A long time ago, somewhere near the end of the continent, there was an old village that was known by the surroundings for its honorable residents, the most impressive good manners and for perfect compliance with the rules. That village was called Elsiefield and it was controlled by the board of the three elders, who were responsible for laying down new rules and setting penalties to the ones who broke them. They knew better than anyone else the importance to observe the principles and to maintain the welfare.
The residents of Elsiefield seemed pretty happy to live their simple and guided lives. The elders, Boan, Fanri and Eladios, have witnessed the lives and the deaths of many and many Elsiefielders. They understood the manners and the spirits of their children, their pupils. Nobody has ever questioned the established rules because the perfect harmony was something largely praised around those fields.
One day like any other day, Fanri suggested they announced to the whole village during the Spring Festival that the three of them would retire. The plan was to watch what would happen if the village suddenly went out of guidance. What would Elsiefielders do without them? Although Boan and Eladios immediately liked the idea, they were a little bit concerned about the resident’s attitudes towards the new situation. Fanri recognized the risks, but he told them he was pretty confident that their Elsiefielders would maintain the usual harmony while they begged the elders to return. The other two men agreed with the plan. Boan, the eldest of the members of the board, was hopeful that the villagers would reckon him for his wisdom and the long period he has served the council. Eladios presumed that Elsiefield would accept their retirement and demand a new council composed by their three sons Abet, Henri and Lauge, after all he was really fed up with the job. Fanri had a secret agenda himself. In fact he proposed that plan to actually take over the control.
The festival came, the announcement was made and the village panicked. It was like a huge meteor, a tidal wave has come over the Elsiefielders. Some of them were shocked. Some revolted. Some lost. Some even felt lonely. When the sun woke up the day after the Festival, it could only witness pieces of glass, that once stand in the front of beautiful shops, tossed over the streets. All the stores were broken up, the goods stolen. Some of the shops and houses were still being consumed by the fire. It wasn’t known who started it. Debris, corpses laid around the main square that once had seen peaceful villagers. After the whole confusion began, the three elders rapidly escaped to the Council Chamber, at the end of Main Street. The house had a secret passage in the basement only they knew about, so they got into it when the flames started eating the house. Theirs sons were left behind. They remained hidden in the forest for a long time, in the old Mr. Leamn house, the former blacksmith who died two years before.
Days passed, the Elsiefield survivors, one by one, finally came out of their own basements, afraid and hungry. They were finally by themselves, unguided, unruled, free. They looked at the destroyed village, the fire were already gone. As for the deads, nothing else could be done but grieve. A small group started to gather the corpses to properly prepare them for a decent funeral. Another group took care of the debris, sweeping off the dirt, the pain and the shame.
Five residents gathered at the main street started talking about their future, something had to be done for those lost people. Sarah, the former owner of the bakery, spoke to the assembly. They were hoping for directions, for a leader. Sarah told them about the old times, when they were peacefully guided and how badly things turned out to be at the end. She asked for cooperation from all of them, everyone were now responsible for proposing and questioning rules; taking care of each other as well as observing everyone’s compliance with the common values and principles. All of them agreed with her and a meeting was scheduled for the next week, were everyone would vote for a new leader and a group of five councilors responsible for looking for the needs and aspirations of different villagers. The leader and the council would be changed by vote every year to guarantee every villager would be listened.
At last there was a feeling of freedom in the air, a feeling that every need would be taken care of, that finally each Elsiefielder could be heard. And ever since then, that is the way it has been.
