Another Narrative

"Most Flint Dragons truly have no awareness, no senses, and no intelligence. But there are exceptions," the Black Duke said quietly. "The Saint of Wisdom, First Bloom of the Craftsman, is one of them. It has a mind, senses, and wisdom—and all three far surpass those of the other Saints."

Feilier rested a hand against her cheek, a faint light flickering in her emerald eyes. "That secret is fascinating, but what does it have to do with the self-interest and concern for the common good you mentioned?"

"I haven't finished. Hear me out."

"Then make it quick."

"The traditional story says humanity rose from the earth, and the Flint Dragons, sensing a threat, began slaughtering humans. But have you ever wondered how creatures with no awareness, senses, or intelligence—things no different from rocks or ancient trees—could feel threatened in the first place, much less attack humanity because of it?"

"That's the mistake of assuming they think like us. Flint Dragons are utterly unlike humans. They don't feel threatened."

Feilier blinked. "So greedy humans attacked the Flint Dragons first, rather than the Flint Dragons attacking humans because they felt threatened?"

"Wrong." The Black Duke shook his head. "My grandfather told me the ground beneath our feet is actually a sphere that constantly spins on its own. What was the word for it? Ah, right. Planet."

The abrupt leap in the Black Duke's reasoning left Feilier silent for a moment.

Then she frowned. "Suppose the ground beneath us really is a spinning sphere. What does that have to do with anything you just said?"

"Humans emerged from the earth, and humans are made of flesh and blood. Do you understand?" the Black Duke asked gravely.

Feilier asked uncertainly, "So the earth is made of... flesh and blood?"

"According to my grandfather, it