Before I died, I had been an ordinary student who spent most of the day looking at the clock, waiting for the bell to ring. I had no clear idea regarding what I wanted to be. Just a vague idea that I might want to become a teacher of some sort. No particular reason. I just thought being a teacher was easy. Tell the class to read some pages, tell the students to answer some questions in the book, and voila, the day’s over. I thought PE teachers had it especially good. Let the boys kick some balls, and the girls sit around and gossip in the shade, and the job’s done. Free paycheck. Spring break, summer break, and winter break. I thought I wanted to do that. But, alas, the bitch-ass goddesses engineered my death and then reincarnated me in this weird world. And now I had this little girl whose education was entrusted unto me.

The Baron and the Baroness finally realized, and immediately accepted, that Anna needed some schooling. By the time Anna became nine, their sign-language had greatly improved. They were now able to make simple conversations with Anna without needing my translation. Direct communication with their daughter revealed, to their horror, the sheer amount of dumb shits Anna spewed out. For example, Anna thought she eventually would have to fight her dad for the Barony’s succession. She told her horrified mom and dad, ‘Please do not worry. I will go easy on papa.’ She also frequently mixed up la droite and la gauche, and could not do simple addition and subtraction. She was literate, thanks to my effort. However, Anna’s spelling was so enigmatic that one needed a committee of highly educated men and women to decipher the devil-spawned puzzle. Just getting vowels wrong would have been excusable as it was quite common for kids of her age. Not that there were many literate kids around. But Anna, somehow, managed to get both the consonants and the vowels wrong in every word she wrote. This rendered the very purpose of communicating in written words unachievable. Mind you; she was a mute. To talk to people other than me, Anna NEEDED an alternative form of communication other than her homemade sign-language.

Shit rolled downhill, and the job came to me. Well, OK, not really. I mean the shit-rolling part. I was tasked to educate Anna because one, I was regarded as exceptionally gifted, which in reality wasn’t true at all but that nevertheless was what everyone thought of me. Two, for years, in all practical sense, I had been Anna’s de facto nanny, and thus she spent most of her time with me. And three, since it was I who had made our sign-language, so naturally, I would understand whatever questions she asked.

And it wasn’t easy. Teaching a child was completely different from learning as a child. I realized that the mechanism of education was a dedicated field of its own, with proper methodologies and processes. Appropriate milestones and checkpoints had to be set and scheduled. The most challenging part was deciding what Anna would need to learn. And justifying why. God, it was hard. I couldn’t do it simply because I had never been qualified enough to do that. Thus I fell back to my own experience. I recalled the tutoring that I had received from my good old pal, the Priest, and tried my best to emulate it in my effort to teach Anna. Others helped, too, especially those in the Council.

I cursed the Circle of God’s Worshipers. It had been slightly over nine years, and they still hadn’t sent a new cleric for the region. A priest would have been so useful. They were expected to be literate, knowledgeable in many stuff, and, most importantly, have the capacity to accommodate worldly logic. Had there been one around, I would have simply asked him to come to the Baron’s manor and tutor my Anna.

Instead, I was stuck with this brat on my own, not only throughout the day but also every other night. Anna had made my room hers and slept in my bed when she was too tired to go back to her own room after hanging out with me for the evening. It had gotten to the point where the maids installed a closet for Anna... in my room. And that posed a problem for me. As I said, Anna had hit the age of nine. Thus, obviously, I was thirteen. With the years came puberty and hormones. Puberty came a bit late for me compared to other boys in the town, but then again, I was on the smaller side of the scale in terms of physical development. I was a bit thin, with no muscle at all. I stood about half a head beneath an average boy of my age. Unlike them, though, I knew exactly what my body was going through. I took great care in what I ate and washed as often as I could. Acne, I had had in my previous life. Not here, not again, please.

My voice was changing, and hairs started to sprout. I was no longer the cute little thing everyone adored, but it was OK. What was NOT OK was… I fucking needed some alone-time. When I was younger, ogling at busty chests and nice bottoms was a good pastime because this scrawny body had not been fully capable of reacting to those visual stimuli. Besides, my jalapeno was literally jalapeno-sized, so even when the thing was raging, it wasn’t quite noticeable to others, unless someone was particularly fond of paying attention to little boy’s sausage hidden inside the pants. But now, my boy’s body was pumping hormones. I desperately needed privacy to release some shits, but with Anna around twenty-four-seven, it was nearly impossible to be alone. It was frustrating, precisely because I was decent and did not wish clueless Anna to witness a hot, self-induced eruption. My friends in the town had it good. They told me they would go out in a quiet field and flap the thing. Sometimes they would go as a group and compete in who shoots first or farther. Or more, even. But for me, no. I had a little girl clinging onto me day and night. I so envied the free peasant boys.

###

One morning I woke up from intense pain. Screaming, I opened my eyes to see Anna, with her palm, slapping on the bulging bit of my long nightshirt. The blanket had been tossed aside, and Anna furiously whacked my morning wood with a determined face. She then grabbed the shaft and vigorously stirred, as if she was mixing some poison in a cauldron.

“Stop it! You are hurting me!”

I pushed her away, rolled to my side, balled up, and whimpered, hurt. It took minutes for the pain to go away.

“Please don’t do that ever again.”

‘But it is so weird-’

“There is nothing weird about it! Besides, this is a very delicate part, so you gotta handle it with care,” I then ran that sentence again in my head. “Actually, don’t handle it at all. Don’t you ever touch my thingy, OK?”

Anna pouted, and showed me a rude gesture, then stormed out of my room. After a long sigh, I sat up. Through the windowpane, I could see the sun was already high.

‘Damn,’ I cussed. I overslept, even to the point where Anna was up before me. I overslept because there had been an interruption in my sleep. I had a wet dream sometime during the night and had to deal with the mess, which was slow and cautious what with a child sleeping in my bed.

‘That does it,’ I thought. I needed to get the fuck away from Anna so I could have some quiet and much-needed privacy.

Fortunately, I had been formulating a new initiative for some weeks. If it got approved, I would have an excuse to be away for at least a couple of months. Within days, I made a simple summary of my idea and presented it to the Baron’s Council.

“-in the end, all craftsmen working in the same field would share the same terms and definitions,” I told the Baron and his councilmen.

His Lordship rubbed his chin, not entirely convinced.

“How would that benefit my people? Apart from the convenience, of course.”

“For one, trades and discussions would become easier,” I started to explain. “The village of Levanoit, for example, grows the honey-potato, which is known in Antocourt as the rose-potato, whereas the rest of the Barony, including us here, calls it the aubergine-potato.”

“Unless I am mistaken, the town of Taluire calls it the patate violette,” the Treasurer added.

“Exactly,” I thanked the man for strengthening my point.

“What about the rest of the Kingdom?” the Baroness asked, curious. “What do they call this… potato?”

“It is my understanding that they simply call it the sweet-potato.”

“I see…,” the Baron trailed off and fell into deep thought. We waited in silence. At last, the Baron opened his mouth again.

“I am rather embarrassed that I have not been aware of such discrepancy. I gather that such is not limited to the crops and harvests?”

“Indeed, milord. Another example would be in the field of house building,” I went on. “In the south, near the forest, they do what they call the laying, which is laying bricks. In the east, however, the laying means what we would generally call the flooring.”

I then provided some more examples. Some parts of the Barony sold rolls of textiles in feet, whereas some other villages and towns dealt in yards. My argument was simple. If everyone used the same terminologies and definitions of the words specific to their respective field of business, it would eliminate unfortunate misunderstandings when talking to a fellow from other parts of the Roseland. For example, a blacksmith at Clermans all the way up in the north would, theoretically, be able to take orders from the opposite side of the Barony.

“-that, in return, would encourage craftsmen to exchange their ideas across the Roseland more easily. It would also enable them to take jobs from other towns and villages.”

“I agree,” the Treasurer nodded with a huge smile on his face. “More goods and coins changing hands within the land would inevitably lead to more prosperous times.”

“Very well,” the Baron seemed to have made up his mind. “How do we proceed?”

This was the moment I had been waiting for. My chance to secure me some alone time.

“My Lord, with your permission, I would like to host a huge conference of respected craftsmen from all over the Roseland. A long series of gatherings, in which the experts in each field gather in one place and agree on the common terms.”

“I can already picture the bickering,” the Majordome commented. I agreed with him. True, every man, each oh so proud of one’s skill and experience, would insist on the terms and definitions that he had been using for years. It would take a long time for them to come to an agreement. Months, maybe. Perhaps years. We would need many meetings per each field of crafting. Only a few days at a time, because men would have to return to their daily businesses. That was where my personal interest came. If a proper location away from the Manor were to be selected, and my lodging secured, then I would regularly have, for months or even years, alone nights. Welp, maybe not alone. Hopefully, I manage to make a girlfriend or two, I wished. Perhaps once or twice a month, for days, I would be away from Anna. I would spend the day mediating an agreement between highly skilled men, and the night either fapping or humping, hopefully the latter. Oh, God, it was so good. I was already drooling from the prospect.

In retrospect, I must admit that it was one heck of a convoluted scheme to get away from Anna. I was that horny and so desperately in need of some privacy. Besides, I felt the initiative itself, the push to have terminologies and definitions standardized, was actually a very good idea. I was confident it would benefit everyone in the long run. With the Baron’s approval, I sent a message to all town mayors and village chiefs across the Roseland. Waiting for the letters to be delivered was yet another patience-testing experience. It was then that the idea of a fast and reliable messaging network was first conceived, which, of course, would eventually lead to the establishment of Les Postiers.

###

I picked a small farm town named Maiencour, for the place offered the best access to people from all corners of the Roseland. Geographically speaking, Maiencour wasn’t exactly at the Barony center, but a bit off to the east. Nevertheless, enough big roads either went through Maiencour or around it, and those that didn’t passed by not too far from the town. I had been there several times to take care of other matters and knew that the inns and taverns there had enough space to accommodate the conference-goers. In fact, I had always found it strange that Maiencour had not already evolved into a big commercial hub, what with the town sitting at an attractive junction of important roads. It was a mystery to me, but no matter. The series of conferences I planned to have there would bring people and coins. For days at a time. Travel and lodging were to be paid by the Baron, so the craftsmen gathered at Maiencour would have some freedom with their own coppers and silvers. Maybe this time, Maiencour’s folk would finally realize the potential to earn some extra coins from other than farming. Hopefully, they spring up new services and products that would cater to the visitors.

The mayor of Maiencour sent me a letter. He informed me that he was excited about the whole thing and that his people were getting ready to host the conferences. This was a big undertaking for a small town. The whole thing was, in essence, people of the Roseland coming together to write a glossary book specific to each field of craft. This was the first and the largest intellectual endeavor the Barony had ever attempted. The Baron was rightfully worried that the small town and its administration might easily get overwhelmed. He thus authorized me to act on His Lordship’s behalf in supporting Maiencour and the mayor in every legal and financial way possible. For that purpose, I was armed with a big fat wad of blank sheets, signed and stamped by His Lordship and the treasurer and the solicitor. Anything I wrote on those sheets were to be regarded as His Lordship’s words.

“I trust you would be sensible with these,” the Baron said when bestowing them unto me. It was an enormous power given to a young boy going through his puberty.

As a starter, I picked masonry, blacksmithing, and tailoring. They were scheduled and slotted into the first, second, and the third week of every month, in that order. The fourth week of the month would be void of schedule so Maiencour could take a breather and tend to their own things. Each settlement scattered across the Roseland would send a representative who was to arrive by the evening of the first day of the designated week. The craftsmen would then spend the next four days arguing among themselves and leave on the morning of the sixth day. They then would come back in a month and resume the discussion, repeating the cycle until the project was finally over.

Of course, I wouldn’t attend every single day of these. I had plenty other things to do. But still, I would pay a visit to Maiencour once every week or two, and check on how things were going. For me, from the Baron’s manor to Maiencour, it would be nearly a full day’s travel on a double-horse carriage. If I set off in the morning and have a couple of rest stops on the way, I would arrive at Maiencour sometime around the sunset. It was just about right. Far enough to justify an overnight stay, but at the same time, not too far for Anna to be mad about me being away from her. Two days on the road, one full day in Maiencour going over how things are progressing, and two nights of masturb-, ahem, alone time. I was so excited. I would oversee the task that was meaningful for the Barony’s future. I would get to meet many experts in their respective fields. I would get to glance at the culmination of knowledge and experience. I would also have nice meals and drinks without Anna bothering me. All this on the Baron’s dimes. I chuckled, recollecting what my mom had said in my previous life. Mom had told me that when I was a little bratty kid, dad, a salaryman, deliberately came home late and clawed on every possible excuse to spend a bit more time in the office.

“Men are like that,” I remembered mom saying, “They all need a bit of away-from-kids time.”

I so understood my dad, though I doubted dad fapped in his office. Probably just reading some news and sipping coffee in silence and all those nice and peaceful stuff.

And, of course, Anna almost ruined everything by insisting she would tag along to Maiencour. This was absolutely unacceptable. It took me a great effort to convince her that I wasn’t going on a picnic.

“It’s all adult talks about serious matters and agreeing on the meaning of a word and such!”

‘Sounds interesting.’

“Not at all! If you don’t believe me, sit through one of our Council sessions. You will see what I mean!”

So the next day, Anna sat in her father’s Court. From time to time, she had paid a visit to the Court and hung around while her father and the Council worked. But this time, she paid attention. Anna listened in on our discussions and reporting of the Barony’s state and the drafting of letters and announcements and planning of the next season and the taxes and the expenditures and the… She stood up and left within the first half an hour. Anna later came up to me and apologized.

‘Poor you. I had no idea you had to endure that every day,’ she said.

“What? No, I, in fact, enjoy working for His Lordship.”

‘No need to lie,” she then studied my face and realized I was telling the truth. Anna seemed to be disgusted.

###

It was shortly after the autumn harvest. The busy season for the farming folks had passed, and the Barony relaxed a little under the clear sky. I set out to Maiencour a week before the first-ever conference was to kick off. I wanted to inspect the town’s preparedness. As had been expected, I arrived around the sunset, but the mayor and his subordinates were out on the dirt road, waiting for me despite the late hour.

“My, you’ve grown somewhat!” was the first thing the mayor said when he welcomed me to Maiencour. I knew he was just being nice, for I hadn’t grown that noticeably since my last visit.

I had worked as a member of the Baron’s Council since I was three, and over the years, I had become quite well-known across the Barony as the ‘child who keeps the numbers in check.’ Or the ‘little nosy boy who points out the things you don’t want others to notice.’ I was also aware of the hushed rumor that speculated I might be the Baron’s bâtard. Mom wasn’t quite happy with that one. Another rumor among the folks made me Anna’s betrothed. I cringed and shivered upon hearing that one. I tried to debunk that nonsense as best as I could, not only because it was a horrible idea, but also because that particular rumor always got in the way of my already-pathetic attempts at securing a maiden’s interest.

Me being ‘of the Tavern’ always made tavern owners and innkeepers nervous. Wherever I went, I kept telling them that I wasn’t there to judge. Nevertheless, I usually got the best rooms and the finest meals. That was also the case in Maiencour. When I got off the carriage, a town official led me to the best room on the second floor of the town’s best inn. I noticed they had also installed a magnificent writing desk in the room so that I could get some paperwork done if I ever felt like doing so. Some dried rose petals had been strewn across the desk to… I don’t know. To appease me? While I was settling in, the innkeeper silently stood at a corner of the spacious room and carefully studied my face. He let out a sigh of relief when I donned a satisfied expression. I gave him a thumb up, which was an unofficial way of me telling the innkeeper he could brag about this.

“This is the room that René of the Tavern has approved,” the innkeeper would later boast to his future guests, then charge a hefty amount of coins for the stay. Dad often complained I was too generous in giving thumb ups.

“You must raise your standard,” dad once said, after having gone out of his way to visit and inspect a tavern that I had supposedly given a thumb up. Easy for him to say, I thought. He had had none other than the Baroness herself and the Roseborn staying for months. That fact alone dwarfed my little thumb up when it came to who had the most special recognition.

Satisfied with my accommodation, I set out and joined the mayor and his people who had been waiting outside. We strolled through the town at a leisurely pace, the mayor pointing things out and explaining what was what. Even though the sun had already set, Maiencour was in full swing. Carts driven by donkeys and oxen kept rolling in and unloaded barrels and crates. Inns and taverns were stocking up. Maiencour had always had a fair share of travelers passing through, but the upcoming conference was a new challenge for the small town. What’s more, it wasn’t just a one-off event. For three weeks a month, Maiencour would be swarmed by a hundred or so loud-mouthed, self-important craftsmen and their most senior apprentices, coming from all corners of the Barony. And that would go on for at least a year, or longer. I hoped this would forever change the commercial landscape of this little farm town, and subsequently transform Maiencour into a viable regional hub where people and goods not only passed through but also stopped by.

We walked through the busy market alley, which wasn’t really that long. We came across a large crowd of people gathered at a small plaza. There were lots of torches and candles lit, and in the center, a long wooden table had been set up, on which fruits and meats and crops had been laid, and they continued to pile up. The residents lined up with small pouches and sacks and such of their offerings. One by one, they would place whatever they had brought onto the table, clap three times, and make a dramatic bow.

“Ah, we are thanking for the harvest a bit early this year,” the mayor explained, following my curious eyes. “What with a whole lot of visitors coming next week, we thought we wouldn’t have the time.”

“I see. Very sensible.”

I gave him a smile, but my eyes were locked onto Miris. Invisible to others, she stood at the table and examined the offerings. The goddess of prosperity had a large sack in one hand, and she was picking things up and stuffing them into the sack. The autumn evening breeze made her thin semi-transparent robe sway, which made me wonder how and why the mortal realm’s physics was interacting with the divine. I had always wondered about that, but could never find a satisfying answer.

You see, the goddesses. They were everywhere, doing their respective jobs. Welp, not always en situ. Often they wouldn’t bother to show up at all but would instead flick their fingers from their rooms, which got the job done remotely. When they did show up, however, I could see them. Occasionally, in their off-duty time, they would come visit me in the forms of small animals and insects. But when they were down here on business, they would come in their goddess shapes. And when I saw them on such occasions, I, being a herald, would also see things. Their divine presence affected me somehow, and I saw many things that represented each goddess. Souls of the deceased, when Eris was around. With Iris, a continuous cycle of saplings sprouting and growing, flowering and then withering. Miris had coins rolling around and mounds of bread loaves and barrels of ales. Thankfully, I hadn’t seen Paris down here to do her business. I hoped I would never witness the goddess of disasters and calamities in action.

Before my reincarnation, I had not had the chance to get to know ALL goddesses. I had gotten close to and befriended a handful, but apparently, there were a plethora of other girls living in that huge villa. I had been told that they were either too busy or too shy or too hikikomori. Some were even locked up for whatever reason. I didn’t even know how many of them there were, but one thing I knew for sure, though, was that every single one of them was a variation of ‘X-ris.’ Anyway, since I reincarnated, there had been several occasions where I had been surprised to spot a goddess amidst the mortals. If it hadn’t been for the accompanying special effects, I wouldn’t have recognized them as deities at all. But for Miris, I knew her face well. I recognized her right away.

And Miris was down here in Maiencour to do her business. To take the things that were offered as thanks for another year of a good harvest. Last I had seen her was some months ago when she came to me in the form of an owl. Now in her goddess form, Miris looked as pretty as ever. And a bit playful, too. Such a delight to the eyes, but not entirely so once one got to know their entitled personalities and egos.

“Whom exactly are we thanking?” I asked the mayor, my eyes still on Miris. She noticed me and waved with a huge smile.

“I… I am not sure,” the mayor hesitated. “God maybe? We are nevertheless very thankful in general. For the bountiful year. I hope that is what matters.”

I raised my eyebrows inquisitively, and Miris nodded back.

“Yes, I am certain that’s what counts the most,” I relayed her answer.

I saw Miris gesturing to get my attention. She eagerly pointed at the aubergine-potatoes that were neatly stacked into a mini-tower.

“Ahem, I’ve heard Maiencour’s aubergine-potatoes are particularly good this year,” I ventured. “Perhaps we should offer some more? To show our gratitude?”

“My, you really do hear all the talks across the Roseland!” the mayor was impressed. “But here in Maiencour, we call them the magenta-potato,” he added.

“Right,” I nodded. One more reason why we should have common names for things. The mayor told his people to get some more of those potatoes on the table. Miris seemed happy. When the potato tower grew taller, she gingerly stuffed them into her sack. It was magical to watch. The offerings physically remained on the table, but her sack became fuller. The divine girls in the celestial realm would have a feast.

###

Overall I was satisfied with Maiencour’s preparation to host the long season of multiple conferences. I returned to my room and threw myself on the bed, a bit tired. This was a short trip. I had to return and help the Baron and my colleagues tally the Roseland’s harvest. Letters and reports were arriving from across the Barony, and somebody had to read them all and compile the numbers. As had been promised by Miris at the time of my reincarnation, the Roseland had yet another good year. But there still were those few who had not been very fortunate. Those would need to be either exempted from the harvest tax or at least charged a reduced amount. We needed to finalize who would be eligible and for what amount. They needed me in the Baron’s Court, and besides, Anna was waiting for me. I would leave in the morning. ‘Maybe next time I stay a few more days,’ I thought. Aw, shit, I would need to shuffle Anna’s tutoring sessions.

But tonight I was alone. No pesky Anna invading my privacy. I fished a cotton rag out of my travel sack, brought for the wiping purpose. I soon got down to the business of furiously stroking my hot jalapeno.

“Interesting,” a tiny voice said from the windowpane as I was about to unload.

“Wha!!!”

Surprised, I spun around. A brown rat was perched on the window and was watching with little curious eyes. The rude intruder was greeted with a hot strand of sticky web strewn over its squirming face.

“Fuck you!” I yelled at the rat, and quickly pulled up my pants.

“This tastes funny. What is this?” said the rat.

I sighed. Fuck these goddesses. I grabbed the rag, pushed it down inside my pants, and mopped around as best as I could without displaying my wet sausage.

“Now. Which one are you?” I asked, throwing the dirty rag into the burning fireplace on the opposite end of the room.

“Miris, of course. Can’t you tell? Anyway, I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

“No, I can’t tell because there are so many of you. And no, I didn’t expect to see you either.”

“I came back to say hello.”

“But please don’t just barge in-”

“Oh! I know what this is! I remember!” Miris interrupted me. “You released this when we played with your groin attachment! That woke you up, remember?”

“Vividly, yes! Woke me up from my death. You shouldn’t really-”

“Anyway,” Miris changed the topic. Typical goddess, not really listening to what a mortal has to say. “Thank you for putting up some more of those sweet potatoes.”

I scoffed and shook my head, defeated.

“Yeah, I remembered you girls liked it.”

“Fatboy is grumbling, though. He thinks the more I bring back, the more kitchen time for him.”

“Then you should give him some break, don’t you think? Besides, don’t call God Fatboy. Dude is a revered deity to many mortals.”

“Yeah, right.”

Not having much else to say, I sighed and studied the rat’s face. Miris sat there, nose winkling. She wiped off my discharge with a paw and gave it one more taste test.

“If you worry so much about her, why don’t you go talk to her directly?”

“Firis? Nah~”

“Why not?”

“It’s bad enough we trapped that poor girl in mortal flesh. Talking to her face to face would be too much of a pain.”

“Well…” I shrugged. I understood what she meant. Although they frequently came down to check on Anna, the goddesses had never talked to their dear friend. They would just watch her from the shadows from afar, through the borrowed eyes. After that, they would come to talk to me. It had been like that for years. Miris said she would feel sorry for meeting face to face with mortal Anna, but I suspected there was another reason why the goddesses avoided meeting Firis directly. I thought they were afraid. After all, it was they who had infused the comatose goddess into flesh and bones and hurled her across the universe in a meteorite. Talking to Anna revealed she didn’t have much of a plan other than landing on my head and eventually becoming a myth by fighting in a war. A war, which she had no clear idea when it will happen. I had a hunch Firis had had no knowledge of what was happening to her until the last minute. I thus imagined the girls shoving baby Anna into the astro-eggshell and giving confused Anna a last-minute instruction.

“Find your boy. Become a legend. A myth,” that probably was what they had told her just before launching the meteorite. With that, the bitches had made her MY problem.

In that regard, my Anna was taking it well. Rather brave, considering it was her existence that was being gambled. Her very being, entrusted unto an idiot who had just been caught with his dick in his hand. My, maybe I should bring her some of these aubergine-potatoes. I felt Anna deserved all the good things in the world for being such a brave girl. But fuck Miris. If she told the other girls what she saw today, I would slap that bitch. Really.