Summoning Earth [Hiatus]

Chapter 38: The Cost of Survival

Morning – November 28, 1639 – Dubai, United Arab Emirates

The convoy of black SUVs roared out of the gated compound, their engines snarling like caged beasts, tires spitting sand as they tore into the desert heat. Dubai's skyline loomed ahead, a jagged mess of glass and steel stabbing the cloudless sky, each tower a slap in the face to Parpaldia's squat stone spires. Even from miles out, the city pulsed with a wild, untamed energy cranes swinging like skeletal arms, billboards flashing colors that hurt the eyes, the air thick with the stench of hot asphalt and burnt oil. To the delegation, it felt less like a city and more like a beast flexing its muscles, dwarfing Esthirant's faded glory.

Inside the lead SUV, the silence was a living thing, heavy with the sour tang of sweat and unspoken dread. The air conditioning blasted cold, a jarring contrast to the furnace outside, but it couldn't cool the tension knotting their stomachs. The hum of the engine smooth, relentless mocked the clatter of wyvern wings they'd left behind, a sound that once defined their power.

Kaios broke the hush, his voice rough, staring at the Burj Khalifa's spire piercing the haze like a spear. "They pile stone that high... for what? Not war, not magic just to strut like peacocks?"

Elto, hunched over his worn notebook, its edges frayed from Esthirant's frantic nights, squinted at the skyline's chaos. "It's not need," he muttered, voice hoarse from the dry air. "It's a flex. They bend the world to their whim, and we're gawking like peasants."

The SUV jolted over a seam in the highway, its surface so black and flawless it looked wet, reflecting the sun in blinding streaks. Traffic flowed like a choreographed dance sedans gliding silently, a flame-orange McLaren roaring past with a guttural snarl, its speed a taunt to nature itself. The noise wasn't the chaotic din of Parpaldian markets but a curated roar, as if the city engineered every sound to impress.

Remille shifted in her seat, arms crossed like a shield against the desert sprawl's alien press. The specter of losing Altaras's gem mines the lifeblood of her family's legacy clawed at her resolve, a bitter echo of reforms she'd championed and lost to noble indifference. Yet here, amid Dubai's flawless sprawl, her voice cracked with unwilling awe. "Their roads eclipse our palaces. Forged without the chains that still bind us, it seems."

Kaios let out a dry, bitter laugh. "At least their machines don't crap on the streets like our wyverns. Progress, they call it."

Elto's eyes tracked a passing Rolls-Royce, its chrome badge glinting like a noble crest, then a BMW with a logo that meant nothing to him. "Back home, we count wealth in land, ships, Altaras's gems," he said, his tone low, almost mournful. "Here, it's these metal beasts. They've traded our treasures for toys."

The convoy passed billboards that assaulted the senses watches ticking with hypnotic precision, perfumes promising seduction, banks flaunting wealth, universities flaunting knowledge all branded with names like Emirates, Samsung, Aramco, seared into their minds like brands. Each sign was a lesson in a language Parpaldia couldn't speak, a reminder of their obsolescence.

We came to negotiate, Elto thought, his gut twisting. Now we're students in their school.

The convoy veered toward Dubai International Airport, a sprawling beast of glass and steel that swallowed their confidence whole. The terminal wasn't a building it was a living thing, its ceilings channeling sunlight onto floors so polished they mirrored the delegation's stunned faces. Thousands moved like ants, guided by signs in English, Arabic, and scripts they couldn't read, no guards barking orders, just a system that hummed with eerie efficiency.

Inside a private wing, every detail felt orchestrated yet effortless gates parting at a facial scan, no parchment seals or imperial heraldry needed. The machines knew them, rendering their authority a relic. Kaios leaned toward Elto, his whisper rough with awe. "A border with no swords. Power without fists."