There are debts of kindness in life that can never truly be repaid.
—Riven
The province of Navori governed seven towns, each with authority over ten villages. Every town was led by an elected elder, most of whom came from Ionian sects or temples. These elders presided over the town councils, where five members—typically from prominent families—joined them to decide taxes and policies. Each of the seven elders also sat in the Navori provincial council. Above them stood the Grand Elder of the province, who in turn was a member of Ionia's supreme council.
The capital of Navori was the sacred city of Presidian, which also served as Ionia's capital—its administrative and spiritual heart.
At the national level, the Gerontocracy was composed of eight elders, each representing a province's interests. Beneath them, the High Council of Ionia held twenty-four members: eight provincial governors and sixteen appointed by the elders. Together, they determined the direction of the nation.
Antomia, who had come to Stat Village, was born into a family of master woodweavers. Her keen insight and logical mind had elevated her to one of the three magistrates of the town, responsible for judging cases and mediating disputes. She also sat among the town's elders. Her visit meant the higher authorities had noticed the changes in the village and sent her to assess them.
Rosha had expected this eventually. He had made far too much noise for the local powers to ignore.
"This morning I marveled at Stat Village's prosperity. Now that I've met the man behind it, allow me, as an Ionian, to thank you for helping my people," Antomia said, rising and bowing deeply. Her tone was sincere.
Rosha hadn't expected gratitude to be her first words. It gave him new respect for her—this was a woman who truly acted for her people, just as her judgment in Riven's case had once shown.
"You honor me. I am Ionian now as well," Rosha replied, accepting her bow.
"Then, to business. These are questions Elder Capen and the council demand answers to," Antomia said, sitting again with a sterner tone.
"Rosha, where are you from?"
"Kursara, a small city in southern Noxus."
"From what we know, Noxus has no such thing as your… ecological agriculture. Why should we believe you?" Her eyes bore into him without flinching.
"Knowledge and experience accumulate until they spark new discoveries and techniques," Rosha smiled faintly. "My lady, quantity leads to qualitative change. That is an eternal truth."
Antomia pondered his words for a long time, then nodded slightly. "I know you've collected nearly every book you can find. I know you're gathering seeds and recruiting talent. This too is part of your process of accumulation?"
"Time will prove it," Rosha answered.
"Elder Capen wants to know if the Stat Village model can be spread to other villages. And if it can, what price must we pay?" She rose as she asked, revealing that this was the true purpose of her visit.
Rosha was stunned. That the highest town elder wanted to spread ecological agriculture was beyond what he expected.
"Do not be surprised. Elder Capen was born a commoner. In the recent war, he lost a son and two grandsons," Antomia sighed. "If we had been stronger, perhaps we would not have been invaded."
It took a push from Riven before Rosha came back to himself. He nodded. "It can be spread. I already have twenty-seven trained specialists ready."
"You mean those children?" This time, Antomia was the one left dumbfounded.
"Yes. Each of them guided a household's agricultural reform," Rosha confirmed.
"And the cost?" Antomia asked with a trace of hope.
"I need funding to build an academy. I need teachers and skilled workers—blacksmiths, tinkers, even woodweavers like yourself," Rosha said firmly.
"That's all?" She stood again, as though she couldn't believe her ears.
"That's all," Rosha repeated.
"No problem. I will see it done. If necessary, I will even work for you myself," Antomia said at last, breaking into a broad, toothy smile that seemed strangely at odds with her usual dignified aura.
The agreement reached, Shava warmly invited the magistrate to dine with them and see her son's new inventions.
Rosha's face darkened. Some things weren't ready for outsiders yet—why show them?
"Your mother has her reasons," Riven whispered, noticing his expression.
As Shava escorted Antomia into the workshop, Ryze stepped from behind the trees. He glanced at Rosha and Lulu and said, "Time to train. This afternoon's class, let Riven handle it."
Rosha instantly understood. The old mage was giving him cover. By taking Rosha away under the guise of training, he prevented Antomia from probing too deeply. Mystery would only benefit Rosha in the long run.
Inside, Antomia saw miniature waterwheels turning, models of strange ships sailing on a mock river, and vegetables growing inside a crystal-walled house.
"These are all things Iza says will change our lives," Shava said proudly, her eyes crinkled with joy.
"Do you know how he plans to achieve it?" Antomia asked. She was at a loss for words. Even the models alone made it clear these inventions could transform ordinary life.
"No… he is still experimenting," Shava admitted, then added cautiously, "My lady, please don't be angry. He says some of it may not align with the Balance."
Antomia froze. Balance was sacred to Ionia. She looked at Shava in shock. "So all of this is still only experiments?"
"Yes, my lady." Shava pointed to the crystal house. "This lets vegetables grow even in winter."
"In winter?" Antomia's eyes widened. She studied Shava, then said gently, "Old mother, he does not need you to shield him so."
Shava's face went pale, sweat breaking on her brow.
"Do not worry. I will not report this," Antomia sighed softly, stepping out of the workshop.
Riven slipped in and dabbed Shava's forehead with a cloth, smiling. "You don't need to worry for him. He can handle these things. If you were taken because of it, he would go mad."
"I don't want anything to happen to him," Shava wept, tears streaming down her cheeks.
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