Carlos felt the weight of his new responsibility on his shoulders. Leading an entire quilombo was a task far beyond anything he had experienced in his past life, where his greatest leadership feat had been coordinating a school group project. Now, he was the leader of a town—small by modern standards, no doubt, but a town nonetheless, with lives, stories, and futures depending on his decisions.

  Sitting at the rustic table in his house, the scent of waxed wood and the room's damp mold filling his nostrils, he ran his fingers over the spines of a few scarce books. The weak light from a tallow candle cast dancing shadows on the wattle-and-daub walls, creating an atmosphere that was both intimate and oppressive.

  "Just how many people are in this settlement? And what are their jobs? I need to know everything. I'll talk to Aqua. She must have the information I need."

  He rose from the wooden chair, which creaked with his movement, and walked across the beaten-earth floor to Aqua's house. The structure was a little larger than his, but equally humble. He knocked on the solid wooden door, its grains and knots seeming to tell stories.

  A serene voice came from within.

  "Come in."

  As he opened the door, the sweet smell of vanilla and milk hit his senses. Aqua was sitting in a high-backed chair, a clay bowl in her hands, savoring something creamy with a wooden spoon. Her experienced eyes landed on Carlos, and she made a graceful gesture towards an empty chair in front of her, lined with simple fabric.

  "Sit down, young man. You know," she said, taking another spoonful to her mouth, "this 'ice cream' of yours is truly a delight. Cold, creamy… a wonderful invention."

  Carlos's eyes widened in surprise. He had prepared the treat only for Quixotina, in a moment of relaxation. How could Aqua know?

  She noticed his expression and a slight smile illuminated her wrinkled face, her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement.

  "You are new to the quilombo, it's natural you don't know me well yet. Knowing these little things is part of my trade. Anyway," she continued, setting the bowl aside, "I would like to tell you a story. My story, to be exact. Of course, only if a curious young man like you is willing to listen."

  Carlos, still processing the revelation, simply nodded in silent agreement.

  "Very well," Aqua began, adjusting herself in the chair. "You should know that I was the first queen this quilombo ever had. And even before I was torn from my land and brought here, I was a princess in the Kingdom of Kongo. I led my own army against invaders, until the day I was captured, chained, and sold as a slave. They brought me to Brazil, but submission was never my destiny. I soon staged a rebellion and, just like you, young man, I killed my master."

  She paused, her eyes losing focus in the memory of a bitter time.

  "Back then, there was no safe refuge for runaway slaves. Our small group walked day and night, with the sound of the slave hunters and their hounds always at our heels, a sound that still echoes in my ears to this day. Hunger was our constant companion, and fear, a bitter taste in our mouths. We pushed deeper and deeper into the forest, away from any trace of so-called civilization, but they didn't give up. Until we arrived at the Lizard Mountain." She pointed with her chin towards the window. "This very mountain that protects us. Inside it, we found fire-gem crystals. And I, as a Congolese princess and practitioner of the fire arts, had learned from an early age to carve simple things from these stones."

  Aqua took the pendant hanging from her neck. The orange-red gem shimmered in the candlelight, like a live ember.

  "In the Kingdom of Kongo," she explained, stroking the stone with her calloused fingers, "our warriors are expert users of the fire-gem. It was what allowed us to conquer our neighbors. Even the Europeans didn't know how to carve them like our royal artisans. Luckily, everyone in the royal family learns the basics, for the fire-gem is the symbol of our lineage. So, I knew how to carve basic runes: command activation, flame propagation… I used that knowledge to set fire to the forest where our pursuers were hiding."

  Her face became serious, the candlelight accentuating her harsh features.

  "The fire crackled, the trees snapped and… you could hear the screams coming from the burning forest. Screams of agony, of despair. But I felt no pity. None. If they had caught us, young man, they would have done much, much worse things to us."

  She took a sip of water from a clay cup beside her before continuing.

  "After the ashes cooled, we settled in the same place where the slave hunters had burned. For a time, life was peaceful. The land was fertile, the air was pure. It was during this time that I met the love of my life. A good man, with a strong heart… unfortunately, he has passed, his life cut down during an attack on the quilombo."

  A deep sigh escaped her lips.

  "It was during this era of peace that I gave birth to the current Ganga, Zala. We lived in relative tranquility for years, until more free people heard of our sanctuary and came to us. The news spread like fire in dry grass. Unfortunately, it wasn't only souls in need who found us. Soon, the slave hunters returned to attack us. We always managed to repel the attacks, by any means necessary," she emphasized the words, staring intently at Carlos. "This always bothered Zala, who has a peaceful nature and avoids conflict. He reminds me of my father… a good man, who converted to Christianity in the hope of having better relations with the Portuguese."

  Her tone became bitter.

  "And the Portuguese, of course, started buying our prisoners of war. Since selling slaves was profitable, hordes of hunters emerged who captured free people to sell them. The neighboring kingdoms, seduced by European magical weapons, began attacking us to kidnap our people. It was a vicious, dirty cycle: we had to sell more and more people to buy magical weapons, to defend ourselves and… capture more people to sell."

  Carlos looked at Aqua with a complex expression, a mixture of understanding, horror, and a hint of judgment he couldn't completely disguise.

  "I understand that look of yours perfectly," she said, unoffended. "Unfortunately, young man, in this world there are no pure heroes or villains, only survivors. I know the mistakes we made. I know, now, that my father's path of peace was a naive mistake. He should have burned the first Portuguese ship that docked in our kingdom. He should have burned any kingdom that dared to trade with the Europeans. He should have burned all the slave masters! But for that, conflict would have been necessary, and my father hated violence. He only started attacking the neighboring kingdoms to get more captives because we were being decimated and we desperately needed the European magical weapons to defend ourselves."

  Aqua shook her head, a deep sadness in her eyes.

  "Zala is the image of my father. He only knows the protected world of the quilombo. He knows we are attacked, it's true, but he has always been safe in the Victory Range, far from the smell of blood and raw violence. He never felt the branding iron of slavery on his own skin. Just as I never did, when I was a distant princess in my palace. The slaves who lived below me were… invisible. I only truly started to care when I became one of them."

  She closed her eyes for a moment, as if carrying a tremendously heavy burden.

  "I protected Zala too much. I didn't want him to know the cruelty of the outside world. And I see now that I made a mistake. He is a good king, without a doubt, for a kingdom at peace. But we… we will never have peace. That is why I chose you to succeed me, Carlos. Because you, with your foreign knowledge, can forge the necessary weapons so that Zala, one day, will have the strength to take up this fight."

  Aqua opened her eyes and stared directly at Carlos.

  "Well, that's my story. Now, I imagine you have a sea of questions in your head."

  Her story reminds me a bit of Tassi's... But I'm not sure I agree with her idea of burning all the merchants' ships. In the end, everyone gets stained with blood. But I didn't come here to debate philosophy... I need facts.

  "Thank you for sharing your story with me, Aqua," he said, with genuine respect in his voice. "Now that I am the new leader of the settlement, I have much to learn. To start, can you tell me exactly how many people live here?"

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  Aqua thought for a moment, her fingers drumming on the arm of the chair.

  "We've never made an exact count, but I believe it's around three thousand souls."

  "And in the entire quilombo, how many people live?"

  "Ah, that must be around twenty thousand, perhaps."

  Carlos felt a chill down his spine, but also a spark of optimism. Twenty thousand people. That's a considerable population, a solid base to start from.

  "And what is the profession of most of them?" he asked, leaning forward.

  "Most, without a doubt, work in agriculture. A few are in the army. The rest, those who are left, are artisans: potters, blacksmiths, carpenters… essential trades, but few in number."

  "How many can read?"

  Aqua frowned, surprised by the question.

  "Well, young man… I think at most about a hundred people in the entire quilombo are literate. Perhaps less."

  "Hmmm," Carlos did a quick mental calculation. "0.5% of the population. That's extremely low. We need to fix this urgently."

  Aqua watched him, visibly intrigued. His questions were unexpected, and that last phrase, full of numbers, sounded like delirium. A hint of doubt arose in her heart. Had it been a mistake to appoint him?

  "What do you plan to do with all this information?" she questioned, her tone more cautious.

  "I'm just assessing the size and quality of our workforce," Carlos explained. "To start an industrial revolution, we need a lot of people and skilled people."

  "And why do you want to have this so-called industrial revolution?" insisted Aqua, her confusion only growing.

  "To increase everyone's quality of life. In my world, at first, the industrial revolution worsened the lives of many, it's true. Men, women, and children worked for a pittance in inhuman conditions. But I don't intend to repeat those mistakes. We won't pay starvation wages nor exploit children."

  Aqua was silent for a moment, absorbing his words.

  "I see," she said finally, although she didn't seem entirely convinced.

  "What about health? Is there anyone here who can use the healing gem?"

  Aqua sighed deeply, and Carlos could feel the weariness and frustration contained in that sound.

  "We have a few people with the gift, yes. But the Church controls all the healing gem mines in the west. Of course, there's smuggling of these gems from time to time, but the Church doesn't just sell the gems; it controls the carving methods that allow the gem to heal. And it doesn't sell the magical healing tools. We buy some medicines from the Holy City occasionally, but they are very expensive. Luckily, we have a benzedeira in the quilombo with a magical tool that allows her to heal minor injuries."

  "One question I have is, what do you mean, they control the methods?" Carlos found it strange. "Isn't it just a matter of carving the gem with the correct symbols? Anyone could examine the carvings on a healing gem and copy them, couldn't they?"

  "Unfortunately, it's not that simple," Aqua explained, shaking her head. "For some gems, yes, just copying the symbols is enough. But the healing gem is… stubborn. Besides having to carve specific runes in precise areas of the stone, they must be done in a secret sequence that only the Church knows. And the gem needs to be mounted in a silver setting—a necklace, a scepter, a ring. Only silver allows the gem's power to manifest. It's an art far more complex than working with the fire-gem, which is much simpler and more straightforward."

  Taking another sip of water, she continued.

  "But the biggest obstacle is that the healing gem is extremely hard. No one knows what material the Church uses to carve it, as there are gems that can only be worked if bathed in certain acids, or that can only be scratched by a specific tool. Some even depend on the power of other gems to be shaped. Thanks to these secrets, the Church accumulates rivers of money. If you want to be healed, you need to make a generous donation. And if you need to heal an entire army… well, you have to pay much more, because you would be committing the sin of war. Common medicines are also a luxury. Luckily, the Popess of the Holy City is a charitable woman, and her churches don't charge to heal the poorest, even slaves. But we don't have one of her churches here. And, despite her kindness, she couldn't help us openly without angering the region's rulers and slave masters."

  That Popess again... How can a woman have become Pope? And is she really as good as they say? Well, no use speculating. I have more urgent problems to solve. And there are many. First of all, illiteracy. I wanted to do a census, but for that I need people who can read and write.

  Carlos sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

  "The situation is more precarious than I imagined. There are many problems, but the first one I need to tackle is education. I'm going to build a school to teach our people to read and write."

  Aqua was visibly irritated by this, and her soft features contracted.

  "What do you mean, the biggest problem here is education?" she questioned, raising her voice. "Without a doubt, our biggest problem is defense! We need to protect our people!"

  Carlos was surprised by the intensity of the reaction, but held his ground.

  "The defense problem is already being solved. The gunpowder and firearms we are developing will be a great equalizer. Besides," he argued, keeping calm, "having people with basic knowledge will be extremely useful for defense."

  Aqua's anger dissipated, replaced by confusion. Seeing her perplexed expression, Carlos continued, listing examples on his fingers:

  "For example: how much gunpowder does a battalion of musketeers use per month? How much do we produce? Do we need to hire more people for production? How much food does this army consume? What are the names of each soldier? What is their history? Are they reliable? And those who want to enlist, where did they come from, what is their origin? All of this requires records. It requires reading and writing."

  Aqua was bombarded by this flood of practical questions. Slowly, however, the value of that idea began to make sense in her experienced mind. Literate people could organize logistics, avoid wasting gunpowder, control food stocks, investigate misappropriations… she saw the potential. But the practical reality still haunted her.

  "I understand your point, young man. There really is value in that. But even so, it seems impossible to me. Where would we get enough parchment and ink for everyone? Those materials cost a fortune!"

  Carlos felt a blow. "Damn! I completely forgot about that. Of course, they still use parchment. I bet it's extremely expensive. We'd have to make our own paper first. It seems the journey will be even longer and more arduous than I imagined."

  "You are right," he admitted, frustrated. "I understand. Let's set aside health and education for now, but know that in the future they will be an absolute priority. For now, let's focus on what is feasible: industrialization. I plan to build textile factories in the city's industrial zone. Producing clothes isn't that difficult; we use the cotton we grow ourselves. The problem will be the sales channel, as we don't have direct access to markets. But we can sell to the free farmers in the surrounding areas. If we offer a low price, they can resell to merchants. Gradually, demand will increase, money will start flowing into our hands, and with it, we can buy iron for weapons, paper, and other necessities."

  Aqua listened attentively. She didn't understand half the terms Carlos used, but the final part—"money will start flowing"—sounded like music to her ears. Money meant resources. Resources meant survival and, perhaps, power.

  "I see," she said, in a more contemplative tone. "Unfortunately, I do not possess your foreign knowledge, so I cannot judge if it is a good or bad plan. Only time will tell."

  She then raised her head, and a new, lighter gleam appeared in her eyes.

  "But leaving the grand plans aside, I will tell you about some advantages of being the leader. Now you have access to sugar, cacha?a, and other rare products around here. You can have a larger house built, with decent wooden furniture. And you will also have guards for your protection at all times. A chief represents Ganga Zala before the quilombo, he needs to project authority and worth."

  Carlos pondered for a moment.

  "Hmmm, I see. But I prefer to stay in my house for now. I'll only move when we can build a brick house. As for the products, those, I accept. And about the guards… I think I'll ask Tassi and Quixotina. I want at least to have someone nearby I can talk to. And, please, don't call me chief. It's strange to hear someone older being so formal with me."

  Aqua let out a genuine laugh.

  "A brick house, like the richest sugar plantation owners? Young man, we haven't reached that level of prosperity yet! Not even Zala himself has a house like that. Don't be greedy!" she joked. "But, as you wish. Besides, you will need an assistant, someone to relay your messages and help you with your tasks. I could occupy that position."

  Carlos was surprised again. Aqua, noticing his expression, laughed once more, a rough and warm sound that echoed in the simple room.

  "Ha ha ha! Don't worry, young man, I'm still quite strong. I don't have one foot in the grave, no! I just want to see up close the changes you will bring here. And, frankly, I want to keep you in line. I know everyone here and I have everyone's respect. Earning respect is something difficult, and I imagine there are many people irritated to see someone with less than a year in the quilombo rise to such a high position. With my presence by your side, those voices will be silenced, and no one will dare harm you."

  "I understand," said Carlos, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. "I accept your help, and I thank you. I just have one last doubt… How did you find out about the ice cream I made for Quixotina?"

  Aqua gave a slight smile, almost mischievous.

  "Well, I have my ways. Guards inform me about many things. And, moreover, I like to spend afternoons chatting with Quixotina. I'm an old woman now, I don't have much to do to pass the time. And there's nothing better than eating a piece of corn cake, still warm, while we talk. We two are very different in age, it's true, but we both came from nobility. Different nobilities, from different worlds, but we made the same mistake: indifference to the suffering of the people. She is… like the daughter I never had."

  Carlos was surprised to hear that.

  I didn't expect Quixotina and her to be so close. They're two high-level gossips! I don't even want to imagine what they're saying about me behind my back. But deep down, I'm grateful she's being so open. And having an assistant who knows all the secrets and intricacies of this place… that is more valuable than all the gold in the world.