Kingdom Of The Weak 89 Prospects

"You're sending me away?!" Mindy blurted.

"You could visit once in a while, take a weekend or so… Ashdale's airs.h.i.+ps are well-respected. Don't you think they have good airs.h.i.+ps and engineering methods? There's a lot to learn there, and no limit to learning." Remian pointed out. "Also, we bought a lot of good stuff last time."

"Right. Airs.h.i.+ps." Mindy calmed down.

"Not just Ashdale. Itarim, La Vive, Germat, Ceres, Ecclesia, even the Dragon Empire. You should travel to all of them and learn what you can." Remian went on. "You did say you wanted to see the world."

"Yes, I did…" Mindy said, but she hesitated.

"Not today, of course. Not without an airs.h.i.+p to rival the Roving Albatross, at least." Remian mentioned. "Actually, if we could put together something like that, you'd be able to start serious trade routes. An industrial grade long-range corvette should be your first step to an intercontinental trading fleet. That sort of expertise can't be learned from the Wildlands. Since we already have friends in Ashdale involved with airs.h.i.+ps, it only makes sense to start from there."

"If that's my first step, what's my second step?" Mindy asked.

"The next step up from an industrial-grade corvette… probably an industrial-grade frigate? Or a commercial-grade corvette?" Remian scratched his head. "I don't really know how expertise in airs.h.i.+p engineering scales up, but you should be able to figure it out along the way."

"And my long-term goal?" Mindy asked.

"What do you feel?" Remian asked right back.

"A military-grade mothers.h.i.+p!" Mindy exclaimed. "No, wait! A whole fleet of epic-grade airs.h.i.+ps, better than the Golden Fleet! Or… even… a Grand Fleet of legendary-grade airs.h.i.+ps!"

"Are there actually such grades…?" Remian blinked.

"Maybe not yet? But there will be, once I'm done!"

Remian had to allow her a wry smile for that. "Now you know where you're headed. What about now? Where are you currently at?"

Mindy's face fell. "One junk-grade Tier 3.6 skiff Gunboat. One junk-grade Tier 5.6 galleon Sky Barge. One patchwork-grade Tier 4.4 corvette Tug. There's a long, long way to go."

"Don't sell yourself short. Regardless of how bad they look, how short their range, or how they can't stand up to strong winds, they can still fly and they can still carry heavy weaponry."

"Talking about airs.h.i.+ps?" Tim joined them at the airport, wobbly but serious-faced.

"Yeah. How are the lynxmice doing?" Remian asked.

"You should know better than me. You're the one who can really communicate with them. Half the time I have to guess until I get it right." Tim grimaced. "I don't know why you put me in charge of them."

"Because the cook knows best how to make cheese?" Mindy suggested right off her top of her head.

"I'm more than just a cook!" Tim protested. "Also, I'm really not much use in spy-work. Just look at how easily I got captured! You're the one who should be commanding the lynxmice, not me!"

Remian fell silent for a bit. "Then, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know. Train with the legion? Become stronger? Be a great warrior?" Tim shuffled his feet. "Become a better adventurer? Learn rune-smithing? Construction? There's so many things I've never tried, and I won't know until I've actually tried them out. I might even want to try school."

Remian paused. "You want to go to Ashdale, like Mandy said?"

Tim grimaced. "Well… yeah."

Just like that, Mandy was going to cost him his spymaster? What had she been telling him?!

On second thoughts, Remian didn't want to know.

What next? If Mandy stayed around a bit longer, would George leave too?

Remian couldn't help feeling down about the whole thing. On the one hand, she might be right, these kids would get more prospects, more options from studying at Ashdale. But on the other hand, they had opportunities here that no school could give them, directly taking up roles that influenced the fate of entire clans, roles that could ensure their livelihoods and that of their descendents for generations to come…

But those roles would also deny them any chance of a normal childhood. Remian knew that, and thus, he was hesitant to try and hold on to them.

Maybe he was going about this all wrong. Perhaps he should be looking for adults to work with. But Remian had a soft spot for the kids who'd been with him from the start. He felt he could trust them, really, really trust them. Sometimes, working with adults was complicated. Like Phoebe, for example. Working with her was definitely complicated.

But those were Remian's personal issues. There was no reason to hold the children back because of his selfish feelings. If he were truly thinking of their best interests, it was right to let them explore. He should let them go. That was what he felt.

As for opportunities… there were entire clans of other people here who would leap for them. The Harvest Sun clan, the High Rock clan, the Encles clan… which of them didn't have numerous children who would do anything for the kind of opportunities Mindy, George and Tim had?

Maybe he should send them to Ashdale for schooling too? But if the Desert King found out about it, the war would begin at once. The clans were here to work and earn money that would be brought back to Fal'Herim once their jobs were done, right? Sending the children to Ashdale for schooling was a surefire sign that these clans were never intending to go back with their hard-earned money.

In other words, the future generations of those clans were reliant on whatever education they could get at the Frontier. If he was going go care about their needs and prospects (and he did), he was going to have to pay attention to that first.

But first… "George? Get over here."

George came over.

"Tim and Mindy are going to Ashdale for weekend visits to learn stuff and go shopping. What about you?"

"Why would they?" George was confused.

It took some explaining, after which George nodded. "Maybe one day, but right now I need to look after the farm. Everyone's counting on it."

"George, is farming what you really want to be doing? We have a whole clan taking care of that now." Remian hesitated. "You don't have to do it if you want to do something else."

"It was my idea in the first place, remember?" George asked. "All I ever wanted to do was provide for the people I care about. Gardening was how I started out. Now almost all the other kids have gone to Ashdale, but I have even more people to feed. The Harvest Sun clan, the High Rock clan, even the new Encles… they're all my people now, too."

Remian stared. His jaw had dropped open a couple of inches without him realizing it. "Do you really mean that?!"

"Well… yeah? They're staying here, they're building the town I live in, and I can count on them when things get rough…" George scratched his head. "If they're not my people, who are?"

Such a simple sentence, but Remian felt like his heart almost skipped a beat. Until this point, Mindy and Tim had all his attention, and George just happened to be there, but now…

"George, try to give more of the mundane work to the Harvest Sun clan. Come meet me every day. We should talk more. We should talk a lot more." Remian found himself saying.

"So… do you still want me to go to Ashdale?"

"If you like." Remian shrugged. "I might want to go sometimes too, but I'd rather plan my visits out more carefully. You can join me when I go."

"Sounds good." George shrugged, not quite realizing how his future prospects had completely changed in just one conversation.