Chapter Eighty-Five: A Bit Of Busywork

Harold and Cristina were listening to a report of the output and available exports of the Athene lands, when a messenger came into the king's study in a hurry.

"Sir!" He said, gasping like he'd run from the entrance hall to the study, causing great alarm in the people present. "You have a visitor, sir."

"A visitor?" The king said, confused at the man's rush to deliver such a banal message. "Who is i-"

"HAROOOOOOOLD!" Tim yelled, swinging into the doorway with a giant, shit-eating grin on his face.

"Oh..." Harold said, his face falling into annoyance. "Wonderful."

"Hi Tim." Cristina said with a smile and a wave.

"Hey Crissy." Tim said, sidling up to the desk, and gently pushing the man who had been delivering the report out of the way.  "Sooo, how are things on your end?" He asked, like a pestering housewife.

"Fine." Harold said, holding in his desire to have the man removed. "A few issues with taking stock, since someone burned down the palace along with all the records. But we're getting there."

"Good, good. Now, see, I had an idea..."

"Please no."

"Nah, don't worry, I won't be handling anything."

"Then what are we even talking about?"

"Now hear me out." Tim paused, and looked Harold dead in the eyes. "How would you like to ensure, that in the future, your country can expand its usable land, without the need for another war?"

"...I feel like I'll regret this, but go on."

"Right, so you know Meg does magic, yeah?"

"I am aware."

"Well, she's looking into ways of increasing food production, and one way would be to make the desert farmable."

"And you'd like the cooperation of Spara as a country bordering the Northern deserts."

"Bingo."

"And how exactly would we be expected to help in this endeavour?"

"Well someone needs to provide the natural resources, and negotiate with the nomadic tribes of the region."

"The former would be a simple matter, should we have the resources necessary. As for the latter... What do you think, Cristina?"

The king turned his gaze to the princess, assessing how she reacted.

"Well, the nomadic tribes always suffer from a lack of amenities, along with constantly low supplies of food, water and medical goods that they have to trade for. We could offer them better rates on these items, and potential jobs for them once the project is completed."

"Hmm, not bad." The king said, seemingly satisfied with her answer.

"Alternatively..." She continued, still smiling. "We could supply them with narcotics as a medical cure, and once they are addicted, choke the supply so that they have no choice but to do as we say."

The two men stared at her, a little perturbed.

"You're a scary woman, Crissy."

"Thank you."

The two men glanced at each other silently, and came to a tacit agreement to ignore what had just happened.

"So anyway, someone'll be in touch in the future. I'll be sorting things out with a bunch of people, cause I won't know what I'm doing. Just keep a note of it somewhere."

"I tentatively look forward to hearing more about this."

Tim gave a thumbs up as he quickly left, on his way to visit someone else.

"...May I continue with the report now, Your Majesty?" Said the man who had been pushed to the side.

"Oh... Yes, of course."

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"EDGAR!"

"Oh, wonderful."

"Hey, that's what your dad said."

"Get to the point."

Edgar was working out of one of the other nobles' homes  while the palace was being rebuilt, and Tim burst in through the door while he was reading over regional reports.

"How rude." Tim said, with an exaggerated display of offense. "I just came to see how things were going."

"Well slowly, since you have a habit of sabotaging our efforts of reclaiming their knowledge."

"The palace fire wasn't my fault."

"I'm talking about when you snuck in and destroyed the remains of their chemical facilities."

"Oh, I don't know anything about that."

"Look me in the eye and say that again."

"I would never do such a thing."

"Liar. Even if you didn't want us having the poisonous stuff we could've used the explosives for other things."

"Yeah, but I don't which was which, and I wouldn't want to have to silence people afterwards, understand?"

"So you admit it then."

"Yeah, what're you going to do?"

Edgar said nothing, just sighed out of a tired exasperation, and shook his head.

"Things been okay then?" Tim asked. "No trouble with the locals?"

"No. They haven't tried anything, they're utterly terrified of you."

"Probably wise."

"Indeed."

"How's the fiancée?"

"Wouldn't know, we've never spoken."

"Wow, being a royal sucks."

"It does, it means I have to deal with you."

"Harsh."

"I have things to do Tim."

"Well if anything comes up, you know where I am."

"It would be hard for me to forget."

Tim turned away, and began to leave.

"Oh, Edgar?"

"What?"

"...Look out for your sister. She's a little... Intense."

"...I'll keep that in mind."

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Tim sat in the waiting room of a large, and grand building. Money changed hands here by the minute, enough in a day to wreak havoc on any province in the lands. This was the headquarters of the merchant's guild, located in the country of Massa. As the only country that had within its borders the homes of two gods, both the Goddess of the Moon and the Goddess of Life, plus the large harbor that served as the main source of fish, it was an ideal place to be.

After a while of waiting, a young woman opened the door to the waiting room, and then led Tim to an office upstairs. Inside was a primly dressed man sat at a desk, with a large stack of papers in front of him.

"Timori Ulcisca?" The man asked as Tim entered.

"That'd be me." Tim replied, seating himself opposite the man.

"I see..." The man looked Tim over for a second, with a mildly bemused smile. "Sorry it took so long to see you." He said after his visual evaluation. "We have a lot of records of you, and it makes for a long and interesting, if implausible, read."

"I bet." Tim said with a smirk. "Will you be requiring evidence of who I am?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary." The man said. "Your account clearly states that any person that should have no knowledge of this account from the guild, but knows of the account anyway, shall have full access to the account."

"Good."

"So, how may we help you today?"

"I'm here about an account that's tied to myself and another person through the magical resource institute in the Silver City."

"Ah yes..." The man shuffled through his papers for a moment, before pulling out the relevant material. "The account of Timori Ulcisca and Megaira Tasoula, that the one?"

"It is."

"And what would you like to do with this account?"

"I'd like to merge it into my own, so all the transactions go through mine."

"We will need a signature from the other party for this before we can proceed."

The man was about to continue, but stopped when Tim produced a letter and placed it on the desk. The man looked it over, and compared the signature at the bottom of the letter to the one registered with the account. Satisfied, he scribbled down a note, and turned back to Tim.

"That seems to check out, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes, actually." Tim smirked. "How would you like a little business proposition?"

"Well now..." The man said, with a smirk of his own. "That very much depends on the proposition, doesn't it?"

"Agreed. You see, the Miss Tasoula previously mentioned is a bit of a philanthropist, and is researching ways of improving the lives of others."

"How very lovely of her."

"Indeed, but she's only one woman, and once she has the theory in place, she's going to need help setting things up."

"That sounds like it would require some substantial investment."

"Quite, more than the magic institute would be willing to provide, I'm afraid. But once these systems and ideas are set up..."

"There's the possibility that they could be quite lucrative."

"My thoughts exactly."

The man leant back in his seat for a moment, fingertips together as he though to himself.

"I'm sure that you're aware..." He said. "That we can't fund an idea before we know what it is?"

"Of course." Tim said, waving his hand as if to brush the point aside. "All I'm asking, is that if you receive a request, you consider it seriously. She's a bit hard-headed, but not unreasonable. I'm sure she'd be willing to make a few concessions in order to realise her goals."

"I see... Well, if all you ask is that we look it over, I don't see why we can't."

"Of course, and if I give you permission to check my account and make offers of your own volition, now that we've merged the accounts you won't even have to wait to be asked, will you?"

"Why no, I suppose we won't."

The two men shared a laughter that seemed remarkably fake, before they went about concluding their business.

"One last thing." Tim said. "I believe there was a request made of you regarding farmers and dirt."

"Yes, that should be about finished now. I believe the delivery should be setting off soon. We like to do things all together, to save on transportation costs."

"How's about I pay for that while I'm here."

"Of course, let me write you a receipt." The man wrote out a notice on a piece of paper, and handed it to Tim. "Just hand that in downstairs and they'll give you a price."

"Much appreciated." Tim said, standing up, and shaking the man's hand. "We'll be in touch."

"I look forward to it."

Tim left the man, and went downstairs. Paying off the cost of the commission, he felt prompted to check how much money he actually had left, and realised he was getting close to running out.

'Good thing I've got connections.' He thought to himself. 'Hard to get funding when you're broke.'

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"Meg! Meg!"

"What?"

"Lookee what I got."

Meg sighed, and turned from her work to see what Tim was blabbering about.

"...It's a chair." She said, looking at the long fabric covered seat Tim was holding.

"It's got springs in it and it bounces." Tim said giddily, like an excited child. He dropped the chair onto the ground, and sat on it, bouncing up and down. "It's really comfy."

"Is this what you've been doing? Looking for weird new furniture?"

"No. I'll have you know I've been very busy."

"I'm sure, I haven't seen you since you made me sign that letter. What was that anyway?"

"Something that will make things easier for you in the future."

"For some reason I really don't like the sound of that."

"You worry too much."

"You don't worry enough."

"Whatever, I'm going to go make dinner."

"You do that."

Tim leapt from the top floor of the library, and Meg went back to her work. After a minute though, she stopped, and looked around. Checking to make sure that she was alone, she got up, and went over to the chair Tim had brought. After poking it a bit, she sat down, and began to bounce a little to see what it was like.

A snickering noise came from the balcony edge, and Meg looked over to see Tim peering up from the bottom. He was using his power to attach himself to it, so he didn't have to hold on and give himself away.

"FUCK OFF!" Meg yelled, as Tim's laughter echoed off the walls, and he scurried away.