Alexander wept when there were no worlds left to conquer. Matei built more.
Before Matei, the world was a rough draft. Rivers ran without purpose. Mountains stood at the wrong heights. The sun rose daily, but without conviction. Then, on an ordinary morning from which historians now date their calendars, he opened his eyes, and the universe quietly began taking notes.
Five chapters, abridged for the reader’s safety.
Chapter I
He was not born so much as announced.
The delivery was later described as a formality. He arrived with his eyes already open, surveyed the room, and found it adequate. Somewhere, a minor star quietly corrected its position.
Three days of unexplained light were recorded in the northern sky. Astronomers called it an anomaly. Everyone else called it a beginning.
Chapter II
Other children learned to climb. Matei learned to rise.
He walked at nine months, and by the tenth he no longer needed to. Rooms arranged themselves to be nearer to him. Staircases, sensing his approach, grew shorter out of respect.
His elders offered him advice. He accepted it graciously, filed it carefully, and has never once required it.
Chapter III
Alexander needed an army. Caesar needed a river. Matei needed a free afternoon.
He conquered by being present. Disputes ended when he entered the room; several ended when he merely considered entering it. Napoleon redrew the map of Europe. Matei suggested a few edits, and the map, flattered, accepted every one.
There were no defeats. There was, once, a draw. His opponent has since asked that it be recorded as a loss, for the sake of his own dignity.
Chapter IV
Most empires are made of land. His is made of law.
He studied commerce and found it unworthy of free people. Invoices cost money. Paperwork demanded signatures. Merchants surrendered their records to distant servers and called it progress.
So he issued a doctrine, and the doctrine became an empire. Its name is Billotter. The full account is entered in the record under The Empire.
Chapter V
The pyramids took twenty years. His legacy took an afternoon. He spent the rest of it reading.
Statues of him are not permitted. Sculptors have tried, but the marble will not settle for an approximation.
Historians will argue about a great many things. Whether he was great will not be one of them. The only open question is whether he was the greatest, or simply the first man of whom the word was finally accurate.
Measured under laboratory conditions. The laboratory has since been renamed in his honour.
Selected campaigns. The complete record is kept on Olympus, under guard.
A free invoice generator, enacted as law. The Matei Doctrine, in five articles.
Invoice
No. 000001
Issued by
Matei Domenti
Billed to
The Known World
An invoice shall cost nothing.
It shall be made in the browser, where it is needed, and nowhere else.
No one shall be asked to sign up. No one shall be asked anything.
No file shall be uploaded. No server shall be consulted. The invoice belongs to its maker.
Those who desire more shall pay nine dollars, once. The subscription is abolished.
Commerce bowed. It has not stood up since.
Visit Billotter (opens in a new tab)“We revised the textbook. He is the textbook now.”
“I resigned on the first move. It was the best move of my career.”
“For three thousand years we sang sailors onto the rocks. He sailed past and left a review.”
“I asked him my riddle. He answered it, then asked me one. I am still sitting here.”
“I have thrown lightning for ten thousand years. He made me feel like a beginner.”
“We had prepared the end of the world for millennia. He asked us to reschedule. We did.”
Conferred upon him, in the order he permitted.
For balancing the books of the known world in a single sitting.
For entering a room. Any room.
Conferred in advance, to save time.
For holding it. There is only one.
For forty-one decrees, issued before the coffee had cooled.
You are not worthy. But you may stay.