189 Confrontations

It was Mindy, in the end, who finally settled down Sir Ivan's wife.

The conversation went on for a long time while Remian and Phoebe went off for lunch at the reservoir. They chowed down some of Song Chen's cousin's best dishes one after the other in a six course meal that had to be carted by the Song Family Restaurant waitresses all the way to the roof of Kara-Goth, but of course, seeing as it was for Remian and Phoebe, Song Chen's cousin was only too happy to oblige…

To cut a very long story short, Mindy ended up having to send everyone home, including Sir Ivan's entire household and Father Petrov, who seemed half-hearted about going back.

"It's such an interesting place, the Frontier…" he kept saying. "We should come back with a proper commission…"

Mindy wasn't sure what a 'proper commission' meant, but she decided that if she was going all the way to Ecclesia on an errand, she may as well pick up as many magi as she could there and bring them back to the Frontier… hopefully keeping them safe this time, no expeditions or anything. Kara-Goth could definitely use a few good, professional magi. They just had to keep the magi from going out there and getting themselves killed. At least not until they had the hang of how to survive.

Therefore, on condition that Father Petrov would speak to the college to recruit magi on their behalf, Mindy agreed to take the arduous trip all the way to Ecclesia and send these bereaved people home.

Remian and Phoebe saw them off from the reservoir benches.

"Are you…" Remian hesitated.

"What?" Phoebe prompted.

"Thinking of going with them?"

Phoebe blinked. "Why would I?"

"You wanted to continue your studies, didn't you? Life magic, medicine and even priestly duties." Remian thought back. "I remember you mentioned something like that, long ago."

"That?" Phoebe mused. "I'm sure I could be convinced to forego religious duties. It does sound rather boring, and I hate boring."

"But you do intend to further your studies, don't you?" Remian pointed out.

"Maybe." Phoebe said thoughtfully. "But you know, I'm already doing the work I wanted to do. This place has an endless line of slaves waiting to be freed. I think I could live out my lifetime here doing good work and never see the end of it. I have all the qualifications and skills I need for that already."

"Does that mean… you're staying here? For good?" Remian perked up.

"That depends..." Phoebe said slowly. "On what this place has to offer me."

At that, Remian froze. Flat out, visibly froze.

"Well?" Phoebe prodded.

"Um… I guess… you could run the hospital. Or maybe… Minister of Medical and Health Care?" Remian offered weakly. "You'd be in charge of all doctors and hospitals and such."

"Is that all? A job in a backwater Frontier town?" Phoebe raised an eyebrow.

"G-good salary, and… lots of vacation time, whenever you like… and… and…" Remian gulped, sweating. "Actually… um… maybe…"

Phoebe's eyes narrowed and she peered at him directly. "What about you, Remian? What do you want?"

"Me? I… we… that is…"

"Remian." Phoebe's voice was soft, now. "What do YOU want?"

Remian closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath. "Of course, I…"

A flicker of darkness drew his attention aside. Death was on his feet and began to pace up and down, to and fro, right behind Phoebe.

Remian bit his lip. "I don't even know how long I'm going to live."

"That's fine. Next time you die, I'll just bring you back again." Phoebe offered.

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"That's not…" Remian half-shook his head, then changed what he was going to say. "Not certain."

"Well, since you seem to be having trouble figuring things out, let me make it easier for you. The way I see it, I have two options." Phoebe told him. "Either I stay here, or I go to the warfront and help out as a medical officer in the war."

"No!" Remian jumped. "Don't join the war! It's dangerous! Stay here!"

"And what does this place have to offer that would be more important to me than saving many lives in the war?"

"Freeing slaves isn't enough?"

"Compared to saving lives? I'd say not. Come on, Remian, it's not hard to figure out. I want a personal reason."

"But.. but I…" Remian trailed off. "I can't promise anything. I can't say what the future holds, or how long I will last, or…"

"I didn't ask you about any of that. I only asked you one thing." Phoebe cut in.

Remian held his head in one hand. "And what was the question again?"

"The question was," Phoebe said patiently. "What do you want?"

Remian fell silent. "I want to live. Not just survive. Truly live."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "I can help you with that. I could be a part of that. If you want."

"I do want." Remian concluded simply.

"That's all I needed to hear." Phoebe said.

Remian was going to say something else, something in reply, but it was too late. Phoebe had already made her move, and Remian's lips were otherwise occupied.

***

At that time, someone finally got the hood off Wulfgar.

"Why… what… who…?!" Wulfgar shook his head. "Never mind! This time there's a real emergency! Talia's in trouble!"

It took roughly five minutes and thirty-two seconds for word to get to Remian.

"What happened to Talia?" Remian asked.

Three minutes and thirteen seconds passed before he could get a coherent answer.

"She was screaming for help in the communications crystal earlier. Wulfgar volunteered to take it to Remian, so the guy on duty passed it to him…"

"Where is she? What was she doing?"

"She was running a trade route to Itarim and helping out the Iron Legion."

"Wait. Is Itarim one of the nations caught up in the war? Is the Iron Legion involved?!"

"Probably."

"Doesn't that mean that… Talia's gotten herself involved in the war?!"

"Pretty much, yes."

"Using our Sky Galleon?"

"Yep."

"So… we've already become involved in the war over mana!?"

"Looks like it."

Remian let out a long, heartfelt groan.

***

At the time, Talia was crouching in the bushes, trying hard to make her way back toward the Itarim lines without being seen or raising too much noise.

She didn't quite make it.

"Halt! Who goes there!" an officer called out sharply.

Talia spun to find fifty crossbows aimed at her from covered locations all across the hillside.

"Uh… hi?" she waved. "Any chance you guys might be friendlies?"

"That depends! Who are you and what are you doing here?" the man asked.

Talia noticed the flag on his uniform. "La Vive…? We came from Itarim."

At least he wasn't from Germat. Those were the guys who shot the Sky Galleon down.

"Itarim…? It seems you're on the other side of this war." The officer said grimly. "Surrender, or die!"

"What…?" Talia's face fell. "Just how many sides does this war have?"

She wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. Whatever side whoever was on, as of now, Talia and the crew of the Sky Galleon were prisoners of war.