14-49. Seven Courses
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
Elijah looked down at his outfit. It was clean, and it didn’t show any signs of wear. “What?”
“Nothing,” Sara said, the single word reply simultaneously oozing innocence and accusation.
“Damn.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You kind of did.”
“No – I like your…pajamas? They’re…uh…a bold choice.”
“They’re not pajamas,” Elijah insisted. Sure, his linen pants and loose shirt were meant to be comfortable, but they obviously weren’t sleepwear. “And wait. Do dragons even wear pajamas?”
His mind immediately leaped to an image of a cartoon dragon wearing one of those old-school sleep shirt-and-nightcap combination. It was a ridiculous image that elicited a slight chuckle.
“Sometimes,” Sara admitted. “And they look a lot like…that.”
Elijah shook his head. “Well, this is what I have.”
“You have that suit. That was kind of weird but cool.”
“It wasn’t weird! It’s a normal suit!”
She shrugged. “Maybe on Dirt.”
“Earth.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Earth is the name of the planet. And it’s the name of dirt, I guess,” Elijah muttered. Then, he tried to explain the difference between a proper noun and descriptive term. With a sigh, he ended it by saying, “It’s different is what I’m trying to get across. My planet is not named Dirt.”
“If you say so,” was her dubious response. “Anyway, let’s go.”
A cloud bloomed beneath her, showing that she possessed a similar relic to the one Tura had used to fly down to the jungle. Elijah would have preferred flying under his own power, but Sara insisted that he join her.
And increasingly, he found himself incapable of telling her no.
So, standing on the cloud, he and Sara rose above the canopy. However, they didn’t aim for the air lift, verifying that their destination wasn’t the Crown. Instead, they were headed toward the Reach.
Elijah had visited the lower city a few times over the past weeks, but never for long. His schedule was too busy, and by the time he completed his training, he was normally too exhausted to do much more than rest. But he had gotten a decent enough impression of the city.
They landed in one of the designated zones, joining the crowd of dragons, drakes, serpentors, and non-citizens as they flowed into the city proper. After having it pointed out, Elijah couldn’t help but notice the cutting glances elicited by his appearance.
But it wasn’t as if everyone else followed the same fashions. Their attire ran the gamut from elaborate and ostentatious to understated and simple. Materials varied. Some people wore tons of jewelry, while others eschewed it entirely. There were flowing robes and ornamented suits. Gowns and kilts and everything in between.
At least most of them wore shoes, though.
Elijah pushed those thoughts out of mind. He didn’t care what everyone else wore. He’d never put much stock in fitting in, and he didn’t intend to start now. With that in mind, he strode forth, his head held high as they entered the Reach.
The bones of the lower city were similar to what Elijah had seen in the Crown. A complex maze of bridges stretched from the bases of the city’s towers, crisscrossing above, below, and on the same plane. Between those towers were attached buildings, shifting the airy atmosphere of the Crown to the tangled hive of the Reach.
From an architectural standpoint, Elijah appreciated the Crown. But from a human perspective, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the controlled chaos of the lower city.
People were everywhere. Homes and shops stood side-by-side, with many occupying the same buildings, save on different levels. Some were as large as any structure on Earth, while others were no bigger than Tura’s hut. Someone had paid special attention to the incorporation of nature, with huge platforms devoted to containing whole ecosystems. Otherwise, trees and flowering bushes stood in the center of most bridges, forming a median for disparate flows of traffic.
Fluttering lights floated mid-air, casting everything in warm ambiance.
Then there were the smells. A noticeably reptilian scent hung over everything. Not unpleasant, but marking it as distinct. There were other aromas too. Cooking meat from street vendors and restaurants, perfume from the pedestrians, and the clean, crisp scent of ozone were among the most prominent. But there were other, more subtle smells mixed in, establishing a mingled marriage of aromas that remained wholly unique.
As he took in the sights and smells, Elijah acted the part of a tourist, and he wasn’t the only one. The upcoming Tournament of the First Fang had attracted many foreigners from other planets within the Empire of Scale. Most of them had clearly never visited Ashakar, and they were obviously impressed by what they saw.
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But that influx of visitors definitely crowded the city.
It took Elijah back to his youth, when he’d attended sporting events or concerts. When he’d stood shoulder-to-shoulder with thousands of others. Shifting that amount of traffic out of an arena was an exercise in claustrophobia. And the situation in Ashakar was little different, save that the crowd was comprised of the citizens of an empire of dragons.
So, as much as he enjoyed the trip through the city, Elijah found himself incredibly relieved when they finally reached their destination.
“The Aerie?” Elijah asked, reading the sign. It obviously wasn’t written in English. Instead, it was a single, logographic character that reminded Elijah of kanji. Though it was far too curvy to be a Chinese character. Thankfully, the system interpreted it for him, though Elijah felt that some of its meaning was lost in translation.
“The Aerie of Past Emperors and Future Prosperity,” Sara corrected. “It also hints at fate and fortune, with a reference to growing fat and happy with many viable offspring.”
“Uh…that’s a mouthful.”
“I’m not translating it completely. A lot of it is just feeling.”
“I’m just calling it the Aerie.”
“Most people do,” Sara said with a grin, clearly announcing that she was messing with him. “I mean, that is its full name. Well most of it, like I said. But nobody’s going to say that every time.”
“Good to know,” Elijah muttered. “It is a restaurant, right?”
“The best in the city!” she announced, grabbing his hand and dragging him ahead. “I got us a reservation.”
Elijah suspected that, given that she was the favored daughter of the planet’s ruler, Sara needed no such reservation. They would accommodate her one way or another. But it was nice to see that she’d made one anyway. It showed that she took the effects of her actions on other people into account.
He followed her up the steps and through the door. The second Elijah set foot inside the building, he felt a wave of calm wash over him. His every muscle relaxed, and he let out a long, slow breath.
“Nice, right?” Sara asked. “Those paintings? Made by a high deity Painter.”
Elijah could believe it. Even though the artwork lining the entry hall veered toward the abstract, even someone like him could see that they were masterpieces. Every stroke held a world of meaning, each one threatening to enrapture Elijah’s mind. If he looked too closely, he would be caught.
And he would love every second of his imprisonment.
Thankfully, Sara was there to pull him away, and it wasn’t long before they found themselves standing before a severe-looking drake who escorted them to a table in the corner. Tiny lights danced along the vaulted ceiling, and the room’s décor looked like it would’ve been at home during the French Renaissance. Though it still showed some draconic characteristics, chiefly the presence of heavy edges and a preference for gold and silver.
If the décor was any indication of the quality on offer, the food would certainly be terrific.
As it turned out, Elijah’s expectations were far too pedestrian. Because the meal was absolutely phenomenal.
The first course was called Breath of the Mountain, and as far as Elijah could tell, it consisted of smoked oysters covered in a black, salt-like mineral, with a dash of citrus flavor. It was served on a black shell, and when Elijah ate it, he felt like he’d been transported to an oceanic volcano. Heat from the magma. Abyssal cold from the depths.
It left him gasping for breath, which elicited a giggle from Sara before she said, “That’s what a high-deity Chef can do.”
“I need one back home,” he remarked, still feeling a little loopy from the experience. It was like he’d just tipped over the edge between drunkenness and sobriety, though without the negative effects.
“Good luck with that. High-level Chefs aren’t that common,” she explained.
“Huh. Why not?” he asked. As far as he knew, all it took for a crafter to level was constant work. It was slower, but it was a lot safer than leveling as a combatant.
“Everyone ages,” she answered before explaining that progression as a non-combatant wasn’t about opportunity, but about time. So long as they continued to do their job, they would keep gaining experience. However, the slow pace meant that they were in a constant race against their age. “Most of them count on tiering up, either through cultivation or levels, to give them a few more years to keep going.”
But that was just the ones that valued progression. Most people, be they combatants or non-combatants, eventually reached a stage where they were no longer driven to be the best. Instead, they shifted their focus to other pursuits. Family life was a big draw. Political power was another. Other people took up hobbies or causes. Still others focused on the accumulation of wealth. And there were an infinite number of other pursuits that had nothing to do with gaining levels or cultivation breakthroughs.
It was an interesting dichotomy that explained why there weren’t tons of transcendent non-combatants running around. Of course, Elijah had to believe that gaining the Legacy necessary to tier-up would prove to be a significant hurdle for everyone, but especially so for non-combatants. After all, they couldn’t just conquer a Primal Realm single-handedly.
When Elijah remarked as much, Sara just looked at him like he’d gone insane. “No combat class does that either,” she stated before pointing out how skewed Elijah’s perspective was.
He had no retort for that claim.
Thankfully, the next course soon arrived. It turned out to be a medley of herbs, greens, and mushrooms that made Elijah feel like he’d found a secluded meadow on an undiscovered world.
The third course was created around the filet of a flying fish, and the airy concoction left him with a falling sensation that felt like his first time riding a roller coaster. Then, as he ate a pear-flavored sorbet, Elijah felt like he was floating in a sensory deprivation chamber. It was the perfect follow-up to the adrenaline-soaked third course.
The fifth course was like being hit over the head with a club made of savagery, dominance, and power. According to the server, the nearly raw, exquisitely red meat had come from a scaled but deer-like animal native to a nearby moon. She called it the King of the Forest, and eating it felt like he was fighting a battle against a deific titan.
Elijah loved it.
The sixth course took Elijah back to comfort, and eating the smokey cave-cheese reminded him of sitting by the hearth on a snowy day. It was warmth wrapped in contentment, each bite blanketing him in cozy security.
The seventh course was like running into a wall.
Molten chocolate surrounded by a circle of burning fruits, it was called the Crown of Cinders. It was decadent and enlightening, casting his mind into a primordial, fight-or-flight response that got his heart racing. That clashed with the rich, luxurious taste in a constant war between flavor and feeling, with Elijah at the center, trying his best not to fall prey to either force.
By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweet-smelling sweat that somehow managed to leave him feeling cleaner than ever.
As the meal had gone on, conversation had waned, giving way to the avalanche of sensations that came with every bite. But now that it was finished, neither could contain their grins.
“Second best meal I’ve ever had,” Elijah said.
“Second?” she asked, still breathless.
He shrugged. “Yup.”
“What was better than this?”
“Well, it’s a tie.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There is never a better meal than the first one you experience after you’ve nearly starved to death,” Elijah said. He’d been down that road multiple times, and he knew that it could make even a bland meal taste like a banquet. “But this is close.”