Reay Jespersen

The wizard rushed along the hallway. Anyone in his way was forced aside by his considerable girth, often followed by admonishment, while sheer momentum kept him huffing forward. Razzle was never a man to be trifled with, everyone knew, much less when he was in a hurry.
The guards at the commander’s door crossed their halberds as he approached.
“What is the meaning of this?” Razzle asked the older guard, a slow-looking man named Feldman.
“Commander’s orders,” Feldman mumbled. “Everyone’s to be kept out.”
“And a fine job you’re doing,” Razzle assured him. “Well done in keeping everyone out. I, however, am clearly not everyone, am I? I am just someone.” He could see this got the tiny hamster in the tiny wheel in Feldman’s tiny brain going furiously. After a long moment, Feldman glanced at his partner and gave a quick, tight-lipped nod. The halberds uncrossed.
“Do keep up the excellent work,” Razzle patted Feldman’s shoulder on the way past as he turned the considerable doorknob and pushed through the heavy, metal-strapped wood door.
Commander Blackthorne looked up at the sound of the creaking door opening. He was seated at an oversized table with a large, detailed map of the continent spread before him, dozens of coloured pieces placed upon it. Ten-hour candles had burned out and been replaced again and again. Blackthorne looked even worse than he smelled. His planning for making war was taking its toll on him.
“My liege,” Razzle bowed as deeply as his girth would allow.
“Good evening, Razzle,” Blackthorne said wearily.
“Morning, sire.”
“Oh?” Blackthorne turned to the small window in the corner, now gaining detail in the dawn’s thin light.
“Sire, if I may?”
“Hmm?” Blackthorne turned back to him. “Oh, yes,” he gestured to continue.
“I believe that I have discovered a way for you to take over at least a portion of the world with nary an arrow fired nor man lost.”
The commander perked up, but then became typically suspicious. “Are you well? Have you hit your head?”
“Not at all, sire,” Razzle took tentative steps forward. “It is the portal you had asked me to work upon.”
“Portal?”
“A… time portal,” Razzle reminded him. “To seek out the result of pending battles.”
“Ah, yes,” Blackthorne finally remembered. “And? You have seen the result of the war?” He looked back at his map.
“Oh, much better than that, sire,” Razzle said, licking his lips. “Late last night I finally managed to get the spell to work, and cast my gaze into the future. I came here immediately to tell you that the road to victory lies not in war, but in…” he paused to dramatize the moment. “Apples.”
“Apples?” The commander echoed.
“Apples,” Razzle confirmed. “Granted, the visions were neither clear nor whole, but one thing I can tell you with absolute certainty is that in the future, millions of people the world over will own apples.”
“Millions do now, Razzle.”
“Ah, but something happens in the future. What, I cannot be sure, but it must be a fundamental change – a paradigm shift in their very nature – because apples are used, from what I can gather, as a form of entertainment, storage of information, creation, and communication.”
“I fear this… future-gazing… has left you senseless,” Blackthorne’s gaze returned to the map.
“Sire, I beseech you, heed my words. In this future, apples have become something entirely different than those we know. People are dedicated to them, to a stunning degree, despite the fact that they become extremely expensive. So much so, that as much as they may be desired, most people cannot afford them at all. It is only the relatively wealthy who can purchase them. And, oh, purchase them they do, sire. Again and again.” He could see he’d regained Blackthorne’s interest. “They have them in their homes, they purchase them for their children… they carry them around openly, speaking of them as an indication of loyalty, and as financial stature. To corner the world market in apples will mean to have power the likes of which the world has never seen.”
Now fully understanding Razzle’s proposal, the commander rose to his feet. “Are you suggesting I give up everything in light of this vision? Thousands of men are in the field as we speak,” he stabbed a finger at the map, “ready to lay siege at my notice. You would have me call them back and instead take up… agriculture?”
“I know what I saw, sire, and can only advise based upon that. Years of toil and strife and countless dead could be avoided completely, while giving you power and sway over a significant portion of the world. The choice, of course, is yours,” he bowed and stepped backward, finally turning and exiting.
The commander glared at his map.
How could any of what Razzle said be true?
And yet, he had seen the wizard’s work before. He knew the wonders that Razzle was capable of. The future had been seen; a future which could now be controlled by him with this new information.

The armies were recalled and put to use, the war machines disassembled and remade into more practical tools. Blackthorne oversaw everything. From his window high in the castle, he could look out and gloat over row after row of apple seeds as far as the eye could see; no mean feat.
He sat on his throne, fingers steepled in front of his face, with a glint in his eye and a dark smirk of certain victory. All he had to do now was wait for his world domination to come to fruition.