15-12. Empathy
“Are you okay?” Elijah asked. When Sara didn’t answer him, he asked the question again.
Finally, she looked up from her hands and asked, “How does this happen?”
“What?” Elijah asked.
“That. Back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the langar where they’d served so many meals. Afterward, Elijah had spent a couple of hours in deep conversation with Rakhan, who’d informed him of a nearby opportunity that would assuredly suit his needs.
Once that was settled, he and Elijah caught up, with Rakhan recounting many of the hunts that had filled his years. He also revealed that he’d married and had children, though all three were away on their own endeavors. Finding themselves, Rakhan had called it, though he’d done so with a hint of bitterness that said he would have preferred if they’d stayed home.
The youngest was twenty-five years old, so their departure wasn’t a surprise. However, in his culture, extended families usually lived together. Especially sons, even after marriage. Meanwhile, daughters typically moved in with their husbands’ families. That they all wanted to explore the world and live their own lives had hit Rakhan particularly hard.
But there wasn’t much he could do about it. He loved his children, and he wanted them to live lives of freedom. Restricting them from leaving Paris didn’t work with that ideal.
In any case, he’d invited Elijah and Sara to stay the night in his home, which was only a couple of blocks from the langar. They had, of course, accepted his gesture of hospitality.
Or rather, Elijah had accepted on both of their behalf. Sara had remained silent throughout, only responding when asked a direct question. Even then, she restricted her answers to monosyllables unless absolutely necessary. It was obvious that something was on her mind, which was why Elijah had asked his question.
“It’s a community thing,” Elijah answered. “Rakhan is what is known as a Sikh. He worships a singular god, and he’s built his life around human equality, disciplined devotion, honest work, and service to others. I’m no expert, but –”
“No. I’m not asking about feeding the refugees. I’m asking about how so many were hungry in the first place,” she stated. “Who let this happen? Why hasn’t someone done something?”
“Rakhan is doing something,” he answered. “And you visited the Temple of Virtue in Argos, right? You saw the Hartwood Foundation workers. That’s what they do. They work to help people. Mostly, it’s feeding them or providing healing, but there are also hundreds of shelters where they provide housing.”
“What about the leaders? What about…I don’t know…”
To Elijah, the existence of a class of people who lived without their basic necessities seemed like an inevitability. Especially in the old world, where a combination of capitalistic greed, lack of infrastructure, and a dearth of empathy made it feel like a fact of life that could not truly be eradicated.
But on Esik, that wasn’t the case. There, no one went hungry. No one lacked a home. No one was forced to live without basic necessities. Certainly, their society was stratified, with dragons at the top and everyone else being degrees of lesser. However, draconic culture still dictated that everyone had what they needed.
Humanity had no such dictate.
“I wish I could say that it was a lack of resources,” Elijah said. “And maybe it is, to a certain extent. It’s been a while since the world transformed, but billions died. Most people here call it the apocalypse. What does that tell you?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“It should tell you that it was horrible,” Elijah stated. “We had magic and levels and all that, but there’s probably not a person on Earth who didn’t lose someone in the immediate aftermath. Families were torn apart, Sara. Imagine that. Suddenly living without your mother. Or without Birk or Tura. No academy. No friends. Just you against the world.
“That’s what a lot of these people faced. We survived. As a species, we made it. But it broke us,” Elijah explained. “Some worse than others, but nobody escaped unscarred. We’re still recovering. Psychologically. Culturally. Infrastructurally. Maybe we just can’t provide for everyone.”
“I don’t believe that,” Sara said.
Elijah sighed. “I don’t either. But here’s the other part – people are self-interested. Not selfish. There’s a difference.”
“What is it?”
“Self-interested means that they take care of themselves first, everyone else second. Sometimes a distant second. Selfish means they just don’t want anyone else to have what they do,” Elijah answered. “There are selfish, greedy people out there, too. Most of the ones in charge are like that.
“There was a religion before,” Elijah said. “I guess it still exists, even though I’m not sure exactly how that logic works.” He shook his head. “But there was a saying in their holy book. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God.”
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“What is a camel?”
“Beast of burden. It’s a big creature.”
“What is it supposed to mean?” she asked.
“That’s up for debate, I guess. But most people interpret it as meaning that rich people have a tendency to obsess over wealth. And in that religion, no one was supposed to put anything above God. The rich man would do that, and as such, he would never enter the Kingdom of God.”
“And that’s something they want?” she asked.
“It’s the reward for a life well-lived. Or for proper worship. But I’m not sure if that’s the whole meaning,” Elijah answered. “I think that to become rich, most people have to ignore everything but themselves. That means they turn a blind eye toward all the suffering they see. They turn a deaf ear toward the needs of those they deem lesser. You can’t be a good person and do that.”
“What about my mother?” she asked.
“Does she do that?”
Sara shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Do you think she’s a good person?”
“I…I don’t know. I don’t think most people consider transcendents good or bad. They just are.”
“What is your goal, Sara?”
“To get stronger.”
“Why?” he asked. “What do you want to be? What do you want to do? I guess what I’m asking is who are you now, and how do you want to grow?”
She looked away, but she didn’t immediately answer. Then, after a few moments, she said, “I want to stop that from happening.”
“What?”
“People going hungry. I want to stop them from starving. I want to help them succeed.”
“Then I suggest you spend some time with the Hartwood Foundation,” he advised. “But here’s another question for you. Can you help someone who doesn’t want help? Can you feed a man who doesn’t want what you’re trying to give him? Can you provide shelter to someone whose pride won’t let them accept it?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“This isn’t the Empire of Scale, Sara. Things are messy here. Change won’t happen in a day. You could take all the money your mother gave you…a fortune, probably. You could spend it feeding people. Or you could just hand it out. And you won’t solve the problem. Do you see why?”
She shook her head.
“It’s systemic. It might just be how humanity is built. I don’t know the answer.”
“I’ll figure it out,” she vowed.
“I hope you do. But in the meantime, go to bed,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. He stepped toward the door, but before he left, he turned back and added, “The fact that you’re asking these questions is a good sign. It means you care more than most. Now, you just need to work out the details.”
From the determined expression on her face, she intended to, and soon. Elijah hoped that she would, though he didn’t believe for a second that it would be easy. For all that humanity had made great advancements, they had yet to solve those kinds of problems. So much money and time had been invested in it, but through greed, human nature, or a host of other issues, they’d never managed to eradicate the issues.
Maybe a dragon could succeed where they’d failed, though.
It was with that thought that Elijah headed to the room he’d been given. The house wasn’t overly large, not considering the number of people it was expected to house. But with the children gone, there was plenty of space. Elijah had settled in the room shared by Rakhan’s sons.
The pair had gone off to be adventurers, but they’d left most of their childhood things behind. Old boardgames sat in the closet. Paintings of proud beasts decorated the walls. A handful of wooden and wide-bladed practice swords leaned against one corner, while a hand drum sat on a wooden dresser.
With the thick, hand-woven quilt on the bed and lived-in nature of the room, it felt cozier than anywhere Elijah had been in quite a while. An atmosphere of family hung in the air, though some of that had grown stale in the boys’ absence.
Elijah lay in the bed, leaving the quilt undisturbed, but he didn’t sleep. He hadn’t really thought about systemic issues for a long, long time. Not since he’d established the Hartwood Foundation. He still cared, but he’d gotten caught up in his own power, trusting that his money going toward the problem would be enough.
It plainly wasn’t.
Sure, they did a lot of good, but the problem was too big for the foundation. Maybe it was too big for him to solve.
If anyone could, it was Sara, though. She was a dragon and an Administrator. Finding solutions to those kinds of problems were supposed to be her specialty.
Thankfully, if everything went well with his hunt, Elijah would solve two problems at once. Not only would he get all the fat he needed to make as much soap as he wanted, but the animal would assuredly result in quite a lot of usable meat. That, and the fact that it was mad, was the only reason Rakhan had agreed to help.
Elijah remained awake until the first rays of dawn’s light slipped between the curtains to illuminate the room. He watched the dust motes dancing in that beam until he sensed Sara outside the door.
A tentative knock came a moment later, and Elijah gave her leave to enter.
“You didn’t sleep, did you?”
She shook her head.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“No. I’m still planning,” she answered. “I’ll talk about it once everything is ready.”
“Smart. Did you still want to come with me? It’ll be dangerous.”
With another shake of her head, she answered, “No. I want to stay here in the city so I can gather information. My place will never be out there. My battlefield is here.”
“Fair enough,” he said, swinging his feet off the bed. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen and see if Jasleen needs help.”
Sara agreed to do just that, disappearing down the hall and leaving Elijah to get ready for his hunt. He donned his armor with the quickness and precision of accustomed to battle, and soon enough, he was prepared. Still, he double-checked everything before stepping out of the bedroom and meeting Rakhan in the common area.
He too was arrayed for the hunt, wearing densely inscribed leather armor and carrying a massive spear. Of course, he still wore his dastaar, as dictated by his religion and culture.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Elijah nodded. “This beast deserves it, right?” he asked.
“It is mad and a danger to the entire region. If it targeted Paris, thousands would perish.”
“That’s a yes, then,” Elijah said.
Of course, Rakhan had never specified exactly what had driven the beast insane, largely because he had no way of knowing. However, the creature had destroyed a half-dozen river towns over the past few months – a marked change for the once territorial, but peaceful animal.
“Let’s go,” Elijah prompted. “Better to get it over with sooner rather than later.”
“I agree.”
With that, the two men left Rakhan’s home. They didn’t immediately go on the hunt, though. Instead, they headed toward the local hunter’s guild, where Rakhan gathered a dozen other hunters. In addition, he enlisted the help of a small army of men and women who would harvest the animal once dead.
After that, they set out from Paris and down the river.