Kingdom Of The Weak 133 The Fate Of A Boy

"Friends? You enslave them with your bribes and you call them friends?!"

"It's not enslavement. We're really good friends!" Remian tried. "We treat them the same as our own people."

"Oh, really? So where are the houses you built to accommodate them? What are the opportunities and facilities they have to increase their abilities and their pay? Do they have voting rights? How many of them have leadership roles that directly decide the welfare of humans in your administration?"

"Uh…" Remian spluttered. "Is that why you attacked us? Wilds civil rights?"

"No. The reason the Beast Tide came calling was really a number, and it's the same for everyone who has come before, the same as it's always been. That number is ten thousand."

"What's that about?"

"Ten thousand dead." Doom told him grimly. "That is the number of Wilds you and your people have killed that we know of. This includes the Wilds of the Beast Waves, and the ones hunted in the fields for nothing more than their meat or furs, the ones killed by litter in the forests or by disease and pollution. Ten thousand dead is the number that triggers a Beast Tide; once you reach it, the Tide begins to gather. You hit that number weeks ago."

"When… when did the count begin?" Remian asked.

"Since the town was built."

"But… but I only arrived some months back! You can't blame me or my people for what our predecessors did!" Remian protested. "In fact, of the people who had been here before, most of them have already left!"

"You think your people refrain from harming Wilds?" Doom eyed him. "Then why did the numbers suddenly spike in the last ten weeks? The death tolls average per day have more than tripled!"

"That…" Remian trailed off. That really did sound likely. Everyone now had better weapons and better training and were much more capable of killing low Tier Wilds. "A lot of that could be self-defense! Especially against the Beast Waves! We had to defend ourselves!"

"A lot of that is also outright murder and banditry. Your people kill Wilds for their furs, and their meat. Not just for survival either; you do it even when you don't need to, for your own wealth and greed. Don't even try to deny it."

Remian didn't. How could he? Doom was right.

"You can talk about living in harmony with Wilds and drum up a good speech, and you might even fool some of the Lords, but the Kings don't care about what you say. They only look at the numbers." Doom informed him. "All the Wilds are watching you. The count has been reset, but even now, the numbers are rising as they always have. The next time they reach ten thousand, the Beast Tide will form again, and this time, I'm not sure I'm going to be the one commanding it."

"That would be bad." Darian reminded Remian.

"But… but the way it's set up, it's going to reach ten thousand again sooner or later anyway!" Remian protested. "Wilds still attack us randomly! Beast Waves could still strike! We still need to eat! We can't just…"

"Then prepare for another Beast Tide. When it happens is all up to you."

"Isn't there some way we can negotiate terms? Set a quota per year or something?" Remian tried.

"It's not up to me. The Council of Kings decides. I don't even have a say in that council. I might have the psionic power of a King, but I have no kingdom. I dwell directly in the shadow and rule of Kor'ag-dras and Mal'thor-dras. That's probably one of the reasons why they put up with me in the first place."

"What if I could speak to them?" Remian asked. "Is there a way I could address the council?"

"Even I can't do that!" Doom laughed. "You? You don't even have the qualifications to be a n.o.ble, much less address the Kings!"

"A n.o.ble? You mean, a Lord of the Wilds?" Remian asked. "So… it's a birthright? Only those born into certain bloodlines have any say?"

"It's not a birthright. It's about power. More specifically, psionic power." Doom told him. "Yours isn't strong enough to even qualify as a candidate for Lordship, much less win the Lordship of the fief you think you control."

"So… I need to be powerful enough to qualify as a n.o.ble… then I need to win the Lordship…"

"You, or your representative."

Remian raised his head. "Are you making an offer? Can you represent us?"

"Me?!" Doom laughed. "Forget it. I'm not going to risk my neck for your sakes."

Remian's face fell, but Darian tugged at his sleeve. "Vigil. We need Vigil."

"Vigil?" Remian stared. "Can he really do it?"

"Who's Vigil?" Doom asked.

"Shadowflash's son." Remian answered. "Is he considered a n.o.ble?"

"Not yet, I think. I would have sensed it if he had that kind of power. But if he's Shadowflash's son, then I believe he will, once he grows up."

"I'm not sure we can last that long." Remian grimaced. "What about the Eagle Lord? Can he do it?"

"Yes, actually, he can." Doom said.

But a shriek came down from the skies. [I will not! To speak for humans… that…]

Remian and Mindy chorused at the same time "…is beneath you."

"Deepsilver?" Mindy queried.

"Just how do you propose to get her out of the lake and all the way to the Council of Kings?"

"What about Spike, or DD, or Jujar?" Mindy asked.

"They can challenge for Lordship, but their powers are weak. Barely enough to qualify as n.o.bles." Doom shook his head.

"Well, then." Remian grimaced. "It looks like we'll need to make friends with another Lord or look for Shadowflash himself."

"That seems wise." Doom agreed.

Remian cleared his throat. "Meanwhile, I'd like my brother back, if you don't mind."

"I will of course, return him, yet I must ask if that's really what's best for him." Doom frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that he has a great deal of potential which he will likely never reach in your care." Doom told him. "If you left him with me, given his current level of psionic strength, by the time he reaches your age… qualifying as a n.o.ble is not out of the question."

"My parents are going to freak if I left him with you. He still has school and stuff." Remian grimaced.

"Is school really that important?" Mindy groaned, remembering Mandy.

"You are already learning engineering directly from Arnold. But Darian? What could he learn here other than fishing and mind-talking?"

Doom raised a hand, and a blade of light formed in it. Light covered his body like armor. "I could teach him to become a Psi-Knight. With n.o.ble-level powers, if he went to Ecclesia, he would be directly recruited into the Inner Sanctum if he were to join the Warriors of Light. With King-level powers, he'd likely become a Champion."

"I was thinking more along the lines of language and math."

"I'll teach him to read the entire Bible and journal his reading the way acolytes of the church do. I can easily teach him math and to do accounts. I'll even teach him to read old kryptos if he wants to learn it." Doom shrugged. "I'd be his own private tutor. You should understand how much better it is to be privately tutored than to go to a school."

Remian hesitated. Having an ex-priest, King-level, Beast-Tide-controlling dragon-friend like Doom as a private tutor did sound like a really special opportunity. Would Darian really be better off with him, after all?

"Not just yet. If he really wants to learn from you, he can come back later. But right now, I need to take him back to our family before my parents lose their minds." Remian decided.

"And how would I know that he'll be permitted to come back to me?" Doom asked. "That your protective parents would not seek to take him away from the Wildlands entirely, and hide him away the rest of his life?"

"That…" Remian didn't know how to answer. He could easily imagine that very scenario playing out exactly the way Doom described it.

"If I send him back with you, I'm going to ensure my own sort of insurance." Doom decided.

Remian gulped. "What do you have in mind?"

At that, Doom grinned, and Remian almost wished he hadn't asked.