20. Question and Answer Time
I walked into the archive a man on a mission. Perhaps more accurately, a dragon on a mission, as I leaned on my second half for the strength I felt I needed. I had questions I wanted answered, and Antonin was the only one I was comfortable asking -- the only one I believed had any incentive not to spin me a line of shit from the start. He had his own reasons to want me here, as a combined research test subject and fellow analyst in Antonin's quest to solve the fundamental workings of magic underlying draconic functions. I was the only one in the world accessible to him, and the others certainly weren't likely to be anywhere near as cooperative and accommodating.
At least, that's what I had been told.
As of late, I was growing increasingly suspicious of what I had been told.
Everyone I had met had been through Aisling directly or at Aisling's request. The handful of incidental interactions I'd experienced had been only one step removed from Aisling. How had I not run into anyone truly organically? Sure, I hadn't been running around outside trying to start a grassroots political campaign, cold approaching everyone I saw, but I had nothing to show for my time in public, nothing that couldn't be linked to Aisling within a step or two.
It seemed confusing to me. Beside Antonin, the people who should've been briefed on who I was hadn't been. Neither Evgenia nor Zoey had been fully read in on my situation before simply being assigned to me. Everyone else, despite seemingly being random interactions, already seemed to know who I was now. Maybe I was being paranoid, but the way Mallory had described requesting clearance for an outdoor flight rubbed me the wrong way.
I had encouraged Sam to stay home under the guise of letting her rest after yesterday. She acquiesced rather readily, content to sleep in with Beth. The younger woman was going to make a spicy chili with Zenya during the day, and Sam was content to hang out and put her magic into it. Once the idea was brought up, she wanted to see if Zenya could feel any difference between regular dishes and ones empowered with her culinary mana.
So I marched alone into the archive, determined to get some truth, and found the elderly archivist eying me warily as a similarly aged woman talked at him. She was sipping tea, wearing denim overalls and a big straw hat despite being indoors, and was speaking very slowly, laboriously elongating every phrase she wielded. On the table were nearly thirty potted plants -- flowers, cactuses, ivy, bamboo, ferns, a bush the size of a washing machine in a massive pot off to the side -- but I didn't allow myself to be distracted and drawn into a lesson plan until I had answers. I had worked myself into a righteous fervor on my way over here, and I had no intention of letting it be wasted or tempered before I began.
Oh, and the woman was covered in red scales, little ebony horns poking through designed, reinforced holes in the hat, and a thin, scaled tail wrapping around the leg of her chair. She looked almost like a wingless bipedal version of me, strangely. If anything was going to distract me, she was it, but I swallowed my curiosity and leveled my gaze and my questions at the archivist.
"Antonin, are my interactions being controlled? Are the people around me being screened before I can see them?"
The elf stroked his wispy hair, set his coffee down on the table, and sighed.
"Obviously, drakeling."
"Why? Why on earth did I have my whole life uprooted to be placed inside some Truman Show parody?"
Antonin pursed his grey lips. "Do you know, drakeling, who else has their interactions limited and potential meetings screened first?"
"Prisoners," I spat at him.
He rolled his eyes. "Business moguls. High-level politicians. Movie stars. Think, James."
My anger withered momentarily as I was caught off guard by Antonin actually using my name. "What are you saying?"
"It is possible to prevent you from having random interactions for your benefit."
"Without my knowledge or consent? Without my approval and direction?"
"Do you know what is being screened for? Do you know who is being filtered and why? Would you have anything to contribute to that discussion?"
"Yes? How would my opinion not matter?"
"James, in your previous life, if a known scammer from India wanted to get in contact with you but your phone provider automatically declined to connect him, would you be upset? If a phishing link was sent to your email, but it was automatically placed in your spam folder and deleted, would you be upset? These things were done without your prior knowledge or consent and without your solicited opinion on which things to actively filter."
"So what are you saying, Antonin? The only things being prevented are obviously malicious agents out to take advantage of me?"