Path of Dragons

Tears fell upon the upturned stone face, then traced lines down the misshapen cheeks to disappear from Elijah’s sight. He knew it wasn’t his sister. In truth, it barely even resembled her. But in his fragile state, it felt like he was holding the real thing. Like he’d never left home. Like he’d never let her die.

“It should have been me,” he muttered, guilt washing over him. With grief – fresh and hot – twisting his thoughts, it felt like he’d traded his death for hers, all those months ago. And he desperately wished it were otherwise. She was the better person. She was stronger, more empathetic. She’d tried to change the world for the better. Meanwhile, Elijah had spent years playing with fish.

Perhaps it would have been different if he’d done so in an effort to achieve some goal, but with the benefit of hindsight, he knew that was never the case. Back then, he was just passing the time, riding the wave of momentum as he waited for something to happen. For something to change.

And it had.

He’d managed to not only survive, but also thrive. But at the same time, Alyssa had done what she’d always done – stand up for people who couldn’t stand up for themselves. And she’d been killed for it.

It just wasn’t fair.

For a long time, those thoughts gripped Elijah as he knelt in the center of that square, surrounded by the ghastly fruits of his labor. Dead bodies – ripped and torn and dismembered – carpeted the paving stones, proof of his lost restraint. He’d always intended to kill them. They deserved it, as far as he was concerned. However, he hadn’t meant to lose himself in the process. But with his roiling emotions, his savage instincts had taken over, and he hadn’t even tried to hold them back.

The results were obvious.

Finally, Elijah picked himself up. Suddenly, he didn’t care about Valoria’s fate. Even as dawn approached, the battle still raged. Despite his efforts, thousands of soldiers remained at large, and they were stronger and better equipped than the rebels. More, they were accompanied by the aristocratic sycophants who’d enabled the entire government.

Or perhaps those insurrectionists would win the day.

Elijah simply didn’t care anymore. His battle lust had been sated, and now, he only wanted to leave the cesspool that represented everything that was wrong with humanity behind. But he didn’t intend to abandon his sister.

So, he gathered the ropes that had been used to topple the statue, then spent a little more than an hour weaving together a net. He’d done much the same hundreds of times back on his island, both with nets and baskets, so he had plenty of experience to see him through to the end. And with his high Dexterity, the task was trivial.

Once he’d finished the process, he laid it out and lined it with clothes he stripped from the bodies all around him. All were soaked in blood, but Elijah didn’t care.

As he worked, plenty of people stumbled upon the site, but they kept their distance. No one – be they rebels or soldiers – wanted anything to do with what had happened in that square. There was nothing to suggest that Elijah was the author of so much carnage, but none were willing to chance it. So, he was left alone to finish his work.

After the net had been lined with clothes, Elijah embarked upon the task of gathering the remains of the statue and loading the pieces onto the net. Then, when that was finished, he tied it all together before hefting it onto his shoulder.

The entire thing weighed more than a ton, which wouldn’t have been so arduous a weight in his Guardian form. Yet, he refused to shift. Partially, that was because he was afraid of revisiting the savage fury that had engulfed him, but it was also a self-imposed penance. Deserved it or not, Elijah still felt guilty for everything that had happened, and in the back of his mind, he felt that the hardship represented by remaining in his human form would somehow atone for his perceived failures.

Of course, Elijah knew – somewhere deep down – that it was not warranted. Yet, he was in no frame of mind to acknowledge that reality. So, once he’d hefted the makeshift bundle onto his back, he began his journey out of the city.

As he walked the streets, he passed many ongoing battles. Most ignored him, but every now and then, someone would try to attack. Elijah was ruthless in his responses, aiming Storm’s Fury at anyone he drew close. It was the very first spell he’d ever gotten, and often, he neglected its use because, against anything that was near his level, the damage it could do was negligible. But when aimed at people less than half his level, and without the benefit of strong cultivation? It was deadly.

More importantly, he could cast it hundreds of times before running low on ethera, and even then, he could nearly keep up with that strain if he flexed his Mind.

So, as he traversed the streets of the city, Elijah became a walking thunderstorm of death. Often, he took hits, but he ignored them as he used Healing Rain and Sooth to mend his injuries. That, as much as the lightning, deterred most would-be assailants. Elijah knew from experience how disorienting it was to see someone’s mortal wounds mend in seconds.

All the while, he never stopped moving forward.

At some point, he left the city behind. He wasn’t certain when he’d made the choice not to use any of his unique advantages, but he was more than five miles outside of Valoria when he realized that he had no intention of flying, teleporting, or shifting into his other forms that might ease the burden of travel.

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Instead, Elijah’s penance had become something of a pilgrimage. An exodus meant to assuage his guilt while honoring his sister. More of the former than the latter, if he was honest with himself. Alyssa would have likely called him a dramatic idiot.

She was always more level-headed than he was, anyway. Practical in a way that he could never match. And the world was a worse place now that she was gone.

As Elijah trudged through the wilderness, he ignored all distractions. He also refused to stop, even for a moment, to rest. Instead, he continued to put one foot in front of the other, and when he grew too fatigued to take another step, he ate one of his grove berries to recover his energy.

With every step, Elijah conjured a new memory of his sister. Some were good, like when she’d helped him choose an outfit for his first date with Lucy. He’d never been particularly adept when it came to style, so she’d taken pity on him, ensuring that he put his best foot forward in his first forays into love. Some were bad, like one of the many times they’d argued over some triviality that, in retrospect, hadn’t mattered at all.

But they were all part of who Alyssa had been. A part of the relationship they’d shared. For most of their childhood, they’d been close, and Elijah had a wealth of memories to draw upon.

And as he strode across the wilderness, he sank into an almost meditative trance, remembering everything in the most vivid details. As the days went by, he often found tears streaming down his cheeks.

They seemed appropriate.

At times, he encountered a few Voxx trails that he expected would either lead to spontaneously manifesting invaders or even interdimensional rifts. Yet, for the first time ever, he ignored them. As usual, the wildlife left him alone. He even sensed a few nearby monsters at one point, but they were content to let him continue on his way.

Days turned into a week, and eventually, Eliijah lost track of time. Passing time blended together until he could barely discern one from the next. He never stopped – even at night – and more than once, he was forced to cross rivers or canyons. Those were difficult, though with his high attributes and equipment like the Ring of Aquatic Travel, he managed it just the same.

Until, at last, he reached the destination he didn’t even know he was traveling toward.

The Circle of Spears loomed before him, surrounding a verdant oasis that teemed with the sense of nature. He’d been in the desert for a while, though he barely took notice of the arid landscape. The only concession he made to the terrain was that he was forced to slake his thirst a little more often. Fortunately, the Everlasting Canteen held hundreds of gallons of water, which meant that he had plenty.

When he reached the dolmen, passing between the monuments he’d built, he finally let his burden fall away. It thudded to the ground, and Elijah fell soon after.

After weeks on his feet, he could no longer stand. Even with his inflated attributes, his body had distinct limits, and he’d far exceeded them. Now that he’d found his destination, though, he let the impact of the journey fall upon his shoulders. He didn’t precisely pass into unconsciousness. Instead, for the longest time, his state stood somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, daydreaming about the memories he’d examined along the way.

In addition, an idea began to take shape. A way to honor his sister’s memory and her intent at the same time. It was only the seed of a notion, but as Elijah lay there, it began to sprout into something far more substantial. In a lot of ways, it was a fever dream brought on by extreme exhaustion and borderline malnutrition.

But there was inspiration there, too.

A desire to get things right.

To make up for all the things he’d gotten wrong in his life.

For a while, he dipped in and out of unconsciousness. In a lot of ways, he was lucky he hadn’t collapsed sooner. If he had, he probably would not have survived. However, the thick ethera – and vitality – of the oasis nourished him. It didn’t precisely heal him, but it was distinctly better than anywhere else outside of his island.

At one point, he imagined Alyssa there with him, comforting him as she always had. He tried to return the favor, but she dissipated the moment he attempted to focus on her. Even at the height of his exhaustion-based delusion, Elijah knew it wasn’t real. But there was a chance, wasn’t there? Magic existed. So, why couldn’t ghosts?

Perhaps she had even ended up as one of the tower denizens? What if she could earn her way to resurrection?

A thousand possibilities – each less likely than the next – flitted through Elijah’s mind. And even though he knew none of them were real – dead was dead, even with the existence of magic; every guide he’d read was adamant about that reality – he clung to those dreams.

Then, at last, he regained his full faculties.

Sitting up, he looked around the oasis. It was even more verdant than it had been when he and Carmen had built the dolmen, and it was packed full of so much life that it almost seemed a tangible thing. That had attracted plenty of animals as well. From fat insects to reptiles, and everything in between.

And of course, Snappy remained in the pond at its center, happily living his life, completely uncomprehending of the internal crisis Elijah had just experienced. In a way, it was comforting, knowing that no matter what hardships or tragedies he went through, nature would continue on.

Over the next few minutes, Elijiah took stock of his body. He’d lost weight. Maybe fifteen pounds, which didn’t seem like a lot, but considering that he hadn’t exactly been heavy to begin with, it made quite a difference in his body. More, he was covered in the consequences of his trek across hundreds of miles, with half-healed wounds from his time in Valoria marring his form. There were sores along his shoulders where the ropes had dug into his flesh, too.

So, Elijah cast Soothe on himself before summoning Healing Rain. Then, for good measure, he flared Nature’s Bounty as he undressed. The clothes were ruined. Despite being Simple-Grade, their materials weren’t up to the rigors he’d endured, so he’d decided to exchange them for a different set.

After that, he retrieved his homemade restorative soap from his satchel and began to bathe. Where the soap went, healthy skin followed until, nearly twenty minutes later, Elijah was more refreshed than he’d been since leaving his grove.

Once he was clean and in much better condition, Elijah once again took up his burden, then used Roots of the World Tree to teleport to the Dragon Circle. Of all the cities he’d visited, Argos was the only place that deserved what he had planned.

Elijah knew that he could have simply teleported straight from Valoria to his ultimate destination. However, the journey had been important. A necessary thing meant for self-reflection and remembrance.

And penance.

It was a pilgrimage, though not in service of any god. Instead, it was meant to honor the sister he’d lost. Now, he intended to create a more lasting monument to the person she had been.

So, after adjusting the awkward burden he’d carried for countless miles, he set off for Argos, hoping that he could find what he needed in the city.

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