Scene:

Parliament. Opera house is modeled after the Vienna State Opera house. The evening sky was a blurred canvas of orange and pink clouds.

He'd forgotten how difficult it was to navigate Strada Avenue. A street crowded with restaurants, cafes and shops. Cars parked along the sidewalk made the tight street narrower. Pedestrians either drunk or ill-attentive jumped out at odd moments. Drivers clutched their wheels and remained vigilant. Otherwise they had some explaining to do. The man parked in front of a bistro with outdoor seating that pressed so close to the edge he feared he'd scratch his car. A delicious smell of lobster and pasta aromatized the air and enlarged his sated stomach. He sampled the delicious scents from nearby establishments like a connoisseur as he walked, the evening sky behind him a blurred canvas of orange and pink clouds. Parliament was massive. It cast a shadow across the entire square. Built with dragons in mind. Crafted out of their bones. Gave it a special pearl sheen. A chill crawled up the man's back the second he entered its shade. He tucked his grey scarf into his brown coat and continued.

The Great Rotunda. The entrance to the house of governance. A national showroom for art. Corridors led south to the Commons and north to the Offices of Representatives. The east corridor opened to the Hall of Paintings. On its walls hung depictions of important moments in Arsenian history. A dragon that looked like a boulder lay curled in the center of the room. Its curious concrete pigmented skin gleamed in the weak sunlight. He stopped for the routine security check. The dragon unfurled its rock-like tail. It wrapped it around his entire body and squeezed. He was released. Cleared.

"Welcome to Parliament, General." The security guard said.

He nodded and moved ahead. This man was Elias Baltasar. General of the Arsenian Navies, and Arwen Mordecai's closest friend. He'd come to take him to the opera. He walked into the Hall of Paintings. Ducked into a branch corridor that led to the offices. Elias did not visit often. When he did he loved to sit for hours in these smaller halls where the curators couldn't choose which to display and simply hung up as many paintings as they could. The walls bore a physical presentation of the passage of time where the progression in style changed from the simplest almost childlike drawings of misshapen animals to those whose artists acquired a better grasp of human anatomy and greater understanding of geometry to the recent techniques soaked in darkness and color glorifying the country yet also immortalizing its worst moments as a reminder of what could happen when advancement was forgotten.

Elias passed some offices, doors wide open. ASSR officers left carrying boxes and escorting suspects. These rooms belonged to high ranked party members. To think they would be corrupt. A terrible thing. It wasn't unimaginable, but it was saddening nevertheless. Misconduct hit so close to the heart of their government. Elias arrived at Arwen's office and stood in front of the door. A door that's withstood the fiery ire of many dragons. It was difficult to match this level of craftsmanship nowadays. Elias traced the dragon's shape. The once isolated Arseny was no more. Changed so drastically within decades. As a child candles lit their homes. Now they had electricity. Wonderful. He heard a commotion and saw a well known representative bolting towards him. ASSR officers pursued close behind. He readied his stance to fight, but the person just collapsed on his knees begging for Arwen. Elias grabbed the man by the collar and warned the Prime Minister not to come out. Arwen ignored him and opened the door as he fixed the cuffs of his white dress shirt and had a jacket slung over his shoulder. Vulnerable.

"What's this?"

The man blurted out, "Arwen, forgive me, forgive me. Let me have just one more chance, one more, please, please."

The Prime Minister sighed and waved a hand. Elias let go and the officers retreated.

Arwen crouched to the man's eye level and gripped his shoulder, voice low. "Mr. Dagobert. Smuggling dragon eggs is...its an offense I believe punishable by death. However. We do not live in a lawful society but a fair one. You are lucky it is only your career and reputation that will be executed. Though after all you've done, if I were you I'd have the good sense to commit suicide."

Dagobert trembled, "Please, Arwen."

"We're late, Elias."

They left the building and began the short walk to the opera house.

Elias asked, "Did he really smuggle dragon eggs?"

"Yes."

"I know your tricks, Arwen."

"I do not speak of death lightly."

Elias sighed. "I've done some questionable things as a military man. But even I have reservations as to what you're trying to accomplish."

Arwen curtly replied, "I know what I'm doing."

"I'm thinking about retiring. For good. I think you should too."

Arwen momentarily stopped walking. "Where is this spontaneity-"

"Even the most stringent believers grow tired. I want to visit countries for leisure, not war. Enjoy a slow life. With you."

"My friend, if you can, have a child or find a wife to rekindle your faith-."

"I am surprised that between the two of us it was you who found love," Elias said, stroking his long tawny hair.

Arwen smirked. "Your face is much too narrow to like."

Elias grimaced looking at him. "No, no. I have the more palatable face, but do go on. You were saying?"

A large riverboat strung with lights glowed colorfully against the ink spilled waters disembarking its well dressed passengers who milled in front of the opera house.

Arwen lowered his voice, "The people I love are in Arseny. Duty to country is the passion of my life."

Elias had a look on his face Arwen chose to ignore.

"I will retire when the time comes. My mother, you may recall, withdrew from governance when she was one hundred and ten. If we are to travel I suggest you stay alive until then."

Elias stifled a dissatisfied groan. Arsenians have longer lifespans than most. The Mordecai family, one of the five who helped the Royal Family establish the country have greater longevity because of their special connections to the dragons.

"You're asking a lot of me, Arwen."

"I am confident in you. Who knows? If all goes well I might retire sooner."

"I should begin a coup and install a puppet to lead Arseny. I'd kidnap you and off we go on adventure," Elias mused.

Arwen stared at him with an intense jocular spirit. "Do it."

"Too much work. The logistics would be terrible."

Arwen patted his friend's back and spoke words of encouragement. "This is your one chance Elias. If we are to be sad old men in retirement let us be sad old men together for then we won't be lonely."

Elias coughed into his fist to hide his smile. Arwen was too invested in something and he knew neither force or persuasion could move this stubborn man. Lighthearted banter was fine. "Enough of this talk. Discuss something else."

Before they could people realized the Prime Minister had arrived and hurried to talk to him. Elias kept a lookout for danger as Arwen entertained the masses. As he steered Arwen up the red felt carpeted stairs to their private booth, slapping hands off the Prime Minister and blocking suspicious folks with his body, Elias wondered why he let himself be coerced into watching yet another opera. He didn't even like this stuff so often screeched in the ancient Arsenic language he couldn't understand.

They sat in their seats.

Elias said, "I choose what we do next time."

"Sit on a boat sipping tea doing nothing?" Arwen mimicked the action. "I think not."

"It's relaxing."

"I can sit still but my mind can't. That is exactly why I like opera. The singing preoccupies my attention. Besides, someone has to protect the Prime Minister. I'd rather watch with a friend than a stoic officer. This was the only compromise I could arrive at with Maks."

Elias doubled over, his fingers dug into his scalp in exasperation. So it was Meiers who disturbed his peaceful evenings. "I'll have to have a word with Maks."

"When the boy has his mind set on something you can't change it."

"Inform him I won't be available the next time you see a play."

Arwen shifted in his seat as the lights dimmed. "Alright. I'll bite. Next time we will go on a boat and do nothing."

"I do hope there will be a next time," Elias muttered.

"For now," Arwen poured his friend a drink, "Enjoy the show."

Elias looked at the stage distastefully. "I'll do my best."