World Domination System

Oliva was at her wit’s end.

It had been one week since that fateful day when she had seen her family being strung up on trees, and since then, it had only been the words of her father that prevented her from running out and trying something stupid such as freeing them even though they were actively being watched by a few people who had been appointed specifically by Bourdain.

Food was not a problem in the two glades which were quite large on the side of the village of Eastcliff - one of the things that the children learned when they were small was how to forage for forest berries that were nutritious and even tasty if they could be found when they were ripe, and even though they were never very abundant, she could find enough to satiate herself.

That was how she had been spending each day - she would search for food, sleep in that tree while cuddling up with her dress which represented the warmth of her parents and the hope for things getting better, and then going back to the spot where they were still in the air, unconscious, for the most part, until they were prodded awake and fed as they were being kept alive for some reason by the new chieftain.

She knew that he was the new chieftain as she could often hear conversations from inside her hiding place whenever people occasionally searched for her, and from them, she had found out that she was the only one missing - the rest of the children had all been accounted for, and this had made her remark that they had never been as good as her in this game, and then wish that it wasn’t so, as she might not be alone if that was the case.

Initially, she had been determined to dig in and continue to hide until her father could find her, just like he said, but from the third day, she had started to lose hope that he would be able to escape. It was obvious that the reason behind them being placed in the air like that was so that they would have no chance whatsoever of attempting anything, and they weren’t even fed that much, causing them to already look weak and thin.

Her mother would wail at times, and her voice would be heard all over the first glade, prompting Oliva to come out of her hiding place, because it was nice to hear the familiar voice even though it was in anguish. She would pray for a miracle, mostly, but once, she had even cursed at the new chieftain, and that had been followed by an awful noise which Oliva tried not to think about. She had seen the smallest trickle of blood on the bark of the tree on which her mother was tied a bit later, and at first, she had been scared and had been about to assume the worst, but thankfully, she had heard her father admonishing her mother and telling her that she would not just be pelted with a stone the next time if she tried a stunt like that again.

As for his brothers, they seemed to be resigned to their fates, as they mostly spent their time looking around with hopeless eyes. She always made sure that she was hidden perfectly, so they could never see her, but she could see them, and so, so many times, she had to resist the temptation of going forward and telling them that she was alright.

She resisted it, though, as she knew that it was important for her to be free.

She also heard other conversations, as she had actively started to collect information just so that she would have something to do, instead of brooding all alone on her uncertain future.

The new chieftain had a very close adviser, with whom he often spoke privately. The first time that Oliva had heard them speak, this adviser had reminded her, for some reason, of that dastardly beggar, but she had struck aside this thought as it seemed to have come due to the fact that she was constantly thinking of the story he had told her, ever since she had seen that horrifying image that still kept her up for a long, long time every night.

The chieftain would speak about a lot of bad things, and even though she didn’t know the meaning of many of them, she could gather that they were evil, mainly from the glee with which he looked forward to them. The adviser would constantly stop him from doing those things, though, using his trustworthy voice to give valid reasons, such as that he had not cemented his position perfectly yet, or that he still needed to set the plan for the future and show himself as a just leader before embarking on these activities which would bring friction(whatever that meant) in the group.

Sometimes, she would even wonder whether the adviser was a good man, but that suspicion would always stop in its tracks when he would also talk about those things expectantly, which would lead to long discussions accompanied by a lot of drinking.

As for the rest of those who had been kneeling near the trees on that day, they were the ones doing the chores in the village. They were working themselves to the bone, and it was almost as bad as it had been when their crops had failed during one fateful winter. As for those who had been drinking on that day, they seemed to be spending their time sleeping or just playing the game of dice which many people enjoyed in the village, and it was obvious that they were very, very happy that they could live in such a carefree manner.

Oliva had really wished that things would continue in that way, so that she could slowly continue to investigate and find a way in which she could help her family.

But yesterday... Everything had changed.

Yesterday night, the chieftain and his adviser had had another long talk, and this time, for once, the latter had failed.

The chieftain was adamant that it was not enough. He kept repeating that he wanted more, and at one point, it even felt as if he was snarling like a beast, rather like a man.

He said that he needed complete subservience, and that they should bend at his feet and beg for his grace to even live. He said that he wanted that feeling of being in command which he had apparently had as a bandit leader before a certain female bandit had appeared and taken it away, and he also stated that it was the best method for them to amass riches.

He laid out his plan to transform the village into a bandit group, and he kept talking about some object which he believed he could use to rule the entire continent, itself, if he was smart and patient.

But first... according to him, everything had to start with the former chieftain. He was a symbol of the past, and he had to die.

The adviser said that this would result in an uprising as he was someone who was still respected, but the chieftain said that he was prepared to deal with any circumstance, and that it would also be good as it would expose those who had the intention of opposing his rule.

He said that he would first set fire to the five trees, and if anyone dared to stop him, they would be tied to the trees, too, to join the family of the chieftain on the journey to the afterlife.

Oliva had been so horrified that she had even forgotten to breathe, resulting in lightheadedness which almost made her fall and attract the attention of the two.

Thankfully, she had learnt the lesson last time when she had almost been caught in her house, so she had managed to catch herself at the last moment, and take in heaving breaths while her mind was in turmoil.

This was almost too much for someone as young as her to bear, and in fact, over the past few days, there had been many, many times when she had gotten so close to just giving up and crying endlessly until the evil people could find her because in that way, she would at least be reunited with her family.

However... She kept reminding herself of that woman who had been just like her, and the way in which she had cared for everyone even though they didn’t care for her.

Here, everyone loved her, too, so she had no reason whatsoever to give up. She kept telling herself that if someone else could do it, she could, too, and because that person must only have succeeded because they didn’t give up, she would also try her best.

Of course, she hadn’t been told about that part, but as that was how she needed the story to end, she had convinced herself that it must be the truth.

And as for the part about the praying... She had tried it, in the same manner that everyone prayed whenever they wished for good fortune, but nothing had happened, and she had come to the conclusion that it had only worked for that woman when she was in that grave situation, whereas she was safe in the forest right now.

Still, she had continued to pray everyday, because even though nothing happened in the world outside, she felt as if that prayer was giving her strength, and that strength was allowing her to take step after step each day with the certainty that she would see her family again, and return to the happy life that she had had before everything had happened.

She even tried praying in many different ways - she would start with addressing the mother Angaria with as much love and affection that she had for her real mother, because after thinking about it, she had realised that this mother had also given them everything that they had ever asked for, in the form of the berries that she ate, the fresh air that she was breathing, and the strong legs which carried her firmly to wherever she needed to go.

She would pray for this Mother to send her son to help her, as she was in a very dreadful state, and because she didn’t know exactly how to do it, she even started promising things in return, such as that she would be a good girl and do all of the chores that she was given right away, or that she would never, ever talk back to the rude son of the butcher even if he secretly used bad words behind everyone’s back. She also started to promise that she would give all of her dolls, and even though there was never any response, she did not lose hope, because, again, the one in the story always kept coming back into her mind.

None of that mattered now, though, because if she didn’t do something...she would never see her parents again.

She had spent the whole night in a panicked state, and finally, she had a plan.

It was simple, but she hoped that it would work, because if it didn’t...she was done for.

Her little heart felt like it would beat out of her chest, but Oliva forcefully controlled it, telling herself that she had to be brave for the village.

From what she had heard, the burning would be at noon. From the position of the sun, she could tell that it was around ten minutes away, so she set out to carry out her plan.

She was cutting it close, as she had no choice. She knew that if she moved when everyone was present, she would be caught, so this was her only chance.

Sure enough, the main village was mostly empty, as the location of the trees was near her house.

Going to Aunty Clain’s house, she found the woman’s prized possession: a small object that could create a spark.

Taking it and arriving at the large stack of hay in the center of the village, Oliva quickly picked out a few bunches and laid them in a line away from it.

"Mother Angaria, I pray this works."

With a quick prayer, she lit the hay near her and ran like the wind.

By the time she had entered the first glade, shouts could be heard from in front of her, as people were pointing at the main village, from where smoke could be seen.

"Quiet! Which fool left a fire burning? Everyone who’s free, let’s go! We can’t have the damn village burn down!"

Yes! That’s what she wanted!

After the sound of many footsteps faded, Oliva ran up to the place near the five trees.

Just like before, all of the people who had apparently chosen to not follow the new chieftain were tied here.

She ran into a snag, though, here- there were two people on guard, and even though they were nothing compared to the 200 who were tied, they had bows and arrows, while the legs and hands of the 200 were tied.

"Mother Angaria, what do I do!"

She expected nothing in response, but to her shock...a branch in front of her suddenly swayed, allowing a ray of light to shine onto a stocky man.

There was no wind. Then how had this happened?

Confidence and hope building within her, Oliva ran forward after making sure that the two were looking in a different direction.

The ray of light had fallen on her distant uncle, who was known for his fists that could defeat anyone.

At first, she was afraid that her appearance might cause a reaction in the group which would attract the attention of the guards, but thankfully, an elder of the village saw her first and warned everyone.

Surprise flashed on many faces, but heeding the words of the old man, they stayed still.

Thanking him in her heart, she ran to the stocky man and untied the bonds around his hands and legs.

Just as she was done, one of the guards turned around...but had his face greeted by a rock.

He toppled, unconscious, and before the other could turn around, her uncle had jumped forward with a snarl.

He had already been prepared with the rock, and with his size, he had no issue with overpowering the other guard.

Meanwhile, Oliva began to untie as many people as she could find.

"Good girl! Well done!"

"Like father, like daughter! We knew we weren’t doomed!"

"Great job, Oliva! Do me next!"

With encouraging words coming from all around her, Oliva’s heart which had been in a ragged state felt warm again. Quickening her actions, she continued to quickly get everyone free, and with her uncle’s help, the 200 villagers were all untied in the matter of a few minutes.

From the direction of the village, shouts could be heard, but the smoke wasn’t as much as it had been before.

The hay was separated from the huts, but there was still a chance that embers might set fire to the village. So, anyone would focus on putting the fire out as quickly as possible.

Her parents were brought down next, and when Oliva was hugged tightly by her father, the tears that she had been holding in for the entire week arrived in a flood.

However, there was no time.

Even though he was weak, the former chieftain said, "I’m proud of you, little liv liv. But we have to go. Go to your mother, and stay with her. Everyone, into the glade! We have to try to catch them when they’re unaware!"

With his leadership, it looked like everyone was poised to take back control of the village.

Oliva continued to cry in the hands of her mother, wishing that she would never have to go through anything like this again.

Relief flooded through her, and she even thanked Mother Angaria again and again, and that beggar, as without his story, she wouldn’t have made it.

Burying her face in her mother’s clothes, Oliva let it all out, and all of the villagers looked in her direction with pity, but also gratefulness.

Soon, they were at the edge of the second glade, and seeing no one nearby, her father gave the other for them to move silently in the direction of the village.

Only the children stayed behind, as even the women were formidable when there was a need.

The rest of the children crowded around her, asking her what she had been doing, and she proudly began to tell them everything.

She believed that her father, now freed, would definitely succeed, so she felt carefree.

Just as she was about to end her story, though...a voice crushed all of these feelings in her mind.

"So, there you are. Get her! She’s the one I want to make an example of!"

It was Bourdain!

With horror, Oliva was about to turn around, but she felt a heavy blow on her head, knocking her unconscious.

The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake roughly by someone.

Waking up and looking around groggily, Oliva saw that she was back in the dreaded place which had come in her nightmares so many times.

At first, she wondered, and then wished that she was dreaming.

This was because the villagers she had freed were kneeling in front of her, tied, again, and in front of her...was Bourdain, who was grinning with delight.

"Haha, it was perfect! You really thought I didn’t know it was a diversion? Foolish little girl! Now, time to die! HAHAHA-"

As he broke out into maniacal laughter, Oliva looked behind her, and what she saw shocked her awake.

Her parents were back on the trees, and the one with her father also had the uncle she had freed first.

Her hands were tied behind her, and putting her down, Bourdain shouted, "Now, finally, we can do what we should have done a week back! A proper example has to be set! Everyone, watch! Watch as she is whipped to death! Oppose me, and your children will meet the same fate!"

Saying so, Bourdain picked up a whip made from a special kind of tree from the ground.

Oliva knelt on the ground, completely crushed.

Her plan had failed. Now, there was no one who could help them. No one who could change anything. No one who could save them.

Anyway she looked at it, all that was left was to go to the place where her granddad was supposed to be.

She had tried her best, but alas, it was all over.

Or...was it?

The sound of the whip hitting the ground beside her seemed to give her new life, and the image of a girl just like her, with a sword at her neck, came in her mind.

Bourdain was rambling something, but she didn’t care.

All she could think about was the beggar, the story, and that branch that had moved.

Like never before, with all her heart, she prayed.

She prayed for help.

She prayed for hope.

She prayed for salvation.

And she prayed for liberation.

The prayer drove away the fear, and opening her eyes wide, she shouted, "Mother! Father! Everyone! If you believe in me, pray! Pray to Mother Angaria! And she will help us! Please! Do it for me! Do it for us! Do it!"

The entire village, and even Bourdain looked at her with startled expressions on their faces on hearing her fervent scream.

There was silence for a moment, but then, Bourdain exploded into laughter.

But ignoring him again, Oliva closed her eyes and prayed under her breath, which made it obvious to everyone who was looking that she was doing exactly what she had just said.

"How foolish! You’ll be squealing, soon! Watch, all of you!"

CRACK!

With a sound like a gunshot, the whip headed in Oliva’s direction!

"NO!"

"OLIVA!"

"YOU MONSTER!"

Shouts of fury rang out in the area, but after a second...pin-drop silence appeared among them all.

The reason behind this was the image presented in front of them.

Everyone had expected the whip to strike Oliva and make her scream. Everyone expected that her prayers would stop, and as the blood flowed from her wounds, she would cry, and beg, but there would be no one to come to her aid.

But her prayer...did not stop.

The whip flew true, but at the last moment...something invisible had swatted it aside.

Everyone saw it clearly. Bourdain was an expert with the weapon- he hadn’t missed. But just before it could hit its target, it had swerved.

What...was going on?

As this question appeared in everyone’s mind, a group which had stayed silent until now suddenly spoke up.

"She said her prayers worked! She said anyone can pray, too! Mother, father, please pray!"

"That’s how she didn’t get scared! Uncles, please, pray!"

"Pray to Mother Angaria! Please! Everyone, let’s do it!"

It was the children Oliva had spoken to, and after beseeching all of their parents, they all adopted the same pose as her, and began to whisper under their breaths.

By this point, Bourdain had convinced himself that he must have missed.

With a snarl, he turned on the little cretins who had dared to speak up.

In his heart, he knew that something was wrong. But unwilling to listen to that feeling, he shouted, "Who gave you the permission to talk? Stop what you’re doing, and watch your friend die!"

CRACK!

With another loud sound, the whip flew again.

This time, even if the same thing happened, it would still hit one of the children, as there were over 50 of them bunched together.

But again...the unthinkable happened.

As if hitting an invisible barrier, the whip rebounded in Bourdain’s direction, and everyone was unharmed.

"Wh-what...?"

With alarm filling his face, Bourdain looked around, as if trying to spot someone who might be playing tricks on him.

And seeing this, the rest of the villagers started to speak.

"I don’t know what’s happening...but they’re right! Let’s pray!"

"Yes! Everyone, pray!"

"Pray to the Mother! Pray! Pray!"

One by one, even the most obstinate of the villagers, who might never have done something like this for their entire lives if they hadn’t entered this kind of a situation took the same position as Oliva, and began to pray.

They said various things. But the one thing they made sure to do...was address everything they were saying to Mother Angaria.

"Archers! Shoot! It must be a mage who’s having fun! His barriers will break with force, and he will be exposed! SHOOT, OR YOU’LL DIE AT MY HANDS!"

Pushed into movement by those last words, the 100 on Bourdain’s side all raised their bows.

They were unwilling to let go of the arrows, as these were still the ones whom they regarded as their family. But ever since they had been swayed by Bourdain, their actions hadn’t been in their control, and again, his words made them do it.

Their eyes and minds were filled with unwillingness, but their bodies moved anyway.

They watched the arrows take flight, cursing themselves and their momentary greed, and wishing that they hadn’t succumbed before.

But once again...the prayers worked.

The arrows froze in the air, and along with them, each of the 100 villagers found themselves losing control of their bodies.

"It’s fine! Shoot again! SHOOT! WHY ARE YOU STILL? SHOOT, DAMMIT!"

Fully convinced that it was magic, which had a limit, Bourdain used the trinket he had been given, but for the first time...there was no response.

’No no no no no no! This shouldn’t be happening! Not again!’

Fear finally appearing in his mind, he took out a dagger from his waist and jumped forward.

"You! It’s all your fault! I’ll kill you, and it’ll stop!"

Saying so, he raised the dagger high, and feeling his presence, Oliva opened her eyes.

She had been praying without a care until now, but suddenly, she had heard the gentlest of voices in her ears.

"You’ve done well, little child. The Mother that you pray for...is within you. Stand up, and face evil head-on, even if it seems hopeless. Stand up, little child, for I...have arrived."

No more needed to be said. Full of conviction, Oliva rose and shouted, "He is here! I’m not afraid of you, anymore! Everyone, it worked, thank you!"

All of the villagers looked up to witness a scene they would remember, and preach for the rest of their lives.

With her chest puffed out, an innocent, but incredibly brave 10 year old stood against a tall and wicked man whose dagger was on its way to snuff out the flame of her life.

She raised her hand, as if she was not a child, but a Mage who could command the world, and in her eyes, the belief that what she wanted would come to life shone brilliantly.

For a moment, it looked like it was just the foolish fancy of a child. It looked like the dagger would strike true, and that they had all been fooled into believing something that didn’t exist.

But right as the tip of that dagger was about to pierce her hand...everything changed.

There was a bright flash of light which blinded all of the villagers, and by the time they adjusted their vision, they were greeted by an image which made them all suck in deep gasps of breath.

Behind Olivia, with his hand stretched out exactly like her, stood a being who seemed as if he was made of pure light.

His form was human in shape, but it had bright, almost blinding rays of light shooting out in all directions, all over his body, and just looking at his radiant form made all kinds of feelings appear in the minds of those watching.

Strenght. Courage. Faith. Trust. And finally...reverence.

Bourdain had frozen where he stood, and bending down, this being patted Oliva’s head, who stared at him with wide-open eyes.

His voice seemed to echo throughout the area, and he said, "Little child, you called for me, and I have come. What do you need?"

Oliva needed a moment to answer, and when she did, it was in an ecstatic tone.

The others hadn’t noticed it, but his eyes were actually the most brilliant part of him. The rays of light which emanated from there were a faint reddish in color, which, for some reason, made them feel pure, and looking into them, she spoke.

"Thank you! Please save my village from these evil men! I even know they’re not really evil, so can you make them the nice uncles and aunties who helped me grow up, again? Please do this! Please! I’ll give you anything! My dolls! My precious hiding spots! I’ll even give you...my pretty dress! I love it so, so much, but I’ll give it! Please!"

Her sincere wish brought gratitude and affection in the eyes of the villagers present, and they wondered how the being would respond.

First, putting his hand on his chin, the being seemed to think for a bit, before flicking his fingers and making Oliva gasp with surprise, as the dress she had just mentioned was now in his hands.

"Yes, it’s that one! Please take it! Please help everyone! I love it, but...I love them all more! Please!"

The little girl’s sacrifice melted the hearts of those looking on.

It was obvious that this was her most prized possession, but for them, she was ready to let it go.

For a moment, it looked like the being would do just that.

But with another flick of his finger...the dress replaced the one Oliva was wearing, and his voice appeared again.

"A heartfelt prayer is more precious than the wealth of the entire world, little child. You prayed for Mother Angaria, and she sent me, her son, to aid you. For now and forevermore, take my name, and if your prayer is true, your wish shall come true."

Oliva felt the tears flow down her cheeks as she heard him. But unlike before, these were tears of happiness.

With a nod at the being who patted her head with love, again, she knelt and shouted, "Godking! I wish for my village to be saved!"

His voice returned, and in that moment...Angaria was changed, forever.

"Very well. I, am here, so Angaria...shall never fear. Glory be to the Mother!"