “I can see it on your face. I only hope you will survive here.” the old man continued ‘the council made a law long time ago, that no man shall touch his coin basket except on the seventh market day’
‘But why? Is it not my money to do as I pleased?’ Okon became more confused.
As the old man opened his mouth to answer, a maddening crowd almost knocked them off the road. The old man and the young men who followed Okon all grabbed their bags and a small basket and ran after the crowd.
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Okon quickly joined them and pushed himself to the front of the queue. At their lead, was an elderly man driven in a beautiful cartwheel by two horses. He wore an Egyptian sown attire which could cost Ete Okon nine years of hardwork to buy even half of it.
He had the appearance of a very wealthy man even his face was like that of a prince. In his hand was a large sack filled with so much coins Okon heart skipped when he first saw it. As he moved about thousands upon thousands pushed one another holding their scrolls and baskets in their hands, and hoping to be seen by the great man. From the hut he just left, an old man stood with his family crying. Tears rolled down their eyes as they hugged each other and waved at the mysterious man.
While all this happened, Okon stood motionless with his mouth opened, leaning on his walking stick and observing while the mysterious man performed his kingly functions with dignity. Okon turned to the men who followed him only to see them running with the crowd after the mystery man. Okon drew closer to the family who's hut the man just left.
“Who, who was that man? Why are you crying” Okon was not a natural stammerer but on occasions like this he rarely find his words in time.
‘Don't you know him, Oh!! long live great lord Damarth’ The man son responded.
“Sorry, am new in the kingdom, I just got my keys a few days ago. Tell me who is he and why are people fighting to meet him”
“I see!!” the head of the family turned to look at Okon. He dragged a mat and asked Okon to join him as he sat down with his family and began to count the coins in their basket. ‘The great lord Damarth is one of the about 52 lords in this kingdom. He is a great merchant from the west who had discovered this land during an early expedition a year ago’
‘Who are the lords, what do they do?’ Okon enquired,
“They are merchant of great wealth but many of them do not care about the common man like us. But on occasion like this, their touch do change the life history and future of many. Look at my basket” Okon hurriedly peeped inside ‘He just filled my basket, for six days this basket had been out here but not even a single coin was put in it, but today my story have changed forever. Long live lord Damarth’
‘Long live our great kingdom’ his family responded in unison.
“How do I find such a generous man” Okon heart pumped, his eyes greened with both envy and greed.
‘This kingdom is like a mighty sea, the lords whale around with great wealth. Some others are not so wealthy, like that man clutching a handful of coins in his hands, we called him a dolphin, a chief. Then there are people like me, a commoner, who is like a minnow is the sea’ The man offered Okon some Kola.
‘So, I am a commoner ’ Okon smiled.
“Hahahahaha, chew on your Kola, a commoner, you say? You are a peasant, not even a minnow, here they people still see you as a red fish. You will have to work hard enough to accumulate enough even be called a commoner.”
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That evening as Okon stood in fronts of his huts, he looked at his armor with the 25rep count of brass which they say is for his protection. They had told him that in times of battle, his armor would protect him from the slaughtering sword of the sons of Belial.
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He wondered what would ever take him to war with anybody but even then he wished to have a 70 rep count of pure iron armour as that Tarazkp man who he met on his way back. Slowly he dipped his quill in the ink bucket and began to scribbled his first writings on his scroll.
He looked at the finished work hanging on the walk and smiled at his creativity with the quill. With overflowing joy in his heart, he walked into his hut, closed the door and began to daydream of all the coins that will began pouring into his basket. He picked up a stone tablet and began to ink the words of an old poem:
*Little by little, said a thoughtful boy'
Moment by moment, I will employ *
to be continued
If you missed any episodes of this series, click here to read episode 1: The Very Very Beginning and episode 2: The Long Wait
