chapter 11

The village had changed faster than anyone could have imagined. Fields were now lush with crops thanks to the steam-powered irrigation system, and the craftsmen worked faster and more efficiently with the new tools Faisal had introduced. The people had started to speak of him in awe, calling him the man who brought miracles to their land.

But with that awe came fear. Not everyone understood the technology, and whispers had begun to spread among some of the more traditional villagers. The blacksmith had seen one of the new windmills turning on its own, and a group of farmers had watched in horror as water flowed from the irrigation system, powered by a machine instead of men. For them, it was something unnatural. Something… unholy.

It was early morning when Faisal first caught wind of the unrest. He was in the forge, reviewing new blueprints for advanced farming tools, when one of his workers, a young boy named Asad, rushed in, eyes wide with panic.

"My lord! There's trouble in the village square!" he stammered, barely able to catch his breath.

Faisal looked up calmly, though he could feel tension beginning to stir. "What kind of trouble?"

"The villagers—they're saying… they're saying you're a witch! That your machines are the work of the devil!" Asad blurted out, his voice trembling.

Faisal stood slowly, his mind racing. He should have seen this coming. The rapid introduction of technology had been too much for some of the more superstitious villagers. To them, these new machines must have seemed like magic—or worse, dark sorcery.

Without wasting any more time, Faisal made his way to the square. As he approached, he could hear the angry voices, the rising murmurs of a crowd that had grown too scared to think rationally. In the middle of the square, some of the more outspoken villagers had gathered, their faces flushed with fear and anger. They pointed toward one of the windmills, its blades spinning steadily in the breeze.

"This is unnatural!" one of the older men shouted. "Machines that work by themselves? It's witchcraft! He's bringing evil to our village!"

Another voice rose from the crowd. "I saw water flow from the irrigation system without a single man touching it! That's not the work of God—it's the work of a devil!"

Faisal stopped at the edge of the square, his expression calm but his mind focused. This was dangerous. Fear could easily turn into violence if it wasn't handled properly.

He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the noise. "Enough."

The villagers turned to face him, and for a moment, the square went silent. Faisal could see the fear in their eyes, the way they looked at him as though he were something other than human. They didn't understand the technology, and that ignorance had twisted into something dangerous.

The old man who had spoken earlier pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You brought these unnatural things to our village! We know what you are, witch! We'll burn you and your machines before they bring more evil upon us!"

A ripple of agreement passed through the crowd, and Faisal knew he had to act quickly. If they became any more riled up, this could turn ugly.

"Burn me?" Faisal said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "Because I've given you tools to help you? Because I've made your lives better?"

"You've made the crops grow with magic!" a woman shouted. "And your machines work without men's hands! It's unnatural!"

Faisal stepped forward, his gaze hardening. "It's not magic. It's technology. Machines that run on principles of steam and energy—not sorcery."

The villagers murmured among themselves, uncertain. Some were beginning to look doubtful, but others were still unconvinced. Faisal knew he had to show them—make them understand.

"Do you want to see how these machines work?" he asked, his voice rising over the crowd. "Do you want to understand the limits of what I've created?"

The crowd hesitated. Some nodded, others remained quiet, but at least they weren't shouting anymore.

Faisal walked over to the windmill, placing his hand on one of the large wooden blades. "This machine doesn't run on magic. It uses the wind. When the wind blows, the blades spin, and inside, the gears turn to grind grain. That's all. It's a machine—a tool, no different from a plow or a hammer. Only more advanced."

He motioned toward the irrigation system. "And this? It's powered by steam. We burn wood, heat water, and the steam that rises turns the wheels that push water to your fields. There's no magic, no sorcery—just mechanics. Things that can be explained."

The villagers watched him closely, their fear starting to wane as his calm explanation sank in.

"It's the same principle that allows us to make your swords and shields," Faisal continued. "Only this time, we're using it to make your lives better. To grow more food, to give you more time to spend with your families, instead of spending hours gathering water or working the fields."

The crowd was quiet now, and Faisal could see the doubt in their eyes starting to fade.

"I've given you these machines because I want to help," he said, his voice firm but sincere. "Not to harm you. Not to bring evil into this village. If I had wanted to do that, I wouldn't be standing here explaining this to you."

An awkward silence hung over the square. Then, one of the younger men in the crowd, clearly embarrassed, stepped forward. "We… we didn't understand, my lord. We thought…"

Faisal gave a small nod, his expression softening slightly. "I understand your fear. But fear comes from not knowing. Now you know. These machines are not witchcraft. They're tools, just like any other. I'm here to help, not harm."

The old man who had started the accusations stepped forward, his face pale with embarrassment. "We apologize, my lord," he said quietly. "We… we didn't know what we were talking about."

Faisal studied him for a moment before nodding. "Apology accepted. But let this be a lesson—for all of us. Fear can make us blind to the truth. If you ever have questions, come to me. I'll show you how it works. There's no need to be afraid of what you don't understand."

The villagers slowly began to disperse, murmuring among themselves, and Faisal could feel the tension lifting. The moment had passed, and the danger was gone. But it had been close. Too close.

As Faisal walked back to the forge, his mind was racing. It had been a near disaster, but it had also been a valuable lesson. He couldn't push technology on these people too fast. If he wasn't careful, their fear would turn into something far worse. He needed to educate them, to make them understand that these advancements weren't a threat.

The British and Russians were still moving in the background, and soon the world would change in ways these villagers couldn't even imagine. But for now, Faisal had bought himself more time. He had won their trust again, but next time, the challenge might be greater.

As he entered the forge, Faisal smiled to himself. It was all part of the plan. The people would follow him, not just out of fear or awe, but because they believed in the future he was building for them.