Path of Dragons

Miguel felt his uncle well before his actual arrival. The feeling wasn't overbearing, but he had a vague sense of the grove and its master. Still, when Elijah poked his head above the surface of the strait – in the form of a giant sea turtle – he couldn't contain his relief.

"Welcome back!" Elijah bellowed, though it clearly wasn't intended as a shout. Even so, the sound sent ripples across the water. "I'll see you at the docks."

Then, he dipped below the waves, rocking the boat in his wake.

"At least he's back," came a mutter from the rear of the boat. Miguel turned to see his mother sitting there, obviously miserable. And for good reason, too. Like all the rest of them, she'd spent the past few months battling through the Chimeric Forge, and she'd made no secret about the fact that she was looking forward to a return to her own forge and the comforts of home.

But when Miguel looked at her, he no longer saw only his mother. She was that, but she was also much more. He'd not really considered how savage she could be in battle, nor how important she could be to a war effort. But it was no great secret – and certainly not an exaggeration – to say that their voyage into the Primal Realm would have ended quite differently had she not participated.

Not only was she instrumental in arming the Vey'thaalians, but she'd also fought on the frontlines often enough to gain levels as well as respect from the normal combatants. She was not just a crafter. She was a force with which to be reckoned.

The same was true of everyone else who'd entered the Chimeric Forge. Isaak had proven himself a true scourge, and he'd begun to specialize in widespread damage. And with his new class evolution, his soulfire would become more powerful than ever before. Even before that evolution, he'd routinely destroyed whole swaths of chimera, and Miguel suspected he would only grow stronger with time.

The true champion of their foray into the Primal Realm had been Kurik, though. Miguel had heard plenty of stories about the dwarf's traps, about his exploits in the Trial of Primacy, but still, he'd underestimated just how effective Kurik could be. It didn't really matter if he used normal traps or some of his new, plant-based devices – he was an absolute terror on the battlefield. And he was even more effective when he had a little time to prepare.

Without him, they'd have needed double or triple the amount of time to conquer the Chimeric Forge.

Of course, not to be left out was Ron. The man was a maestro of healing, and more than once, Miguel had heard people say that he was wasted in a controlled setting like a clinic. He was born to be a battlefield Healer, and he'd saved too many people to count. There wasn't a participant in the run who didn't owe their lives to him.

Then there was Oscar. For the most part, he stayed out of the fighting, preferring to go his own way. More than once, Miguel had found him watching over their people from afar. Clearly, he'd come along not to gain levels himself, but to ensure that they were successful – without spoiling their own progression. However, he'd truly shown his might during the last battle against the forge-turned-automaton, and his pack had almost single-handedly dismantled the massive creation.

By comparison, Miguel felt like a child playing with sticks.

He knew that wasn't the case. He'd performed as well as anyone within the Primal Realm. But seeing someone like Oscar go all-out was an eye-opener. He had a long, long way to go if he ever wanted to rival someone like that.

They all did.

Even so, he was satisfied with his progression, mostly because he'd finally passed the one-twenty-five mark and received his class evolution, which he'd chosen the second he'd left the Chimeric Forge. Thankfully, they had a Branch in the nearby fort.

He could still scarcely believe he'd come so far, but looking at his new status came with a sense of overwhelming pride:

Most of his attribute advances were due to Pledge of the Green Warden, which still hadn't evolved. Nor did it really need to, considering that it gave him a flat two-hundred extra attributes across the board. The only downside was that it only reached that peak when he was near the grove. For instance, within the Chimeric Forge, he'd only gotten a twenty-five point buff.

Still potent, but not enough to change the course of battle.

He knew that his new class evolution, Knight of the Hartwood, would inflate his attributes even more. After all, it promised six points per level in strength and dexterity, five in ethera and regeneration, with seven in constitution. As a Legendary class, that was normal – if such a descriptor applied to such a rare achievement.

But if he was honest, he was more interested in the new abilities he might gain. He knew his current spells were powerful. He'd used them often enough to recognize that much, at least. However, he also wanted more. Not for his own sake, but because he knew as well as anyone what dangers lay before them.

He also found the name of his class curious. It wasn't difficult to determine its dual origin, either. Hartwood referred both to his uncle's grove as well as Miguel's bond with Trevor, who'd run ahead to see his family. After all, hart was just another word for stag.

The grove didn't actually have a name, as far as Miguel knew. It seemed that the system had decided it needed one – at least according to his class name. It fit, though he couldn't help but wonder what Elijah would think about it.

Finally, he considered his cultivation. He'd hit something of a roadblock before heading into the Chimeric Forge, and his time in the Primal Realm hadn't changed that. Otherwise, he might have waited to choose his class evolution and ascend. However, he decided against that strategy, largely because he didn't think he'd make any appreciable strides in that arena before ascending.

Those thoughts accompanied him as he rowed the boat toward the dock, where he soon saw Elijah waiting for them. Nerthus stood near the woodline, clearly preferring to stay away from the saltwater he seemed to loathe so much. Soon enough, they reached the dock, and Carmen tossed a line to Elijah. He tied it off, and everyone finally disembarked.

"You've all gained some levels," he said. "Good deal."

"That all you got to say?" demanded Kurik. "No, 'welcome back'? No, 'glad you ain't gone and got yourselves killed?'. Just good job on gettin' stronger?"

Elijah let out a soft chuckle. "Welcome back. Glad you didn't get yourself killed."

Kurik harumphed. For her part, Carmen gave Elijah a big hug, lifting him off his feet. When she let him go, she said, "I can't believe you did that alone. That place is an absolute nightmare."

"Good for leveling," Miguel said. "Notice something different?"

Elijah narrowed his eyes. "You ascended!" he exclaimed, giving Miguel a hug. A piece of his armor fell off under his grip. Not because Elijah used too much pressure, but because its integrity had been greatly compromised, and to the point where it didn't even provide any attributes. At least his sword had held up, though. "When? What class did you get? What rarity? Is it cool?"

Miguel nearly wilted under the barrage, not least because Elijah's presence was so overbearing. And when he got excited, the ambient ethera grew even more overwhelming. It was likely he didn't even notice it happening, but Miguel couldn't help but wonder if his uncle knew about his flashing eyes. They didn't precisely glow, but there was definitely the sensation that they should have. Combined with the reptilian nature of those eyes – and the emerald scales – it was obvious that Elijah was different from everyone else.

Miguel felt something similar, but to a lesser degree, with Sadie. Part of it was sheer power, but the fact that Oscar nor any of the dogs felt the same was telling.

"It's called Knight of the Hartwood," Miguel answered. "I think…I think that might be what the system is calling your grove now. Plus Trevor. And it's Legendary."

For a moment, Elijah looked surprised, but that only lasted for a second before he responded, "Hartwood? That…I think I like it. Hartwood. And Legendary? That's amazing!" He narrowed his eyes, then asked, almost conspiratorially, "But is it cool?"

Miguel answered, "I think so. It seemed like a direct evolution of Green Warden, which fits me."

He still wondered what his path might've looked like had he chosen the Champion class, but he was still happy with his decision. Green Warden fit, and as a result, so did Knight of the Hartwood.

"That's awesome!" Elijah said, obviously happy with Miguel's choice. Or maybe he was just happy that Miguel was happy. Sometimes, it was hard to tell the difference there.

In any case, they spent the next few minutes catching up, with Kurik downplaying his involvement. For Miguel's part, he remained mostly silent. Often, he still felt like a child among adults, so it was easier to let them do the talking.

Of course, if the world hadn't changed, he'd still be considered a minor, though only just.

Regardless, the reunion was cathartic in a way Miguel hadn't expected it to be. Part of that was the fact that Elijah clearly wanted everyone to feel welcome, but there was also an element of belonging that came with being back in the grove. Miguel knew that was his place, and a part of him wanted nothing more than to remain there.

That was the purpose of his class, after all.

Yet, desperate times called for desperate action. He couldn't afford to sit in his grove, protecting it like the sentry he was meant to be. Just like Elijah couldn't play the role of a normal Druid, Miguel was forced to go out into the world and gain levels as quickly as possible. Anything else, and Earth might fall into the abyss.

So, as happy as he was with his progress, he knew it was only the beginning. He couldn't rest until Earth was safe. And even when they managed to avoid excisement – and they would, he was certain – there would be other threats against which he needed to guard.

With that in mind, he was elated to find that Elijah had finally decided to officially expand the grove. There was going to be a ceremony to induct all the new members into the fold.

But if Miguel was honest, he was most worried about one person, who arrived only twenty or so minutes after their return. Originally, he had intended to drop his comrades off at the dock, then immediately turn back toward Ironshore, but he'd gotten caught up in events.

The moment he saw Hope, though, all other concerns faded.

Before he knew what was happening, he had her in his arms. Their lips came together, and for a moment, Miguel forgot everything else about the world. In that brief instant, they were the only two people that mattered.

Of course, when they broke away, that faded.

"Bit awkward, ain't it?" muttered Kurik.

That was when Miguel realized they had an audience. That same realization clearly occurred to Hope as well, as evidenced by her reddening complexion. Miguel set her down.

Thankfully, Hope was a quick thinker, and she quickly dragged him away from everyone else's prying eyes. Soon enough, they were sitting in an idyllic glade. Miguel opened his mouth to speak, but Hope silenced him with a single finger over his lips.

"No talking."

Then, they resumed their kiss, and once again, the fate of the world faded from Miguel's mind, replaced by young love.