Chương 73: B2—Chapter 6: Paris, Here We Come

We celebrated the New Year in London and moved to Paris the next day. After paying the mana for the language, we spent four weeks touring the city and its attractions. At Disneyland Paris, we discovered dogs weren't allowed in the park, which disappointed Rue. I got creative and conjured documents that showed he was a seizure-alert dog. With his new "job," Rue happily trotted beside us, tail wagging like crazy. Lis and Mahya were like kids in a candy store, running around and laughing at every attraction.

I, on the other hand, felt like my stomach was doing somersaults after each ride. The teacups and roller coasters especially did a number on me. On the rides he could join, Rue's ears flapped in the wind, and he looked like he had the time of his life. He grumbled about the ones he couldn't go on, sending me images of his disappointment. But he quickly cheered up with all the kids around, making tons of new little friends. Even though I felt like I might lose my lunch on every ride, I stuck it out for Rue.

By the end of the three days, I was pale and wiped out, but seeing Rue so happy made up for it. At least my green complexion helped sell the whole service dog story. As we walked through Versailles Palace, Mahya looked around with wide eyes and declared, "If I ever settle down somewhere, this is the kind of home I want to build for myself." Lis smirked and nudged me.

"Hear that? Mahya's got some grandiose ambitions." I waggled my eyebrows at her.

"Yeah, nothing like aiming for a modest little palace." Mahya rolled her eyes but smiled.

"Why not dream big?"

"Just don't forget the golden chandeliers and the endless gardens," Lis teased, waggling his eyebrows.

"And the hall of mirrors," I added with a grin.

"Can't forget that." We continued teasing her about her grandiose ambitions for the rest of the day, poking fun at every elaborate feature we passed. During our tour of Château de Chambord in the Loire Valley, Mahya was in awe of the castle's grandeur. Her eyes sparkled as she admired the intricate architecture and sprawling grounds.

"I think I might want this as my future home," she mused.

"But now I'm torn between this and Versailles." Lis and I exchanged amused glances.

"Oh, so now you want two palaces?" he teased, nudging her playfully.

"Why not have both?" I added with a grin.

"You could alternate between them depending on the season." Mahya laughed and shook her head.

"You guys are ridiculous." Lis pretended to bow.

"Just make sure there's enough room for all your royal subjects."

"And don't forget the moat and drawbridge," I said, smirking.

"Every castle needs those." For the rest of the day, we didn't let up. Every time we passed another grand feature, Lis and I came up with more elaborate suggestions for her future estate. Mahya took it all in stride, laughing with us and rolling her eyes at our over-the-top ideas. It turned into a running joke that entertained us and made the tour even more fun. We spent three days at the Louvre Museum, and it felt like stepping into a different world.

Mahya's eyes lit up as she examined the detailed paintings and sculptures, often stopping to take notes or sketch quick drawings. Lis drifted from piece to piece, his face showing a mixture of admiration and curiosity as he read the plaques and tried to interpret the stories behind the art. I was equally captivated, filled with wonder by each masterpiece we encountered. The history, the skill, and the sheer creativity on display were magical.

We got carried away talking about the artists and how they created those masterpieces, and imagining what life must've been like when they made them. Rue, however, didn't share our enthusiasm. He padded beside us, his tail occasionally wagging at the attention from museum-goers, but mostly he seemed unimpressed. He kept sending me mental images of lounging in a park, chasing seagulls, or doing anything other than staring at old paintings.

At one point, while we were studying The Coronation of Napoleon, Rue sent me a particularly vivid image of himself yawning exaggeratedly, making me stifle a laugh. I patted his head and whispered, "Just a bit longer, buddy." Despite Rue's lack of interest, the three days we spent at the Louvre were unforgettable. Our next stop was the Eiffel Tower.

"This is one of Earth's most famous landmarks," I said, gesturing toward the towering structure. Lis and Mahya looked up, their faces blank.

"It's just a big metal tower," Lis said, unimpressed. I frowned, struggling to convey its significance.

"It's not just any tower. It was built for the 1889 World's Fair and has become a symbol of architectural achievement and cultural heritage." Mahya tilted her head.

"But why is it such a big deal? It is not even that tall compared to some buildings."

"It's about the history and what it represents," I insisted, opening Wikipedia and reading out loud about its construction, the engineering marvel it was at the time, and its role in French culture. They both exchanged glances.

"I guess it's interesting," Lis said slowly, "but it just looks like a tower to me." Mahya nodded.

"Yes, I do not understand why it is so famous." Deflated, I sighed.

"Well, it's not just about the structure. It's about what it symbolizes for Earth." They nodded politely, but their lack of enthusiasm was clear. Despite my best efforts, they didn't grasp the significance of the Eiffel Tower. Sometimes the alien perspective was annoying. The Paris Catacombs were eerie, with their winding tunnels and stacked bones. As we descended into the depths, Rue whined softly and pressed close to my leg. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by an obvious discomfort.

Crouching down, I patted his head.

"You okay, buddy?" Rue's whine grew louder as he tugged at his leash and sent me mental images of wide-open spaces and the park, accompanied by a strong feeling of unease. I recalled the cave in Shimoor, where Rue spent all his time outside. That was the first time I suspected he might be claustrophobic. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"It's okay, buddy. We're almost through," I whispered, trying to soothe him. But the mental images of escape and the overwhelming urge to leave made it clear he just wanted out. We hurried through the rest of the tour with Rue practically dragging me toward the exit. At a cabaret show in Montmartre, Mahya stared at the dancers' high-kicking routines with her mouth hanging open. The next day, she tried to imitate the moves, enthusiastically throwing her legs in the air.

On one of her tries, she hooked the coffee table with her toes, sending it crashing into the ceiling. Between the ruined balance and the surprise, she fell back, and the table landed on her. She squeaked and looked offended. That did it, and I burst out laughing, clutching my sides as I watched her sprawled out on the floor. Mahya grabbed a pillow and threw it at me.

"Stop laughing! It's harder than it looks!"

"I'll stop laughing if you'll stop kicking."

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," she said with a grin, finally conceding defeat.

"No more high kicks. I don't want to break anything." It was nice. Amid all the tours, the teasing, and the jokes, Mahya also became a friend. I never had any before, and suddenly I had two. It felt like my life had shifted lanes when I wasn't paying attention and moved in a new direction. I didn't label it or analyze it; it just settled in naturally, like something that had been missing finally slid into place without making a big scene. A part of me settled too, letting me relax into my skin.

Once we finished sightseeing, it was time for the workshops. I searched online and booked every available one. Paris had an even more interesting selection: Hair Transplantation Workshop: FUE & FUT Technique Training Small Business – Payroll and Workers' Comp Workshop Monthly Circle Songs – Group Improv Workshop Sculpture Drawing Lessons I always thought you either sculpted or painted. Apparently, in Paris, you draw sculptures.

Distillation Workshop in A Parisian Micro-Distillery Apéro Lino: Linocut Workshop At Galerie Wawi Manufacturing of Personalized Phone Clips No idea who wakes up one day and thinks, "Yes, today I shall personalize a phone clip." Foundations of Yoga Workshop Brand Building Blueprint Workshop … and about ten more. The three of us started going through them one by one, and Rue joined us occasionally. The service dog document was a blessing.

He could come to all the workshops except the cooking ones, which made sense since nobody wanted dog fur in the food. During their free time, Lis and Mahya sat at the dining table with a stack of books and blueprints, discussing load-bearing capacity, thermal conductivity, and fatigue resistance. I fought my way through another verbose book about the main branches of magic. Rue, true to form, made friends with everyone in the neighborhood and found new sources of beer. The Talk Dirty in French workshop was a bust.

All the participants were tourists, so we switched to English too, but that didn't help us earn an Ability Point.

"It's not fair," I complained as we stepped outside, shoving my hands into my pockets. Lis shrugged, adjusting his scarf with an amused look.

"Remember the double benefit rule? We got French from the Guidance, so it makes sense."

"I am with John," Mahya said, lifting her chin.

"This is a specific ability. We should have gotten the point." Despite the disappointment, we kept brainstorming French dirty talk ideas for days afterward. Every conversation spiraled into fits of giggles as we tried out new phrases on each other. Lis dramatically recited his favorites with a faux-romantic tone and half-lidded eyes, fluttering his lashes like some lovesick poet, which only made us laugh harder.

Mahya leaned against doorframes and did her sultry version, imitating the instructor with her hand on her neck and a sideways glance. I liked the linguistic exercise of concocting innocent-sounding phrases that came across as dirty in the right context.

"Would you like to touch my baguette?" with a wink, or, "If you keep playing with it like that, it's going to get bigger," whispered to Mahya while she was washing a cucumber for the salad. Rue, however, found our antics thoroughly perplexing. He sat off to the side with his head tilted, sending me mental images of giant question marks floating over his head. Every time one of us burst into giggles, he would huff loudly, shake his head, and send a distinct feeling that we were all completely nuts.

I had a BIG surprise at the Shibari Rope Art workshop. When I booked it, I honestly thought it would be like the raffia workshop we'd done in London—making things out of rope. Instead, it turned out to be a branch of BDSM. When the instructor explained we would be the ones getting tied up, my face turned tomato-red. I darted glances around the room, searching for an escape route. For the rest of the workshop, I stayed red as a lobster and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a deep hole.

Lis, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He laughed and joked with everyone, happily throwing himself into the experience. At first, Mahya and I exchanged looks and teased him about his enthusiasm, hoping it would take the edge off my discomfort. But Mahya—traitor that she was—got caught up in the fun too. She leaned forward with a wicked sparkle in her eyes and fantasized out loud about using the techniques in Faerie.

"Imagine using these ropes to create one-of-a-kind tree decorations from the elves," she said, voice full of sinister delight.

"Especially tying their heads to their asses." At that point, I was just relieved Rue hadn't come with us. The last thing I needed was my dog staring at me in confusion, wondering what kind of unhinged nonsense I got myself into this time. We should have glamoured ourselves as women before the Dramatic Makeup workshop, but I didn't think of it. Of course, the ladies thought Lis and me were lovers when they saw two guys attending the class. Mahya, the troublemaking imp, decided to have some fun at our expense.

I suspected it was retaliation for all our teasing about her grandiose taste for her future home. She made up stories about how we first met and fell in love. Initially, Lis thought it was funny, but he started giving her murderous glances when she went overboard, and he saw how uncomfortable it made me feel. I, on the other hand, was tomato red—again. After class, Lis and I cornered her.

"You know, one of these days, I might strangle you," Lis said, only half-joking. I nodded, still blushing.

"Next time, we need to come up with a signal to shut you up." Mahya just grinned.

"Oh, come on, you know it was fun. Now, let's go get some coffee, my treat." We couldn't stay mad at her for long, so we left the class laughing. At least we all got the point, and I learned how to contour my eyes "to make them pop out." Ugh! The Table Manners A La Francaise workshop was another bust. We sat around a beautifully set table, learning how to handle utensils and fold napkins, but the system didn't award us any skill points for the hardship.

"Seriously? No points for knowing which fork to use?" I grumbled.

"Guess table manners aren't a real skill," Mahya said, rolling her eyes. The three of us complained about it for days, but the system remained unconvinced and still refused to give us the points. After the Choux à la Crème workshop, Lis, Mahya, and Rue developed an insatiable craving for eclairs and cream puffs. Every day, they begged for more, with Rue being the most insistent. He sat in the kitchen, eyes hopeful.

When I tried to explain that chocolate was bad for dogs, Rue used Telekinesis to move things around, sending me a distinct feeling of "Who's a dog?"

"Who said giving a dog Telekinesis was a good idea?" I complained, watching a fork do figure eights in the air. For the Overcome Under-earning – Women's "Get Wealthy" Workshop, Lis and I had to glamour ourselves as women because, for some ridiculous reason, the organizers insisted only women could attend. Stupid rules! Lis and I didn't get a point for the Weaving on Wooden Frame Workshop; only Mahya did.

We figured it was because of the three other weaving workshops we'd done in London, and realized there was a limit to how much skill variation farming we could get away with. We still thought it was unfair and complained loudly. Mahya called us crybabies. After the Chocolate Making Workshop at Choco-Story, we toured the chocolate museum and bought an ungodly amount of chocolate. I spent over 2, 000 euros. In the Card Magic Workshop, we tried to master sleight of hand and a bunch of card tricks.

Lis and Mahya, with their higher Agility, had better results than I did, but neither of them enjoyed it. Every failed trick earned a growl. When I finally pulled one off, I still didn't like the workshop.

"You know? Actual magic is a lot easier," Lis said, tossing the deck aside.

"Agreed," Mahya said with a nod.

"This is way too complicated." We laughed and decided we'd stick to real magic from now on. Basically, Paris was a lot of fun.