Path of Dragons

Elijah awoke on a bed of moss, but it wasn't in his treehouse. He opened his eyes to see a canopy of blue leaves above him. Motes of dust and pollen danced in the rays of light peeking through as the chirp of various birdcalls filled the air. He took a deep breath, smelling fresh rain and earth.

It was home.

"How long?" he asked.

Nerthus stood nearby, as still as any tree – a sentry by any other name. "It has been nearly seven weeks since you descended into the cave," he answered.

"That's got to be a record," Elijah said, still admiring the branches of the ancestral tree at the center of his grove.

"There are many who spend years pushing toward a new cultivation tier," Nerthus pointed out. "Centuries. Those at the peak likely take even longer."

"Personal record then," Elijah muttered, finally sitting up. He leaned against the tree trunk, then took another deep breath as he once again admired the notification he'd received before passing out.

This step along his path of cultivation felt far more personal than any of the others. Not more difficult – reaching the fourth tier in body and soul had pushed him to his limits as well – but psychologically taxing in a way that those other two had never been. However, the results were impressive, and he felt lighter than he had since before his initial cancer diagnosis.

That was not surprising, given the nature of his cultivation. Or his history. The last decade had been filled with one hardship after another. Certainly, there had been good times as well. Wonder and awe were abundant, and he'd met plenty of amazing people along the way. Yet, he'd not realized just how much trauma he'd accumulated.

Out of sight, out of mind.

It was so easy to ignore that trauma when he could simply quarantine it. However, he knew that, even had he not been forced to address it in order to progress his cultivation, it would have eventually become a problem. Every bit he added to the total affected him. Sometimes, the effects were subtle differences in attitude. Other times, they manifested in more overt ways.

And at some point, all that trauma would have spilled from one facet to the next until there was nowhere else for it to go. As useful as the ability to isolate and ignore it had proven to be, it was not a real solution. More of a band-aid on a mortal wound.

His recent experience was proof of that.

But now that it was done, he believed he was in a better position to cope with the inevitable trauma he might experience. However, he wouldn't be certain until he'd accumulated some. Given his past – and the challenges before him – Elijah didn't think that would take very long.

As it stood, when he looked inward, he no longer saw a disconnected system with disparate parts. No more did he see branches, gem-like facets, or a simple sphere of a core. Instead, he saw eighty-one leaves fluttering in a non-existent wind. Each one was attached to a powerful vortex, through which ethera entered the limbs of a nascent tree.

Soon, he would finish the image by forcing the seed that his core had to sprout into a roots. Only then would his spiritual foundation be complete. Only then would he have truly begun his path of cultivation.

For now, though, Elijah was happy. It felt like a weight had been lifted from his soul, and for the first time in a while, he was optimistic about the world's future. He hadn't even realized just how much his responsibilities and trauma had weighed him down, forcing him down the road of cynicism. He saw it now, though. And he rejected that.

Humanity would prevail. Earth would be saved from excisement. Even if he had to accomplish that feat alone, he would drag them forward one inch at a time. But he knew that wouldn't be the case. Even now, Sadie and his friends were fighting the same fight. Others across the world were as well.

The guilds, as ineffectual as they sometimes could be, were in the midst of building a force that could challenge a Primal Realm. For all Elijah knew, they'd already accomplished that goal.

The Conclave worked for the greater good as well. So did Seattle, as much as Elijah held that cesspool in disdain. They'd found a Primal Realm, and presumably, they were preparing to assault it. That was good for the world.

Would it cause problems in the future? Maybe. Someone in that city had already tried to have him killed. But they wanted to save Earth just as much as anyone.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The reality was that, even if he sometimes felt like it, Elijah was not alone.

And it was high time he made that official.

"We need to figure out how to do this ritual and bond everyone to the grove," Elijah said. "The elves. Kurik. Biggle, if he wants it. The kids. Hope. Am I missing anyone?"

"Oscar and the pack."

"Oh, yeah. Them," Elijah said, though he wasn't certain that Oscar would accept such an invitation. The man had a fiercely independent streak, and last Elijah had checked in, he was still unsure about his place in the grove. "The point is that we need people here. We need to build a community. I'm tired of us going it alone."

After that, Nerthus explained that, due to his class evolution, he could satisfy one of the Druid requirements necessary to bond new people to the grove. Normally, it took two, and though the spryggent wasn't technically a Druid, his unique class and race combination gave him more leeway than in most situations.

Within a few minutes, Elijah also realized that Nerthus wouldn't be satisfied with a simple ceremony. According to him, it was a hallowed event, and he refused to cut any corners.

"It will take at least a week to prepare," Nerthus said, seeming more excited than he had since Elijah had given him the Primordial Loam.

"Uh…you need me to do anything?" Elijah asked.

"I will make the appropriate arrangements," Nerthus answered.

With that decided, Elijah wasn't certain how to occupy himself. He knew he couldn't just disappear again, so he chose to take care of something that had weighed on his mind from the moment he'd awoken. To that end, after showering and dressing, he shifted into the Shape of the Sky, then flew across the strait to Ironshore.

Not long after, he found himself entering the Imperium. The hotel had grown, both in size as well as luxury. Ethera glistened off every surface, and a sense of calm emanated from much of the art. It was clear that they'd found an Artist to assist with the ambiance. Elijah already knew where he was going, so he soon found himself standing in front of one of the doors on the third floor.

He knocked, then waited.

A few moments later, Nara opened the door. Thankfully, she'd replaced her normal attire with something more appropriate for living in Ironshore. Just lightweight linen clothing, but it was obviously made by someone with talent. Probably Hope, now that Elijah thought about it.

"May I come in?" Elijah asked.

"Certainly," she answered, stepping aside to allow him entry. The room itself was just as well-appointed as he remembered, though with his increased power, it didn't seem quite as luxurious. Of course, it had been years since he'd stayed in the Imperium, so that was to be expected. Once he was inside, she closed the door and invited him to sit. There was a bar nearby, but Elijah could tell that she'd not touched it. So, the lack of an offer for refreshments wasn't surprising.

Elijah took his seat on one of the nearby chairs. For a few moments, he remained silent, largely because he wasn't sure what to say. Finally, he decided to opt for something straightforward. "I wanted to thank you for saving me," he said. "How did you know I was in trouble?"

"Nerthus," she answered. "He sensed you were in trouble. He can't abide the sea, so he asked me to help."

"Thank you," Elijah repeated.

"Think nothing of it."

It was an awkward moment, after thanking someone for saving one's life. Of course, it was a bit of an exaggeration. Elijah didn't think he would have died in the cultivation cave, but it was the thought that counted. Either way, he knew his recovery would have taken much longer down there.

He moved on to the next order of business. "I've decided to induct you and your people into the grove," he said. "Assuming that's still what you want."

She couldn't stop a smile from spreading across her face, but she quickly composed herself. "I would like nothing more," she stated. "But if this is because I saved your –"

"It's not," Elijah interrupted. "I made the decision weeks ago. The grove needs to grow." His hand found the back of his neck as he went on, "I'm not really a normal Druid. I think you know that. I have no intention of sticking around the grove and giving it the attention it probably deserves. That's just not my skillset. It's not my class. And it's definitely not my personality. On top of that, I have responsibilities to the world."

He leaned forward. "But you can fill that role. You can help Nerthus maintain the health of the grove. You can recruit new people. You can train the ones we have. I need you at least as much as you need me," he admitted. "Probably more."

"Then why has it taken so long?" she asked.

It was a good question, but it also had a good answer. "I wasn't sure I could trust you. Others might not understand the bond between a Druid and their grove, but you do. You're still a stranger to me," Elijah said. "By all rights, I probably shouldn't trust you, even now. And the people that came with you either. But I can't delay any longer. This needs to be done, and sooner rather than later."

"We can be trusted."

Elijah gave her a half smile. "That's exactly what an untrustworthy person would say," he pointed out. Before she could counter that, he said, "But that part of it is behind us. I've made my choice, and now, I can only hope it's the right one."

After that, he detailed his plans for other additions to the grove. She approved of them all, but she admitted to having reservations about Biggle. Elijah shut that down, though. The fact that he was an Alchemist was troubling, at least on its own. There was a long history of Druids and Alchemists being at odds. However, Elijah had learned to trust the gnome.

"We're friends," Elijah said. "If he wants to be part of the grove, then he's in. Otherwise, he'll stick to his little patch of the island, same as it is now."

Nara acquiesced, dropping the argument. No doubt, that was because she didn't want to interfere with his choice to induct her and her people into the grove. Elijah wanted to point out that that wasn't what he wanted. If she had issues, it was okay to argue with him. He didn't want a toady. He needed a partner.

But that was probably an issue for another day.

For now, it was enough that she knew what was expected of her once she joined the grove. Because Elijah knew he couldn't afford to stick around for much longer.

Just as they were finishing up, Elijah felt someone pass into his locus. Following that was an entire group of familiar faces. They'd clearly arrived in Ironshore and were making their way back to the island.

"What is it?" asked Nara, noticing Elijah's distraction.

He grinned broadly. "It looks like the conquering heroes have returned."

Indeed, Miguel, Oscar, the pack, Isaak, and Carmen had made it back from the Chimeric Forge. He'd known that at least Miguel was still alive, so he hadn't been worried about their safety. But it was still nice to see that everyone had made it mostly unscathed.

"I guess you should probably give your people…well, our people, I suppose…the good news," he said. "In the meantime, I need to go welcome everyone home."