The ballroom queue moved quickly, so quickly that we were ushered inside before I even had a chance to properly study the paintings lining the hallway.
Passing through the narrow entrance hall illuminated by flickering orange flames, we stepped into an opulent, vast space that felt like another dimension entirely--calling this place a hall would be a gross understatement.
The ceiling towered about seven stories high, adorned with frescoes and reliefs that exuded a solemn atmosphere. Though the distance made it impossible to discern their themes, the frescoes still hinted at something grand. Meanwhile, intricate flowing lines carved into the massive stone columns resembled some kind of living vine, entangled and intertwined, showcasing the beauty of the craftsmanship as they stretched from the floor up to the ceiling.
At the center of the ceiling was a giant, inverted tree, with the world-famous Tarnów Crystal embedded in the heart of its canopy. The massive, transparent crystal boasted an uncountable number of tiny facets, casting light onto the prism assemblies that formed the tree's leaves, filling the entire hall with a soft, warm yellow glow.
I blinked, tearing my gaze away from the dazzling light. I had read about it before--Tarnów Crystal was a marvel of science and art, a masterpiece that no one had ever been able to replicate. And it was said that if you stared directly into the crystal's light, you might see something... staring back.
The mezzanine level's protruding balconies resembled hidden caves, clearly reserved for the most distinguished guests, offering them a secluded space to engage in transactions and negotiations befitting their status.
As for the floor beneath our feet, it was no less impressive than the rest of the structure.
It was an enormous mandala made of fine marble sand in the seven distinct faction colors, fixed in place by a transparent polymer material. The seven colors swirled around the outer edge, forming a chaotic ring, followed by parallel lines radiating out from the center, evenly spaced and aligned. However, once within the projection of the massive tree's canopy, the lines twisted and spiraled like a vortex, converging toward the center.
At the vortex's heart was the emblem of the imperial flagship--the Emperor--of the Great Gray Wolf House, encircled by nine other emblems, each representing the flagship of one of the nine major families.
The Hadrian's Wall structure was mostly underground, and I had seen large facilities before, but this was... astonishing.
"The Mottle faction claims that the ballroom of the Colosseo is one of their finest achievements, and that naming it in any way would diminish its value," Aether said, surveying the space. "But most people just call it the 'Tree Hall.'"
I think the reason was obvious.
I spent a bit more time marveling at this masterpiece, feeling a twinge of envy for the hands and minds capable of creating such beauty. I couldn't help but wonder what it would look like if Snow had designed it--perhaps a throne made from the weapons of defeated enemies?
Even Momus had fallen silent, his eyes wide as he stared at the crystal embedded in the great tree.
Suddenly, a furious barking broke through all the hushed conversations and soft music. Many wolves--and other canines--in the hall perked up an ear, looking toward a particular balcony on the second floor.
After a brief but intense argument, followed by the sounds of objects clattering and glass shattering, a predominantly black and brown canine, dressed in a perfectly tailored black mandarin-collar suit, stormed out of the hall with an expression of utter displeasure. He bared his teeth at anyone who dared to get in his way.
Two other canines, dressed similarly and of the same breed, hurried after him with lowered ears and tucked tails, constantly apologizing to everyone they passed. As they brushed past us, I noticed that each of them wore a small rectangular badge on their collars, featuring vertical black, red, and yellow stripes.
As I watched the three canines leave the hall, countless questions swirled in my mind, including curiosity about the unfamiliar style of their suits. Before I could ask Aether, a loud, smug laugh drew my attention--and it made my fur stand on end.
Coming from the same direction as the brown-furred canines, a very tall canine slowly approached, casting a disdainful gaze at everyone who met his eyes.
He was... shining. His golden-yellow fur looked as though it had been meticulously groomed, soft and radiant, gleaming with both luster and resilience. But his ears... It was the first time I had ever seen floppy ears on a canine--so, this was a dog?
His dark gray suit was of a style occasionally seen in the Senate, different from the mandarin-collar suits of the previous three. The golden dog also wore a deep blue tie, secured with a gold tie clip, and a light blue pocket square that shimmered with the sheen of silk. Although he, too, wore a rectangular badge on his collar, the design differed from that of the three canines earlier--one side featured narrow red and white stripes, while the other displayed a white star on a blue field.
Only after these canines had left the hall did the conversations and music gradually resume.
"Who was that?" I was certain that the murmurs around us were asking the same question, but I preferred to find a reliable source of information.
"The three German Shepherds were the Archduke of Germany, the Marquess of Berlin, and the Count of Brandenburg," Aether explained, immediately understanding from my gaze that this information meant little to me. "Father and sons," he added. "The head of the German house rules the Grand Duchy of Germany, which includes most of Western and Southern Europe, as well as Greenland."
"I paid attention in geography class," I muttered. "And the other one... the floppy-eared dog?" I shuddered at the thought.
"A Golden Retriever, one of the floppy-eared dogs--there are many of them," Aether said, as if it were no big deal. "The Archduke of Golden isn't known for being easy to get along with, and he's been eyeing the Grand Duchy of Germany's Greenland for some time." Aether scanned the hall, then pointed to one of the mezzanine balconies. "It's said that the current Archduke of Australia once got into a huge fight with the then-newly crowned Archduke of Golden here in the Tree Hall, many years ago."
I glanced at a few maned wolves on the upper levels, their faces serious as they looked toward the entrance, whispering among themselves.
"So, is it territorial tension?" I asked Aether, noticing the subtle stiffness in the black wolf's posture and how he quickly averted his gaze.
"Oh, I know this one!" Momus piped up, seeming pleased to have a chance to join the conversation. " Sixteen years ago, the Archduke of Germany and the Archduke of Golden had a--"
"Momus!" Aether barked in a tone I hadn't expected him to use, and the young wolf immediately fell silent, his ears drooping as he whimpered softly.
"Uh..." I was startled too, unsure what had just happened, but I tried to ease the tension. "It looks like there's a refreshment table over there." I gestured toward the long table near the band.
I didn't actually want anything to drink, so I simply circled the table a few times, studying the various drinks and snacks.
I noticed Aether had moved to the opposite end of the table, away from me, where he grabbed Momus by the scruff of the neck, bringing his muzzle close to the young wolf's ear, whispering something with a serious expression.
Well, I can only say that socializing is a challenging endeavor. Is it because I don't understand all the subtle cues or changes in atmosphere that I keep finding myself in these situations? Or would I, if I had Nyx's perfect memory, be aware of all the taboo topics and hypersensitive?
I'm not sure I want to know the answer.
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"Hey, hey, it's Krotra!"
The faint whispers caught my attention, and I swiveled my ears toward the sound.
"Didn't you get her account last time? What happened after that?" one voice teased.
"She said, 'It's not you, it's me.' What do you think?" came the frustrated and annoyed reply.
"Tough luck, man." The sound of laughter, laced with schadenfreude, followed.
I slowly swiveled my ears back, not wanting to eavesdrop on someone else's private conversation. "Important social event," right?
"Ugh, I really wish we could meet more often. Being separated by distance and only seeing each other every four years is torture!" A loud voice near the refreshment table drew my attention--it was one of the Woods.
"Keep it down! This is a public place; what you're saying is indecent!" I could feel his friend's worried glance in my direction.
"Like you're not thinking the same thing," the loud-mouthed Wood retorted, seemingly unconcerned about sharing his thoughts with everyone around.
"But I wouldn't say it in public. That's the key difference!" I had to admit his friend had a point.
"Alright, alright, I was just saying! Besides, we'll be twenty-two next year, and the ban won't apply to us anymore." The loud-mouthed Wood poured himself a drink and tossed a tiny umbrella into it.
"Well, Poplar still has six years to go..." another Snow muttered as he poured himself a drink.
"Who told you to be a weirdo who likes cubs?" The mocking tone was clearly too loud, as I noticed the surrounding conversations suddenly quiet down, and many eyes turned their way. The two Woods eventually decided to pretend nothing had happened and left with their drinks.
Important social event.
I shrugged. As someone who understood the pain that rumors and misunderstandings could cause, I decided not to judge others too quickly.
The canines coming and going around me all seemed to naturally strike up conversations with anyone they happened to cross paths with or chat casually for a few moments, as if it were an instinct.
Some were exchanging opinions on the quality of the drinks and the Tree Hall, while others shared gossip, including the few seconds of interrupted broadcast during the first day's events and the recent clash between the Archduke of Germany and the Archduke of Golden.
What's the principle behind this?
Even if there was a conversation I wanted to join, some sort of discomfort kept me from taking that step--it was a barrier, like being enveloped in a tangible fog that separated me from others.
This feeling... it's exactly like the stagnation I experience when my actions are hindered by the consciousness circle.
I knew that if I extended my consciousness, I could easily push past this barrier, but... do I really want to socialize with these others? How many in this hall know who I am? Judging by the uncomfortable glances I occasionally received, perhaps not many. But how many would immediately change their attitude toward me once they found out who I am?
I glanced at Aether, who was talking to a few wolves from different factions, seeming to enjoy the conversation--everyone's tails were wagging slightly.
I turned away, feeling a complicated emotion rising in my chest.
A few crisp knocks caught my attention, and I noticed that the conductor on the platform had given some sort of instruction, preparing for the next piece. In the dance floor, pairs of dancers took the opportunity to acknowledge each other--some left the floor, while others joined in.
Most of the male wolves were dressed in formal suits, clearly indicating that togas were not the best attire for this occasion. Other canines wore slightly different styles, materials, or colors, but overall, there wasn't much difference.
However, a few black wolves caught my eye--their suits were a vivid lapis lazuli blue, and the style differed somewhat from what I usually saw in the Senate. A few golden embroideries adorned the cuffs and other edges of their clothing, forming some sort of pattern.
Were they members of Nyx with special status? Or was it simply a suit style that was once popular? Or maybe there was some reference that everyone else had forgotten, but only the Nyx remembered? I'll ask Aether later.
Although there were various canines on the dance floor, once the new song began, regardless of attire or breed, everyone started dancing in harmony to the same rhythm.
This type of subtle yet abstract body language always gave me a somewhat odd feeling.
I couldn't imagine that it was possible for two sides to coordinate and complete a dance built on harmony and rhythm, but I found it easier to see a pattern in a fight to the death. Maybe this had something to do with Snow's genes--or perhaps, I just hadn't found the right partner yet.
Thinking this made me instinctively scratch at my slightly warm ears.
I shifted my gaze away from the dance floor and back to the conductor.
I've always loved symphonies, that harmonious performance that resonates with something deep within me, like a chord being struck in my heart. But I'd only ever listened, never realizing that this perfect synchronization of melodies required a conductor.
It was, of course, a Mottle faction wolf--but the way she wielded the baton was as if she were defending everything she held dear, able to cut through any obstacle in her path--no Snow would ever deny that.
She wasn't just a single string among many in this sea of waves; she was the wave itself--the modulator of wavelengths and frequencies, the center of all resonances. She danced, creating ripples, and the world responded with waves. There was no need to pluck, blow, or strike--she commanded the world's form with mere gestures, shaping existence according to her will.
The moment I realized my consciousness was swaying to the rhythm, I quickly erected a mental barrier and withdrew my consciousness.
My heart pounded furiously, blood vessels in my ears throbbing as if they might burst, and every hair on my body stood on end. Qana had just shown some level of trust, and was I about to falter so soon?
"Two olives, shaken, not stirred," Aether said, approaching me with a peculiar, thick accent.
"Uh, what?" I was still trying to suppress my fight-or-flight response, unsure if I'd missed something, so I could only express my confusion.
"Nothing." Aether tilted his head slightly and picked up a skewer of pickled olives, tossing them into his glass. "As a Nix, you get used to the idea that outside the Library of Alexandria, no one gets your jokes." He shook his glass, forming a tiny whirlpool in the pale green liquid, then took a sip. "Ugh, way worse than I expected."
"I'm quite interested in hearing you explain that," I decided to distract myself with a different topic--small talk might help.
"Explaining would ruin the fun," Aether replied with a dismissive wave. He finished his drink, ate the olives, and placed the glass in the recycling slot for the synthesizer to decompose, along with the glass and bamboo skewer.
He hesitated for a moment, then picked up a new glass and began searching the bar for ingredients. I sniffed the air, confirming that the black powder was indeed pepper. Somehow, he managed to mix it into a red drink, which he finished off with a stick of celery.
"Celery?" I wasn't too familiar with drinks, but throwing in a stick of raw celery didn't seem like a common recipe.
"Some say a Bloody Mary is more like a soup," Aether said with a shrug after taking a sip of the red liquid. "But I'm just following the recipe--can't really taste anything special."
"Uh... okay?" I could only offer a vague agreement. Snows have relatively dull taste and smell, and I guessed it might be the same for Nixes.
Speaking of Nixes... I turned my gaze back to the dance floor, searching for the black wolf whose attire had caught my attention earlier.
"Why are some Nixes wearing blue suits?" I pointed to the black wolves on the dance floor. There weren't many, but the bright blue stood out, making them easy to spot. "Is it some kind of status symbol?"
"Technically, they're not Nixes. They..." Aether's tone was hesitant. But without even looking, he knew exactly what I was referring to. "...They're mixed-blood, with some genetic differences from the Nix strain," Aether whispered, low enough for only us to hear.
He looked like he was discussing something uncomfortable, which I could completely understand.
"They're London House's gray wolves..." Aether finished his red drink, turned around, and started chewing on the celery stick. He absentmindedly glanced up at the second-floor boxes. "There." He gestured with his snout towards a certain balcony.
I saw a black wolf in a lapis lazuli blue suit, standing with his back to us, engaged in conversation with someone. Beside him was another black wolf in the same attire, who seemed to be around our age, intently listening.
"Griffith London, Princeps of the Lunar and head of the London House, and his only son, John London," Aether said before turning back and tossing the rest of the celery into the empty glass. "Nixes don't like to talk about them much..."
I nodded in response, not pressing further, not wanting to force him into an uncomfortable discussion. I had already caught the key words.
Mixed-blood, Lunar.
Whatever the story behind the London House was, it indicated that leaving the Senate was possible for gray wolves. And that it was possible to live freely.
"Knowing that I might live on the Lunar someday, I suddenly have the urge to see space with my own eyes," I said, feeling a slight smile forming on my cheeks.
"Oh? Why's that?" Aether asked, twitching his right ear as he took his used glass to the recycler.
"I'm not sure," I said, scratching my ear, trying to recall what the Scholarch had said that might have caused this shift in me. "It's just that it no longer feels so abstract... It's like... something I might actually experience in my lifetime, so I'm a little... curious?" Maybe it's like... when a meaningless fantasy turns into a feasible plan? "Curious... if space is really that... vast."
I allowed myself to briefly imagine a future where I might live on the Lunar, even working at Oceanus Procellarum University with Momus--we'd all be wearing those blue suits with gold trims.
Not bad, actually. Lapis lazuli blue really brings out my eyes.
Speaking of which, where did Momus go?
I glanced around, but didn't spot the pup, nor did I hear any screams, so I shrugged, trusting that Momus could take care of himself.
The sounds of Aether preparing another drink brought me back to the present, making me realize something.
"You're using different-shaped glasses," I pointed out. Though I might not recognize some of the ingredients, the varied glassware was unmistakable. "Is there a reason for that?"
"Oh." Aether took a sip of a brown liquid with a twist of orange peel, shuddering dramatically before replying. "Some of it might just be tradition, but others have their proponents, though there aren't any strict rules."
He decisively placed the barely-touched drink in the recycling slot and led me to the glassware section.
"Mainly, it's about functionality--like preventing the drink from warming up too quickly, so you have tall, stemmed designs like this." Aether pointed to one of the high-stemmed glasses he'd used earlier. "This is a martini glass. Since you don't add ice, and because of the volume and the need to let the aroma spread, it has this inverted cone shape."
Aether picked up a martini glass and another, much taller, stemmed glass to show me.
"Similarly, the visual effect is another reason." He traced his finger along the taller glass. " Champagne Glasses are good for serving carbonated drinks because you can see the bubbles rise inside the glass. But if you're more concerned about the drink's aroma, some might recommend using a Jamesse Prestige glass."
I couldn't help but wonder if Aether noticed that when he shared his knowledge, the tip of his tail would sway in small, quick movements.
It was... kind of cute, really. I wondered if all Nixes did that. But I knew I could watch it all day without getting bored.
As the symphony played on, I listened intently as Aether explained the differences between Burgundy glasses and Pinot Noir glasses, along with hundreds of soft drinks and cocktails I'd never heard of before.