The wind gently pushes a variety of different food’s aromas towards the street I’m walking on. Each passing second I see a new kind of building under construction. I think about how each design was made by me, and I have the slight doubt that they might crumble one day. The large pillars of wood and stone reach into the sky, and the newer buildings don brick tiles to cover their outreached hands. The cobblestone road smacks my with each step, and I observe the apex of a hill on the outside of the village.
I turn around and survey the village. The large courthouse in the center shines as a beacon of what people consider an architectural renaissance. The columns and white paint make it resemble the purity the people hope will infect the land. I see the central part of the village has now become a variety of villas and houses that will someday be made into mansions.
The parts south of the court district are an assembly of older style architectures resembling log cabins. The slums were forming around newer factory like structures that my father had organized with old business leaders. The influx of cheap labor allows for quick expansion of services to the point that old money from other areas creates houses or investments in the region…
I notice the natural barriers of the village was a large crater like hill, but now the crater was filled to the brim with structures, and the trees had all been removed for building purposes...I start feeling anxiety swell to the forefront of my thoughts. The village was too large for 5 years...This much attention would no doubt cause nearby nations to take notes. I decide the meeting with my father will focus on these issues.
A small house made of wood and pariah glass material came into view underneath a waterfall about a mile outside of the village. I walk through the thinly populated forest to go through the routine of opening the door. The building has no windows and has a lock on the front. I open the lock by tracing the line of pins I had made inside of the mechanism. I hear a familiar click whenever I finish the symbol, and an older man opens the door.
The older man is Guaro. His drum of a belly had somehow expanded, and I say, “I see our Tauss gentleman is excited for more prospects as always? Glad to see you again Guaro.”
“Haha! Me a gentleman? Why never whenever I’m compared to someone such as yourself Nox.” Guaro says while bowing slightly.
As always the man’s deep voice let out whispers of flattery and nonsense. I walk past him and I see the gathering of chairs where several key members of the town sit. Over the last few years me and my father had slowly revealed that I’m the mastermind behind the technology boom in Tauss to just a few people.
Guaro, a man named Atticus Farlow, my father, and I all sat down in our respective seats before I stood up to begin the meeting as always.
“You all understand the changes in Tauss are profound and life altering?” I say as the group nods their heads.
“Let’s begin this meeting by first asking about how each of the businesses and districts are doing,” I say while handing the floor to Guaro.
“Why of course young Waulack! The court district has experienced two new arrivals this week. The Chapmans, and the Bernards. The Chapmans are a very wealthy family coming from Dureal. They own a large fishing company there that encompasses at least the majority of Baltora’s exports and internal fishing revenues. They have a modern fleet of ships numbering around two dozen, and they also have two factories that produce rope in sizable quantities, but it’s quality is dramatically lower than what we have here,” guaro says without pausing.
“Perfect! Make sure they feel welcome. Somehow I’ve already met their daughter Elizabeth, and they seem like nice people. Atticus what do we have on your side? “ I ask while throwing my arms up.
“The slums had 43 members move in this week. I’ve given them all the care package we provide to new families, and I am trying to gather enough taxes to make the school you were talking about. I’ll need your help on the specifics. The slums expanded to cover a larger area than the rest of the town combined this week, but they still have a slightly better standard of living?” he says while looking to me for confirmation.
I nod and he continues speaking, “Than they experienced in Baltora or Centra. So far we have a little over 6 slum members looking for work, ” the last part of his sentence is slightly muffled because he pulls out a piece of paper with bios on each of the people.
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“Perfect Atticus. I see you are as efficient as ever. Now Klay, how are the businesses doing? Oh Atticus we will meet at the courthouse tomorrow at 4. I will give you recommendations for jobs and positions for each of the men. Don’t force them into it, but make sure they have the options presented to them within a month, “ I say while directing my attention to Klay.
“Bu-but sir. I have a meeting with my daughter then. Could we possibly reschedule,” Atticus asks while holding himself in a slightly defensive position.
The newer members words immediately receive eyes filled with daggers. Guaro almost stands up, but I raise my hands towards them to calm them down.
“Atticus that sounds perfectly fine. I can manage 5:30. I plan on slowing down my time in my lab, so I can spend more time doing other things. Will that work Atticus?” I say while holding my hand out in a welcoming gesture to Atticus.
The other members reactions were somewhat reasonable based on some of the previous meetings where I demanded compliance. I was a little fanatical about improving the village, but now I am starting to feel better about everything.
“Thank you!” Atticus says while backing back into his seat.
“So what about the business district Klay?” I ask.
“We just opened the factory that builds boards, nails, and pariah glass. We need at least 500 workers within the next 3 months, and probably a large investment to keep the factory profitable in the near future, “ Klay says while slipping in suggestions.
“Use taxes. Growth trumps all other factors. After you guys see how successful the factory is at producing building materials I can guarantee you’ll agree it is the best way to organize things. We can then sell these products to the poor slum members who are desperate for housing. The central bank is what we will use to pay for newer housing. I want to start work on a housing project for immigrants and current slum members. Make the housing decent, and I want to use the old farmers to begin working. I want you to start a campaign to make construction and raising a family seem like manly things to do. People are new to it, and they’ll listen to whatever is the first thing they hear. Especially from you Klay.” I say while handing out several pieces of paper to Klay, Atticus, and Guaro.
“Guaro, handle the culture campaign. Klay you will help him, but I also want you to work on getting the right people to start building using that Blue print I gave you. Atticus, I want you to focus on organizing the central bank’s efforts. Make sure you give low interest loans to any families that seem like they will be able to pay them back. All of you, use your own judgement carrying out these tasks. Anybody have anything else they want to bring to the table?” I say while clasping my hands together.
“I believe Mr. Chapman would be a good potential member to add. He has a great influence over Baltora politics, and the potential to soothe the slight tension forming over how many of their citizens are moving to Tauss,” Guaro says while smiling broadly.
“I told you not to try and win my favor Guaro. I trust you enough already. Great suggestion though, everybody, always look for potential new candidates. Atticus has been invaluable when dealing with immigrants into our town. I will start work on seeing if he is a viable candidate for the council. I would like for you to help with this task Klay. Anything else?” I say while taking note of the suggestion on a piece of paper.
Everybody stands up with trained poise, and we all shake hands before leaving. Me and my dad walk away at the time, and he starts a conversation with me.
“I just don’t see how you do it son. It’s like you’ve got a grand plan and everything always falls into place. Where are all of these ideas coming from?” he asks while making it very noticeable that he isn’t questioning my motives.
“I just want to help people. I feel terrible when I see other people suffer. Nothing gets a man motivated like a grave mistake.” I reply honestly with sadness threading my words.
My father drops the subject, and we walk back towards the village.
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Please check out my other work "Schism." It will be a historical drama that focuses on characters. Imagine the first 7 chapters of this story. With no fantasy elements. PLEASE!XD
http://royalroadl.com/fiction/4950