"Have you ever ridden the tram?," she'd asked. He'd been sitting outside her office in the capitol, tapping his feet and waiting nervously for nearly half an hour. She looked different today, than she had before. Her hair was pulled up tight in a twist, with a single bang framing the right side of her face. She looked more serious, imposing, in her black Associate uniform. The single gauntlet and shoulder pauldron attached with black leather straps that cross her chest, protecting her left arm in it's entirety. Her sword was on her back.
"You're a bloody Paragon?!," he'd exclaimed.
She'd led him through the streets of the capitol Tyre for quite some time. Down streets where automobiles rumbled past on cobbled roads and energy platforms supported impossible structures. Eventually, they reached the station. The tram was a cable-car that ran from the city's center, to the top of the mountain, where the upper echelon of the capitol lived, on a jutting cliff that overshadowed much of the city beneath, so that for a majority of the day, it was cast in shadow. They didn't have to wait, going to the front of the line and catching the next tram up. Everyone looked at her in awe, in wonder. Perhaps even in fear. After all, she was a Paragon. It wasn't until the tram was moving that she started to speak.
"For an arcaeni to craft his magic, is not to just draw some energy from the world...but to understand the sensations beneath them. To feel them. The Association is full of arcaeni who have developed this understanding. We know when things are changing, and when things are out of whack. You know what I speak of," she said, demanding his attention. He glanced out the window of the tram, just as it began to crest the rooftops. In the distance, he could spot the still smoking ruins from yesterday's attack. The image of that monster, found dead in the ruins. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Aeryn could still feel the woman's gaze on him.
"That monster was...,"
"A symptom," she said, nodding. "A sign that things are wrong. The Association keeps things in order. You did that yesterday, where we failed. We want your help,"
"Making unequal things equal," he whispered.
"I'm sorry?" she asked, catching his attention once more. He looked up, smiling apologetically.
"Sorry, it was nothing. Just reminded me of a saying I once heard," he said. "Look, I told you yesterday. You've got me mixed up. I helped pull you from the wreckage, but I didn't slay any strange monster. I only came by because I thought you may have heard news," He'd yet to sleep, and this had been his last hope for the day. 'Where are you?' he thought, once more. The woman shook her head.
"No one matching that girl's description has been reported being found. If anything comes up, I will know, I promise. You never mentioned...who is this girl to you?," she asked.
"We don't know each other," he said. This elicited a raised eyebrow from the Paragon, but she said nothing of it.
"I'm sure she's fine," she said, trying to sound comforting. It was clear it was something she wasn't used to. Why was she trying so hard to be nice to him? Why did she think he was the person who had killed that...that thing? They rode in silence for the rest of the trip. It took them about half an hour to reach the top of the mountain cliff that overlooked the rest of the city. They stepped off onto the station, as eager passengers got on behind them. The streets here were wider, neater. There was hardly a bump on the well mortared road and the buildings all seemed larger. Mini-gardens floated around on hover platforms, offering the only true form of vegetation in this part of the city, next to the rooftop greenhouses and window gardens.
"Where are we going?," he asked. But just at that moment, a low, black automobile with tinted windows pulled up in front of them. Silver fittings and adornments decorated each of the handles and mirrors and around the oval headlights, cast in the shapes of wings and twisting designs. The Paragon held the door open.
"The Palace, of course," she said. His eyes widened, and he looked past the vehicle at the furthest building on the upper echelon. At the end of the wide street, littered with statues and grand fountains, was the largest building of all. The Palace of Tyr, which stood at the end of the great cliff and overlooked the rest of the city below it. He looked at her and she simply offered him a smile of assurance. He climbed into the car, sliding onto the dyed, black leather seats. She climbed in and sat across from him The vehicle started off smoothly, unlike the clunky automobiles he was used to riding in. She offered him a glass of water, from which she quickly dropped a few ice-cubes in. There was a whole cooler and drink system built into the inside of the vehicle, with an ice-machine.
"Water?," she asked. He took it eagerly, drinking it down in a hurried gulp. She must have noticed how parched his lips had become. When was the last time he'd had something to drink? Instantly the headache that he'd attributed to lack of sleep disappeared and he let out a refreshing sigh. She smiled. "Personally, I don't touch the stuff. I'm afraid it will become habit-forming," she jested.
"I don't understand. I told you I didn't slay any monster. What does the Emperor want with me?" he said, pouring himself another pitcher of water and drinking it.
"The monster was the only strange thing to happen yesterday," she said. His brow furrowed, and she continued. "All the registered gods in the vicinity at that time lost their powers,"
He paused. Her smile never faltered, and her eyes never left his. They were indigo. How had he not noticed that before? Indigo eyes...
"They...they lost their...umm...their powers?," Leaning in, she placed a hand on his knee, her smile widening.
"They became mortal," she said, grinning. Then she leaned back in her seat.
"You mean that monster was able to make gods mortal?!," he exclaimed. Not even the Association had been able to figure out a way to do that. Gods and godlings were a permanent part of the world now, albeit as second-class citizens. Most were no longer immortal, anyways. They only lived longer than humans. Afterall, today gods were usually half-breeds. After they'd been thrown down by the first Paragons, hundreds of years ago. But even modern half-breeds were really hard to kill. Paragons worked in teams of at least two, and often with a support group of arcaeni, to defeat a single god. Their weapons were designed specifically for dealing with them. And in the end, chopping off their heads was the only way to kill them. But a taskforce of a dozen Paragons and some additional arcaeni could take out a whole score of godbloods. It had happened, on multiple occasions. That's why this woman was met with so many looks of awe and fear. Not to mention the fact that she was the first female Paragon he'd ever seen. Yesterday she'd been an injured woman he'd pulled from the ruins of a building. Today, she was a godslayer.
"I never said it was the monster who did it," she said with a coy smile. Somehow he felt that she knew something he didn't. She had the look of a cat who had just spotted a mouse. Whatever was going on in her head, he doubted it meant good for him. In the back of his mind, he was trying to figure out what her game was. What theory had she concocted? And why did she think he'd slain that monster?
