Hunting Wolfe

Dinner

Above me, the dining area exudes the serene opulence of the night sky, floating in the boundless expanse of space. Dark mahogany columns stand tall like venerable trees, each one a quiet guardian topped with a golden coronet. Leaning over the ornate railing from the second floor—where mahogany meets gold—I catch the soft buzz of subdued conversations drifting upwards. The tables, dressed in pristine linens, are punctuated by napkins intricately folded into creatures from a dearly held Earth. A gentle glow spills from an ornate chandelier, its glass and gold performing a delicate ballet, while a plexiglass barrier nestles the universe, with countless stars gazing down upon us. Here, amidst the subtle flow of whispered exchanges, the clinking of silverware on plates, and the balletic movement of servers sweeping across the reflective marble floor, I am enveloped in a lavish cocoon, as if woven from the very essence of the stars. A barely noticeable jerk and then a steady hum vibrates through the floor.

"So," I say to Aceon, as the waiter sets a plate down in front of me. The filet mignon, a perfect sear on its crust, sits proudly next to the vibrant green beans, their color speaking of a freshness that's rare in the city, steam wafting in delicate swirls. The baked potato, modest in size, boasts a crisp skin that whispers promises of the soft, fluffy interior. The aromas wrap around me, a tantalizing question hanging silently in the air - when will I have the opportunity to each such food, again? "You were saying, earlier, about having some things to discuss."

A loud beep fills the air. "Attention passengers, we are now leaving Earth's moon's atmosphere. If you look out the starboard side, you can see the moon. Out the port side, you will be able to wave goodbye to Earth. We will be passing Mars on the port side, shortly. By tomorrow lunchtime, we will be arriving at the International Space Station, just past the planet Neptune. As always, I hope you enjoy your space cruise around the Milky Way." Another loud beep fills the air, and then silence.

"What do you want to do?" Aceon's knife glides smoothly through the T-bone steak, so large it claims almost the entire expanse of his dinner plate. Beside it, a secondary plate, an afterthought, cradles a modest serving of green beans and a solitary baked potato. The waiter arrives, a dance of professionalism in his step, and places a basket artfully woven from dark wood at the heart of the table. Its contents, nestled in a crisp white napkin like treasures, are revealed as he peels back the cloth – six dinner rolls, their crusts a perfect golden hue, emitting a warmth that beckons the senses.

I snag a roll and place it on my plate. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you want to continue the search for your brother or do you want to quit, as he suggested?" He brings a small piece of steak to his mouth and then chews.

"Of course I'm not going to quit." I hold my fork in my hand, momentarily forgetting my food. "Had I found the stone before we started our adventure, then maybe, but I doubt it even then. I have to find him. Wolfe is the only family I have left." Aceon lets out a grunt. "Blood family. I consider you and Kat to be my siblings as well."

Aceon reaches for a glass of brown liquid. "I get it, blood ties are strong."

"Is that alcohol?" I ask, cutting into my own steak.

"No, how could a drunkard protect you?" He pauses as he downs half of the glass, "Though, when your search is done, we will temporarily part ways, so I can spend several days in a drunken stupor. You are a maddening little sister."

I sigh. "I will never understand everyone's obsession with alcoholic drinks."

"I was only kidding. I'm not fond of the way alcohol makes people feel overly confident. I almost lost my left arm one time against a Dajanal because I thought I was tough enough to take it on by myself."