Dinner Conversation
Several hours later…
The tour of Hope was done.
And it hadn’t been the complete trainwreck that Finley had thought it would be considering how it had started out. Watching Declan destroy Rohannan had not been something Finley had ever had on his top ten wish list, but after seeing it happen he would put it near the very tippy top now.
Aquilan was the major reason for Rohannan’s “save”.
The Sun King had been nothing but gracious and warm the rest of the tour.
He might have outwardly equated what he had felt for the people who allegedly had killed his parents to what Rohannan felt for people of color and women, but they were not the same in Finley’s view.
Though he agreed with Aquilan that–other than apologizing–the only thing one could do was to try and be better.
To not allow one’s baser, darker, cruder instincts rule over one in the future.
He knew he had a ways to go himself on many fronts.
While what Declan had said to Rohannan was not forgotten, Aquilan did his best to make sure that the rest of the Separatists in Hope didn’t pay for their leader’s mistakes.
The Sun King oohed and ahhed over all the handicrafts, paying for several small trinkets for himself and Declan, even when they had been offered to him for free.
He’d exclaimed that they were much too precious not to pay for.
The craftsmanship and evident time and attention deserved to be rewarded.
And, of course, he had overpaid, which had many of the merchants smiling genuinely by the time he left their shops.
Aquilan had charmed the human crowd when he had eaten anything that had been handed to him before exclaiming its deliciousness or, at least, uniqueness.
Finley was rather reminded of those politicians that went to state fairs in the past and had eaten fried Twinkies with faux gusto.
But unlike those ham-fisted folks, Aquilan didn’t pretend he had been scarfing down fair food every day of his life.
He would try each treat with an open mind–and, hopefully–an iron stomach.
From caramel corn to sour pickles, he had a mouthful of each.
And, despite that terrible moment with the scared child that had started this whole mess, Aquilan had kneeled down near several children, smiling at them tenderly, and stroking the heads of those brave enough to toddle over to him.
By the end of the tour, he had charmed even the most dour Separatist and they had a following of smiling people who simply wanted to see what Aquilan would think next of their home, which he clearly was enjoying very much.
There was pride in their faces and awe in their voices.
Human culture being valued was not something that most Aravae showed openly.
“He can’t be that bad if he likes Emma’s pickles!” One plump woman had whispered to another. “They really are the best.”
“Do you think he’d tell me what he uses to make his hair look so gorgeous?” A teenage girl with rather limp curls giggled.
“It’s definitely not expired Pantene,” a third woman with tired eyes sighed.
“I remember seeing him ride into our city that first time,” a man who held a battered baseball cap in his hands said, his eyes haunted.
“Thought the night would never end and then… the whole place lit up like high noon. I dared look out our boarded up window and I saw him leading a whole host of those Protectors right down the middle of the street.”
“You’re not alone in that,” another middle-aged man remarked.
“We were cornered in an alleyway. My daughter and I.” His voice twisted with fear even at the memory.
“Those Leviathan were slithering towards us. I’ll never forget the sound they made.
Like dry leaves scrapping over concrete.
They were just five feet away. I put my arms around my girl.
Tried to protect her with my body somehow.
Like maybe they’d just take me and leave her alone.
But then the Sun King came. And his light burned them away.
Thought we’d died, to be honest. Thought we were in the afterlife when we saw him and his host of Protectors riding by. ”
Seeing these men still shake at the thought of the Leviathan–though they persisted in living in Hope instead of the much greater safety of the domes–made Finley sigh a bit.
He supposed that some would think them brave for acting on their principles.
But he just thought that many of them were too scared to let go of the past and change.
He understood why. Their world had been destroyed and while Finley found himself more enamoured with this new world, he understood desperately missing the old one.
But it was not coming back by living on a trash heap or holding onto ruins that they’d never live in again.
“King Aquilan was a godsend against those monsters, to be sure. Just not sure of the aftermath,” the first man said as he continued to fuss with his hat.
“It’s not him that’s the problem. It’s his brother,” an elderly woman spat, both literally and figuratively. “Now Vesslan can go back to the Lieran Plane and I wouldn’t be sorry to see the backside of him! Fast as fast can be.”
“Maybe now that King Aquilan is here things will get better,” a young girl suggested as she held a tattered doll to her chest and followed the Sun King’s progress with wide eyes.
Finley thought it was a win when there were only grumbles after that statement, but no one cursed Aquilan’s name or spoke of Aravae racists. At least, not loud enough for Finley to hear.
Knowing that they weren’t quite viewed as the “enemy” any longer or, at least, for the moment, Finley hadn’t been too alarmed when Rohannan had ushered them into a huge canvas tent that could have housed a circus. In fact, it likely had been a circus or festival tent of some kind.
People were milling around, getting food or drink, before sitting down at the multitude of wooden picnic tables that encircled a large stage in the very center where the music would likely be played.
Every table was filled to bursting. In truth, if they hadn’t been with Rohannan, Finley doubted that they would have gotten a seat at all.
And that would have been a shame. For while the music had not yet started, the barbecue was coming out fast and hot.
There were barbecued pork ribs, their flesh snappy and also a little crisped at the edges from the wood burning fires that raged outside of the tent.
There was brisket so tender it practically melted in Finley’s mouth.
Then there was the pulled pork that was sauced to perfection with pillowy brioche-type buns to pile it on.
Plus coleslaw, tangy and sweet, to top it with.
Not to mention corn on the cob still in their charred husks, grilled sweet peppers, scorched knob onions and skewered tomatoes whose flesh was blistered by the heat of the fires.
It all reminded Finley of barbeques at Declan’s house before the war.
Tyler Wilde had been a great cook. He remembered having ice cold Cokes in glass bottles brought out by Alexa.
The picnic table before them would be loaded with sides like mustard-based hot potato salad, ripe tomatoes in a tart vinaigrette, and skillet cornbread.
Sizzling t-bones would be cooking over hot coals, the hiss of their fat making the flames spit high up into the air while the Sun set and the churr of night insects began.
He looked down to the far end of the table where Aquilan was seated at the head with Declan on one side of him and Rohannan on the other with the Tweedledums clustered round. His best friend wasn’t eating much. He was on alert, Finley realized.
Protecting Aquilan against people who can only hurt his feelings.
Oh, Finley, while you will be far more powerful than other humans with The Dark Gift, the others have touches of it, too, the professor wheezed. And as more magic, in general, comes into this world, human magic will ignite in more and more of the populace.
Finley’s eyebrows rose. So they don’t need the book and dagger to perform magic?
No, no, death is a mortal’s constant companion.
But humans have been running from it for some time.
They have ignored the call and have lost their way, but they’ll see the power again, the professor answered.
But not like you, Finley. Believe me when I say that your like has only been seen once before.
Finley’s forehead furrowed. Really? Do you mean… Ipraxus Kane?
I do indeed! The professor chuckled.
Finley was about to ask the professor about the Necromancer Ipraxus Kane when Rhalyf spoke and distracted him.
“What do you suppose she’s saying to them that’s so funny?” Rhalyf’s gray eyes narrowed as he stared at his sister who was holding court at another of the picnic tables under the tent.
Haera had reappeared in the tent, but not alone.
She appeared to have already made some fast friends among the humans including, of all people, Cara Rohannan.
She had waved gaily to them, but had not joined their table, deciding instead to stay with her new found companions.
Finley had noted that Rhalyf’s lips had compressed when she’d stayed away even as he’d muttered, “Yes, yes, you stay over there, away from me, before you leave.”
“Can’t you use your magic to, ah, hear them, Rhalyf?” Finley asked. He couldn’t believe that such a small thing as a crowded tent and the murmurings of a few hundred humans could stop Rhalyf from eavesdropping.
“She has a shield up. Against me only. Everyone else nearby can hear her. Not that her shields could keep me from hearing her if I wanted to,” Rhalyf murmured, his eyes fixed on Haera who was standing at the head of the picnic table, one booted foot resting on her chair while she gesticulated wildly with a mug full of beer.
“Then why aren’t you?” Finley blinked.