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The dense ethera of the grove washed over Elijah as he reappeared on his island.  Sometimes, it was easy to forget just how thick it was compared to the rest of the world.  When he was elsewhere, he barely even noticed the lack.  However, the moment he returned to the grove, it was like swimming in a soothing ocean of vital energy.  He let out a sigh as he looked around the grove.

Much of it was the same, though his eyes were drawn to the area dedicated to his coffee trees.  They’d continued to grow, reaching a height of almost fifty feet, which was enormous for that species of tree.  That didn’t seem out of the ordinary, though.  Elijah’s grove berries had started off as bunchberries, but the thick ethera and both his and Nerthus’ ministrations had transformed them into something else entirely.  The same was true of all the other plants in the grove as well.  Some had simply grown much larger than normal, but others had mutated even more than the berries. 

Either way, it all felt appropriate.  Natural.  And that was what truly mattered.

Sensing Nerthus on the other side of the grove, Elijah crossed the intervening space to find the spryggen tending to a dozen artificial beehives.  They resembled the hives he’d seen before Earth’s transformation, though instead of being made of unimaginative particle board or the like, these new hives had been grown much like Elijah’s treehouse.  Shaped like acorns, they looked like functional works of art, especially with tens of thousands of fat honeybees swarming the area. 

One landed on Elijah’s outstretched hand, and he was surprised to see that it was around fifty percent larger than a normal honeybee, which meant it was about an inch-and-a-half long.  In fact, with its fuzzy body and curious nature, it looked almost like a cartoon version of the familiar insects. 

“They are quite friendly,” Nerthus said without looking up.  “I chose these hives specifically for that reason.”

“Nerthus, this is amazing,” Elijah responded with no small degree of awe.  “You’ve outdone yourself.  Really.”

“The child likes the bees as well,” Nerthus said.  “He has an incredible affinity for animals.”

“I’ve noticed that they tolerate him a lot more than they do with most people,” Elijah admitted.  “I thought it had to do with him not having an archetype yet.  Maybe they can sense that he isn’t a threat to them or something.”

“Perhaps,” Nerthus conceded.  “Yet, I think it is more than that.  It will be interesting to see what archetypes and classes he is offered.  He may even have the chance to become a Druid as well.”

“Do you think that would be wise?”

“Of course,” Nerthus said, finally looking back at Elijah.  “Druids are the most powerful archetype in existence.”

“Uh…not everybody thinks that,” Elijah said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “In fact, I’ve met a few people who think the opposite.  Well, that’s not exactly true.  Nobody thinks Druids aren’t strong.  It’s just that I get the impression that most Druids are borderline non-combatants.”

“Ah.  That is true.  Strength comes in many forms, though.  There are whole worlds tended to be Druids.  Beautiful places where everything exists in perfect harmony.  Anything that threatens that balance is eradicated.  Is that not power?”

Elijah nodded.  He knew that his archetype was not meant to be the strongest in combat.  Even his attribute bonuses were not on par with some others, and his repertoire of spells lacked focus.  That wasn’t difficult to understand, given that a good portion of the archetype seemed focused on non-combat abilities like healing, Nature’s Bounty, or One with Nature.  Though the third had some combat applications, it was clearly meant to help a Druid to connect with the source of his power.  Or the balance he was meant to protect. 

Regardless, Elijah had circumvented many of those inadequacies by choosing a distinctly combat-focused class.  And he’d managed to shore up his attribute deficiencies with cultivation.  However, he did realize that those were only band-aids that didn’t truly fix the problem. 

So, he asked, “What does progression look like for me?  I know that I’ll have a chance for specialization in a few levels.  Then, I’ll get to evolve my class, too.  But what does that mean?”

“It means that you will be able to correct your path to better align with your goals,” Nerthus stated.  “If you wish for more combat power, that will be available via an evolution.  Or if you want to focus more on the grove, that will be as well.  The system will provide options based on your actions as well as how it interprets your suitability.”

“Will I lose any of my current abilities?”

“No.  When those abilities evolve, the options will align with your new direction, though.  For instance, if you were to choose to focus on healing, then some of your combat spells might develop an additional effect that assists in that function,” Nerthus explained.  “Though it should be said that no spell, even after many evolutions, will completely change its nature.  A damaging spell will always be a damaging spell.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Of course.  The system was created by the twelve most powerful beings to have ever existed, all working in concert to ease the burden of progression.  It is not self-aware, but it is reactive and complex beyond our comprehension,” Nerthus stated.

“What was it like before?”

“Those days are lost in darkness.  Only vague stories remain, and the truth is obscured by time.”

Elijah nodded.  Even humanity lacked a true vision of the past, and that history was far shorter than the scale of what Nerthus had described.  Elijah asked, “And this system is benevolent?”

“It is neutral.  It does not judge.  Instead, it only guides.  The purpose is benevolent, though.” 

“I see,” Elijah said, though he had difficulty wrapping his thoughts around the sheer scope of it all.  Regardless, he didn’t have the free time to spend contemplating the nature of the multi-verse or the system.  Instead, he had more grounded issues to worry about.  So, after only a few more minutes, during which he let Nerthus explain the progress of the rest of the grove, Elijah explained what he wanted from Nerthus. 

“Has the tree produced any other seeds?” he asked.

“Three others.  Though more should grow over the next few years,” Nerthus answered.  “Why?”

“I need one.”

Then, Elijah explained why he wanted one of the ancestral tree’s seeds.  Once he understood what Elijah had planned, Nerthus gave his approval and gathered the seed in question. 

After that, Elijah set off for Ironshore, using Shape of the Sky to cover the distance in a little more than a minute.  He landed in Druid’s Park, startling a few children.  Oddly enough, though, they did not fear him.  Rather, they were simply shocked by his sudden landing.  Apparently, news of his new form had spread through the town. 

Elijah took a few minutes to ensure that the tree was healthy, and once he was satisfied, he started toward Carmen’s forge, arriving after only a few more minutes.  When he stepped inside, he saw her hammering away at a bar of glowing metal.  For the first time since their reunion, she wore a genuine smile upon her face. 

There were a few other people around.  Most were dwarves, but Elijah saw a couple of gnomes and a single goblin as well.  The smithy itself was quite impressive, with enough room to accommodate a few dozen Blacksmiths.  However, Elijah quickly noticed a couple of things about the workers.  First, they were all incredibly young, probably having only attained their archetypes recently.  Second, none of them were actually forging anything.  Instead, they were helping with the smelting process, working bellows, or doing other grunt work. 

“You can’t be in here, fella,” said one of the dwarves.  His red beard was only an inch long, but his shoulders were wide and muscular.  “If you’re wantin’ ta commission somethin’, you’ll have to talk to Miss Corie down at the shop.”

Elijah just stared at the young dwarf, then shook his head before continuing into the building. 

“Hey!  I said you can’t –”

Someone reached over to grab the would-be smith, whispering something rendered unintelligible by the activity within the smithy.  Elijah was both pleased and a little saddened when the dwarf’s face paled before he took a step back.  Apparently, Elijah’s reputation had preceded him.

With a sigh, he continued on until he reached Carmen.  “Whatcha makin’?” he asked, leaning forward.

She started, clearly surprised to find Elijah standing next to her.  Patting her chest, she breathed, “You scared the hell out of me.  What are you doing here?  Is it done?”

Elijah nodded.  “It’s done.  Do you want to hear the whole story?” he asked.

Carmen said that she did, and after that, they retreated to the small office she’d attached to the smithy.  Once there, Elijah laid out the whole story, including running into the harpies, finding the records, and killing both Laramie and Fiona.  When he described the fight with Roman, he only hit the high points, ending with, “After that, I…I went on a rampage.  I killed hundreds of guards.”

That was a bit of a lie.  In reality, he’d slaughtered more than a thousand.  But Carmen didn’t need to know that.

“When I left the city, the battle was still going on.  I don’t know who won.”

“Nobody,” Carmen said with a shake of her head.  She slumped in her chair, adding, “So, it’s over?”

“Not yet,” Elijah said.  “I’m done killing, but there’s one more thing we need to do.”

Then, he told her about the project he’d begun.  For the most part, Carmen took to the idea pretty well, though it clearly made her a little uncomfortable.  Still, when Elijiah asked her to come with him back to Argos, she agreed. 

“I need to go find Miguel,” Elijah said.  “Do you know where he is?”

“Off in the wilderness with Kurik,” Carmen answered.  “Colt’s with them, too.  He said he wanted to shore up his own woodcraft, but I think he just wants to make sure Miguel doesn’t forget his sword training.  If you ask me, he and the dwarf are competing to see who can pass more knowledge onto my son.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

Carmen shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I worry about him being stretched too thin.  But he enjoys all of it.  You should hear him going on and on about all the things he’s seen,” she said.  “Or about sword forms.  God.  If I have to hear him explain the minute differences between stances one more time…”

Elijah forced a laugh.  That was one of the more relatable aspects of Miguel’s training.  “When I used to box, I’d talk my dad’s ear off about everything I learned,” he said.  “It’s a good thing.  It means he’s engaged.”

“I hope so.  I still don’t know what to think about all of this,” she admitted.  “I know he needs to be able to take care of himself.  I know he wants power.  And I know why.  But every time I see him learning how to kill, I feel like a failure as a parent.  I mean, it really wasn’t that long ago that we were telling him that violence never solved anything.  So naïve.”

“It was a different world, Carmen,” Elijah said, reaching out to grip her shoulder.  She flinched a little at his touch, evidence that she hadn’t completely recovered from her own ordeal.  “But just because he can kill doesn’t mean he will.  Restraint is what separates the good ones from the bad.”

“Is it?” she asked.  “Does that apply to you?”

“It does,” Elijah answered. 

“Which side do you fall on?” she persisted.  Clearly, she thought she knew the answer.  “You didn’t practice much restraint in Easton, did you?”

“I asked myself that same question,” Elijah admitted, pulling away and pacing to the other side of the room.  “And the only answer I came up with was that yes, I restrained myself.  Do you know how I know that?”

Carmen shook her head.

“Because there were survivors,” Elijah stated.  Indeed, he’d wanted to kill every person in the city.  His instincts screamed at him to do so.  And failing that, at least everyone associated with the corrupt government Roman had created.  But he hadn’t.  Sure, he’d killed thousands, but if he’d given in to his instincts, that number would have been in the tens of thousands.  To him, that felt like restraint.  Still, that did nothing to assuage his guilt.  So, he said, “I’m going to find Miguel.  I hope to leave tomorrow morning, if that’s okay with you.”

Then, without another word, he strode toward the door.  He could feel Carmen’s gaze following him the whole way, though. 

Comments

viisitingfan

I feel like a LOT of people are forgetting the entire point of his archetype. He is Wild. Nature is utterly ruthless, and while it is balanced, it is only balanced because it is an ancient, eons old war fought to a bitter stalemate on every level, which we now call 'biological niches.'

Bat

Yep. That was restraint. Could have easily killed way more people.