15-15. A Different Perspective

Sara sat at the very back of the venue, too far away to see properly. The theater wasn’t equipped with the same magnification enchantments that made the Praesidium so special. Instead, she was expected to use tiny binoculars she’d been handed upon entry.

The building had some age about it, though. Called the Palais Garnier – which she heard as the Guard Palace. A useless translation, considering that, from the system’s translation, Garnier was a proper noun. When she’d asked the origin of the name, the attendant who’d sold her the ticket explained that it was an historical building named after its architect.

The woman had also told her – with some pride – that it had been built hundreds of years ago. Somehow, it had survived the world’s transformation when so many other buildings had not.

That spoke to the skill of the craftsmen who’d built it.

For her part, Sara couldn’t imagine how anything got done without the use of skills or magic. Those factors were so ingrained in her life that she had no idea how a civilization might rise without their benefit.

“I like your body art,” came a voice from beside her.

Sara glanced over to see a young man. By human standards, he was handsome enough. A bit large for her tastes, but he possessed a strong jaw, wide shoulders, and heavy hands. His blue eyes sparkled in the dim light of the theater.

“It’s not art,” she told him. “They’re scales.”

“Oh. I apologize,” he said with a slight accent. He didn’t sound like he was from Paris, but Sara lacked an ear for such things. “They are quite pretty, though.”

“Thank you,” she said, then turned back to watch the stage.

“Have you been here before?”

Sara wanted to let out a sigh, but she restrained the impulse. Mostly because she was trying to act her age, as Tura had often chided her to do. The old drake had also spent hours impressing upon her the need to put her best foot forward while on Earth. Or rather, she’d said, “Don’t you go embarrassing your mother among the primitives. She might forgive that, but I certainly won’t, girl.”

Then, she’d tried to hit Sara with her stick, but she was too slow. Did it matter that Tura had obviously held back? No. Sara had deluded herself into believing that she’d managed to outduel her auntie.

“No,” Sara answered the human. Then, adopting her stately voice, she went on, “I’m told this production is quite famous among the locals. I wanted to see if it lived up to what I’ve heard.”

“Oh, it will. The Phantom of the Opera was world famous before the world changed. Or that’s what my father said. I was born…after the apocalypse, so I wouldn’t know.”

“I see.”

After that, the man introduced himself – Jack Cavendish – but before he could get any further, the ethereal lights flickered, signaling the start of the show. Despite herself, Sara leaned forward in anticipation as the theater dimmed.

The story opened in a dark and dusty room hosting an auction – represented by primitive props – but soon burst into a violent crash of music that filled Sara with foreboding darkness. After that, she lost herself in the production, which was more impressive than she had been led to expect by the comparative weakness of the Entertainers. Not a one of them was above the ascendent tier, and most were still mortals. However, the way they moved and sang and presented themselves went deeper than any skill.

It was like seeing the nascent version of a masterpiece, and while a major piece was missing, it was still something special. At first, she was so taken with the tone of the production that she had trouble following the story itself. However, it wasn’t long before she was swept away by the romance, melodrama, and the themes of obsession, love, and isolation.

By the time the curtains drew closed, Sara felt like she’d lived the story herself.

She ignored Jack Cavendish’s attempts at conversation, instead wandering away in a daze that didn’t fade until she reached Rakhan’s home. There, she found a peculiar man waiting.

He was huge. Not like Birk or Mano were huge. He would’ve been a head shorter than either one of them, and probably a third lighter. However, the way he loomed over everything – like a mountain made of slabs of muscle – gave her a similar impression. He was also a demigod, which put him head-and-shoulders above most people she’d met on Earth.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I could ask you the same thing, little girl.”

“My name is Saraalinisia es Vyrin, favored daughter of Prosperity and ambassador to Earth from the Empire of Scale,” she announced. That last part wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t really false, either. Not until someone told her otherwise, at least.

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“That’s a mouthful,” the man responded. Then, he extended a meaty, callused hand. There was dirt beneath his fingernails. “I’m Solomon.”

Sara narrowed her eyes. “Solomon. That name sounds familiar.”

And it did, though Sara couldn’t recall where she’d heard it before.

He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “Don’t know why that might be. I’m just a porter.”

“A demigod porter.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Felt that, did ya?”

“Kind of hard not to. Who…wait. Solomon. Solomon Thorne?”

“That’s me.”

Sara let out a squeal. “Elijah told me all about you!” she exclaimed. Then, she launched into a rapid-fire recitation of the man’s feats. Elijah hadn’t been in that particular Primal Realm, so the information was second hand, but he’d still described it well enough that Sara wouldn’t soon forget.

“Ah, yeah. That happened a long time ago, though.”

“You’re famous!”

“Nah. Like I said, I’m just a porter,” he insisted, which was the most ridiculous claim she’d heard since arriving on Earth. “And I’m guessing you know Elijah, eh? I’ve been hired to help him carry a big cargo. You know where he is?”

“Who hired you? It was Atticus, wasn’t it?”

“Been working with that man for decades, now. Pays well and on time. Can’t ask for more.”

She put her hands on her hips. “And what do you do with all that money you earn?”

“Build my business. Support my family. Try to help the folks less fortunate. The normal stuff, I guess.”

“Ah.”

“And you?”

“What?”

“What do you do with your wealth?” he asked.

“How do you know I have any?”

“Don’t lie to me, little girl. I know rich when I see it. And unless I miss my guess, you’re a dragon. Which means you could buy this whole planet a thousand times over and not make a dent in your allowance.”

“That’s…that’s not true.”

“Ah, parents keep you on a tight leash?” he asked.

“I…I don’t like where this is going!” she exclaimed. “You said you were looking for Elijah, right? Well, he left a couple of days ago, heading that way. They were going to follow the river.”

“I see,” he said. “Well, suppose I’ll be on my way, then. And little girl?”

“I’m not little.”

“You are to me. I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got the bug, don’t you? The one where you’re going to solve all the world’s problems.”

She shrugged. “The ones that need solving.”

“Good. Don’t lose that. You remind me of my granddaughter. She’s been volunteering with the Hartwood Foundation back in Argos,” he explained. Then, he added, “Might want to start there. They do good work, for the most part.”

“Hmm. Maybe I will,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me more about it while we walk?”

“Eh?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“It’s dangerous out there. They weren’t hunting bunny rabbits.”

She smiled sweetly, then grabbed his hand. “I’m sure you’ll protect me. You’re a big, strong hero, right?”

Solomon looked like he wanted to argue, but then thought better of it. He sighed, “Fine. Do what I say, when I say. If I tell you to run, then –”

“Then I run. No arguments.”

He shook his head, but he didn’t complain. Instead, he set out through Paris, crossing the bridges and walking along the canals like he’d been there before. He probably had.

Meanwhile, Sara peppered him with as many questions as she could think of. Most concerned his exploits in the Primal Realm, but she also inquired after his family, his business, and his rise to demigod status.

He didn’t really like to talk about that last one, just saying that he kept his head down and worked through it. However, he was more than forthcoming about his family, which was absolutely enormous. He spoke of his brothers and sisters, his aunts and uncles, his many children and the gaggle of grandchildren that came next.

“Even got one great-grandson, though he’s barely bigger than my fist. Poor thing. He’ll take after his mother. Tiny little thing, she is. Shoulders narrower even than yours,” he explained. “Hope the Thorne genes turn out strong enough to counter the petiteness.”

All of that was a bit foreign to Sara. For dragons, appearance wasn’t really based on genetics. To an extent, it was, but there were so many other factors that children rarely took after their parents.

Sara was an exception.

Not only did she share her mother’s golden scales, but her prosperity attunement followed Kirlissa’s as well. Of course, Kirlissa’s dominant attunement hadn’t started out that way, while Sara’s had been there since she became self-aware.

That was the reason everyone expected great things from her. Kirlissa didn’t necessarily need a successor, but if Sara could one day take some of the load of managing the domain, then the transcendent dragon might be freed to turn her attention toward the ever-shifting front lines.

Everyone said that the war was going well, that they’d won great victories. But out of the other side of their mouths, those same people whispered that any war against the Ravener and his forces was unwinnable. The best the dragons – and all the rest of the powerful people across the multi-verse – could do was to hold the line.

Indefinitely.

Maybe a few extra transcendents could make the difference, though.

In any case, that, combined with the steady decline of all elder races, didn’t bode well for the future of the multi-verse. The only reason they hadn’t already lost was because of the World Tree and the system.

Sometimes, the battle seemed futile.

Mano would hate her for even thinking that.

And it would definitely elicit her mother’s disappointment.

However, Sara hadn’t forgotten her previous vow to address the issues on Earth. She was still working on a plan, but she was wholly committed to making a difference. She also wanted to help set Ironshore straight and work with Atticus on his new endeavor to expand trade to other worlds.

In short, she had a full schedule. Thankfully, her attunement, archetype, and education had prepared her for just such a job. Once she finished planning, the next step was to ask her mother for some leeway with her education. She even knew what argument she was going to make.

But until she returned to Esik, her plans were dead in the water.

In the interim, she needed to do everything she could to help Elijah. He acted as if what he did to Skahan hadn’t affected him, but she knew him better than to accept that. He was hurting, and it was her duty as his sister to do what she could to alleviate that burden.

So, she and Solomon left Paris behind. They made good time following the river, covering mile after mile until they saw something looming in the distance. It looked like a hill, but as they drew closer, they recognized it was something else entirely.

“Is that a beast?” she asked.

“Looks like it. Might strain a muscle trying to lift that one. Come along, little girl. It’s about that time.”

“What time?”

He chuckled. “Time to work, obviously. Why do you think we came all the way out here?”