100 A Day at the Frontier

The next morning, Phoebe found Remian outside the Guild Hall, throwing up into a ditch.

"Are you pregnant?" she asked, politely.

"You do know I'm a guy, right?" Remian asked dryly.

"You're also a mage. You never know, with mages." Phoebe mused.

Remian snorted a short laugh, then gave her his hand. She placed her hand on his wrist; yellow light glowed on her fingertips for a few moments.

"Your condition's deteriorated since last week." Phoebe mentioned. "Have you been eating the herbs I prescribed?"

"I think so." Remian mentioned.

"We might want to look for something stronger, then." Phoebe thought for a bit. "We'll have to look into the rare and restricted section. It could get expensive."

"I'm going to have to sell an airship or two just to rush build the town, Phoebe. Isn't there some cheaper solution?" he asked.

"Well, I've heard about a few powerful herbs and fruits out in the Wildlands. The golden speckled tangerine, the purple-white vine pearl, wild spirit ginseng… or maybe we could just toss patent rights out the window and farm spirit ginseng from black market specimens on the sly." Phoebe figured. "Or maybe buy the license for farming them?"

"How long would they take to be ready if we farmed them?" Remian asked.

"Seven years, for the quality you want. I could accelerate their growth with life magic, harvest them in half that time." Phoebe mentioned. "Given the amount of people we need to emancipate here, we'll probably still be around. Meanwhile, I'll give you a list of the other herbs and such. Maybe some adventurers might get lucky and find some."

***

Later, George arrived for breakfast with Remian. Remian put down the earth magic book he'd been reading and sat down to some beef bacon and bread.

"George," Remian began. "If you were in charge of Frontier Town, how would you make things better?"

"Frontier town?" George frowned. "There's too many things we need that we can't get here. But you're handling that, aren't you? You're looking for potters and carpenters and such."

"Basic industries, yes. You're still thinking about people's needs, then?"

"That's important, isn't it?" George mentioned. "I didn't see any plans for glass-makers, though. There's plenty of sand in the desert, you know. We could start a really huge glass industry."

"Especially since we now have thousands of Sand People looking to settle here." Remian agreed. "I'd also like you to think about the next step, what the economy of a city here could look like, how the people here should live."

"Eh?" George blinked. "I thought you just wanted to talk to me about the farm. I thought about it for so long, and now…"

"You did? So tell me, what did you have in mind?" Remian asked.

"We could do a lot more if we had the help of the lynxmice. Boars can do heavy work and wolfcats are good at digging, but when it comes to handling smaller jobs, smaller paws are best. Plus, they can help with wood processing. I heard Tim mention that there were too many lynxmice to hande, so…"

"You'll have them." Remian agreed easily.

"With these many people to feed, we won't produce enough food for export for a long, long time. We'll even have to import for some time." George calculated. "We'll need to quadruple the size of the farm just to keep up with the new people."

"Just keep growing the farm. The bigger the better. No limits." Remian said. "We're going to need more and more people as time goes by, and if we have surplus, we can store or sell it. We can never have too much food. Also, we'll need to cultivate hardwood trees."

"The forests aren't enough?" George asked.

"Not for long. In one generation, all of it could be wiped out." Remian mentioned. "A few industrious mages and an airship could clear it all in a few years."

"But… the Wilds…!" George hesitated. "Lydia mentioned something about finding rare, wild herbs in wilderness like ours. She warned me against expanding the farm too much and destroying irreplaceable living treasures…"

"George, what's your opinion on healthcare? For a town, or a city, or a whole country? How important is it, compared to civic order, to finance, or industry, or scientific development?"

George had a really, really blur look on his face. "Uh… it's important, I guess? But a good country needs all of those things, right?"

"We don't. We have almost none of those things, yet we survive." Remian pointed out.

"But… but we'll have those one day, right? When we grow big enough, strong enough…"

"Will we? When? When Frontier Town grows to the same size as it was before I arrived? When it's ten times bigger? Would the size matter?"

"I think it matters, a bit." George hesitated. "But maybe… someone needs to make sure it happens."

"And who's going to do it?"

"You?" George guessed.

Remian snorted. "I was thinking it should be you."

"Me?!" George gasped. "But… I'm just a kid! I don't know anything! I can't afford all that!"

"You'll grow up, and you have time to learn." Remian shrugged. "All of these could take dozens of years, whole generations, more time than I alone will have. Don't worry about affording it now, I'll have to explain and teach you about wealth and finance first. We'll get to that one day. The important thing is, whether you have the heart for it. A heart for the people living here. I think you do."

"But… but why me? There's Tim, and Mindy, and… and Asda! Surely Asda is a much better choice!" George spluttered. "She's already royalty and I'm sure she's been learning about these things since young!"

"I want someone I can trust. Truly, completely trust." Remian said. "Asda may come with learning, but she's also learned things that I'd rather not spread. She's grown up in a fiercely competitive background, full of deceit and scheming. No, I'd rather trust an honest farmboy with a big heart. Tim and Mindy would help, of course, but I think you're the one who should be at the center of it all."

"But… but isn't it you in charge?" George went on. "You're practically the king around here already. Shouldn't your children be the ones who take over after you?"

"What children? Where?" Remian glanced around. "I don't see them anywhere. How long would it take for me to find a good wife, to marry and have children, and then raise and teach them? Even if I rushed things now…"

He trailed off. George likewise kept silent. At length, Remian shook his head. "I don't have much time. You're it, George. You have to tell me if you want out, because otherwise, my successor is you. If I have to find and raise someone else, it's going to be a lot harder, so tell me now."

"I'm really your best choice?" George asked.

"By a very long shot." Remian said. "It was either you, Tim, or Mindy, and neither of the other two want to stay. They both want to travel everywhere and find themselves or some such. You're the one who cares about the people here. If you were me, who would you pick to teach?"

"I'd look for even younger children, teach them from even younger ages. After twenty years…"

"Ah, but I don't have twenty years. I have five." Remian stretched.

"Wait. What?!" George stared. "What are you saying?"

"Ask Phoebe." Remian waved dismissively.

"Are you serious?! You're dying?" George gasped. "And you're just going to let it happen? We can't just sit back and let you die! We have to do something!"

"Oh, about that… Phoebe mentioned some sort of powerful herbs that might help… 'wild spirit ginseng' or something. We might look into getting a license to farm those." Remian said. "Plus, there are other herbs that can be found in the Wildlands. I'll post those on the Guild Board."

"Well, then, you're not dying! I'm going to farm those herbs, and you're going to be cured!" George said decisively. "So quit talking about not having much time!"

"That might help." Remian paused. "But we're still in the Wildlands, and any of us can die at any time. I almost died when the tunnels collapsed on me. What would have happened here if I had? To the clans, and the town, and the farm, and everything? I think it's best to make it clear who my lieutenants are and who's in charge if anything ever happens to me."

"Fine. But you can't die. I won't let you." George said fiercely.

***

Afterward, they went to check on the FDF and see how the latest Beast Wave had fared.

"Thirty Wilds attacked, a mix of Tier 3's and 4's. We stopped them at Kara-Goth." Markus said. "Shot at them from both mines and from across the Pit. There were engagements around the edges of the Pit, but casualties are light. Several injuries, two of them serious, but no deaths."

"I'd hate to jinx it, but I have to say, it was almost too easy." Song Chen commented. "Those Wilds weren't much of a threat to an organized, well-equipped force like ours. Between the clans, the FDF and the Legion, we had them outnumbered them ten to one, surrounded and caught in a crossfire from the very start. It was a rather sad end for the legendary Beast Waves."

"A rather sad end…?" Remian repeated. "What makes you think they're over?"

"Well, the Wave Callers came from Fal'Herim, right? The Desert King was behind the whole thing. Now that he's dead and Fal'Herim has fallen, they should stop, right?" Song Chen paused. "Or do you think the Crown Prince will continue the Wave Calls? Does he even know how? And why would they even do such a thing?"

"That is an excellent question." Remian said. "Whether or not they're indeed the ones responsible, and most important of all, why?"