Path of Dragons 16 - Chapter 22 - Meaning (Patreon)

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Elijah.”

“What?”

“You know you’re a terrible liar, right?”

“I’m a great liar!” Elijah insisted.  Then, he looked away from Imal and scanned the rest of the group.  Everyone was there.  Bogoni.  Palikina.  Imal, of course.  Okar and Furyo, too.  Kalyn as well.  Hira sat nearby, while the two Healers – Corin and Dek – leaned against an overturned log, making no secret of their status as a couple.

And they were all looking at him like he’d just said the most ridiculous thing possible.

“You’re a lot of things,” Imal said, leaning close and patting him on the hand.  “But you are not a fundamentally deceptive person.”

Elijah’s jaw dropped.

“That might be the most hurtful thing anyone’s said to me,” he muttered.

She leaned closer.  “It’s a good thing.”

“So, we’re all agreed that he caused the quake, right?” Okar said, cutting through the rest of the conversation and getting back on track.

“Definitely.”

“For sure.”

“I thought that was already decided,” Bogoni pointed out, adding to the chorus of accusations. 

Or that was how Elijah took it.  Did it matter that they were all right? No.  That wasn’t the point.  Instead, he remained focused on the fact that none of them even thought twice about who was responsible.  As if he was always at the center of every calamity.

The tremor that came from his experience in Fungee’s cave had spread across the entire cluster of sky islands.  By the time it reached the Vengeance, it had weakened to a barely noticeable tremble.  However, even that was notable in that the floating mountain was tens of thousands of miles away from Fungee’s cavern.

Elijah had only spent one more day in that cave, and when he’d emerged, he had found a dozen orcish ships investigating the source.  Or rather, he had found what was left of them.  Fungee had already downed the ships with giant tendrils that had played the role usually reserved for the mythological kraken.

Most of the orcs had survived, but not well.  Fungee had weaponized his spores, laying the demigod-tier orcs low.  The deities remained alive and mostly well, but that changed after Elijah blanketed the area in Cloud of Decay.  That took most of them down, so when he finally descended to the ground, finishing them off was less of a fight and more of an extermination.

He’d been rewarded with a little experience, which pushed him forward another level and into four-twenty-four.  Most of that had come from his work with Fungee, which marked the first time he’d gotten a noticeable bump from non-combat Druid activities in some time.  Usually, those tiny streams of experience skated by in the background, fortifying his total without garnering any real attention.

It had also provided a significant number of points for the trial, further separating him from the next closest participant, which was still Cyran.

More importantly, his bond with Fungee had continued to progress, and to the point where he almost felt like he was still standing in that cave.  He couldn’t feel it quite as prominently as he felt his grove, but it wasn’t that far off that high mark, either.

“I still can’t believe you named it Fungee,” remarked Okar. 

Elijah shrugged.  “I thought about naming him Fun-Guy, but there’s no real way to differentiate between that and fungi, so I went with a slight variation,” he explained.  Upon telling them Fungee’s name, they’d all reacted in an altogether unexpected way.  Disdain from Okar.  Disbelief from everyone else. 

It got to the point where he wouldn’t even admit the real reason he’d bestowed that name upon the fungal colony.  In the fourth grade, his teacher had set up an experiment – which wasn’t really an experiment, but rather an observation – where they got to watch bread grow moldy over the course of a week or so.  That had sparked an interest in the organism, and Elijah had begged his parents to take him to the library so he could learn more. 

And at some point during his reading, he’d encountered the word fungi, which he’d incorrectly pronounced the same way he pronounced Fungee’s name.  It wasn’t until during an eager explanation to his sister that she’d told him – barely containing laughter – that he’d been pronouncing it wrong the entire time.

Once he got over the embarrassment of having used that mispronunciation with his parents, the librarian, and anyone else who would listen, Elijah had adjusted.  However, in the back of his mind, the mispronunciation remained rooted in his thoughts.  Every time he saw the word fungi, he internally mispronounced it.

So, Fungee’s name was a throwback to that childhood mistake that had haunted him for years. 

He wasn’t about to tell the others that.  Not when they’d already made fun of him for the name itself.  For what it was worth, Elijah felt it was a great name.  And based on his reaction, Fungee seemed to like it as well, which mattered more than what anyone else thought.

Or that was what he kept telling himself as a twinge of regret soared through his thoughts.

So, he changed the subject, asking about the cell they were meant to cleanse. 

Furyo was the one to answer, explaining that it was the most densely corrupted cell they had encountered since that first one.  At the end, he added, “We think it houses a powerful dragon, but the only way to know for certain is to get in there and look for ourselves.”

“I hope they’re more amenable to the tutorial system than that…other one,” said Bogoni.  He’d tried to seek tutelage from the still-nameless dragon transcendent, and on multiple occasions.  They’d all ended with him being kicked out before he could even ask any questions.

To date, only Elijah had been allowed to remain for more than a second or two, much less been given an answer to any questions.  Those answers were frustratingly vague, but as annoying as that was, he recognized that it was probably necessary.  At least from the transcendent’s perspective, given that he valued the notion of going one’s own way.  Because of that, he probably thought giving too specific of advice would be detrimental to Elijah’s development.

Or maybe he was just a dick.

Both were probably true.

The others continued their discussions as Elijah remained mostly silent.  With Imal leaning close and in the flickering light of a robust campfire, he could almost forget that they were inside an incredibly dangerous ancestral world.

Not quite, but almost. 

The orcs remained a credible threat, even though they’d mostly withdrawn.  On top of that, powerful beasts were always a problem for most groups.  And the cell that was their target would obviously house a powerful source of corruption as well.

“This is actually really nice,” Elijah said once the others had moved away to take shelter in their own respective tents.  He’d volunteered to keep watch, even if Furyo claimed it was unnecessary.  He’d surrounded the campsite with various contraptions meant to both deter the wildlife and to warn the group if something ignored that deterrence. 

“The threat of orcish annihilation really pulls it all together,” Imal responded. 

“I thought it was the rug.”

She pulled away slightly.  “Huh?”

Elijah shook his head.  “I know I’ve said this a lot over the years, but I really need to build a theater into the grove.  That way, people could actually understand my references,” he said.  Then, he tried to explain the plot of The Big Lebowski and failed spectacularly.  “I’m not really a good enough storyteller to do it justice,” he admitted at last. 

“That’s pretty obvious,” Imal agreed.

“Ouch.”

“You prefer I lie about it?” she asked.

Elijah shrugged – an awkward motion, considering he was still holding her close.  “A little fibbing would go a long way to keeping my self-confidence intact.”

She laughed.  “The last thing you need is more self-confidence, Elijah.”

“Touche.”

After that, the pair simply enjoyed one another’s company as well as the setting.  At night, the Bound Sky took on a slightly striated appearance.  It was all just darkness, but with grey and purple layers only discernible via the enhanced vision that came with body cultivation.

Somewhere far below lay the core, casting a subtle ambient light that made it feel more like late dusk than true night.  Either way, that atmosphere combined with the surrounding forest to portray a false sense of peace that Elijah knew would have been quickly broken if he wasn’t there.

Even at that very moment, there were no less than fifteen deity-tier predators in the area.  They ignored the camp, partially because of Furyo’s contraptions but mostly because Elijah was around.  It was one of the perks of being a Druid. 

Not quite as fool-proof as a high-tier Explorer’s abilities, but enough to give them a degree of safety.  If he was alone, it would have been far more effective.

But for once, Elijah was happy that he had others for company.  He’d spent far too much time alone for him to take a simple moment for granted.  Especially with Imal so close.

“Do you think you could be happy with this kind of life?” he asked at last.

She looked up at him.  “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.  Just living for these sorts of moments,” he answered. 

“I think that’s what we’re all doing, isn’t it?”

Elijah shook his head.  “I’m not sure that’s true.  Or at least it’s not universal.”

That was especially the case in a multi-verse where nigh immortality was a real possibility.  So many people focused entirely on that ephemeral goal of getting stronger that they tended to forget about what was really important. 

Some might argue that getting stronger was part of that.  Maybe because it allowed for increased longevity.  Maybe because it gave them the power to fight the Ravener and the other forces of the abyss, thus ensuring that people had a chance to live their lives without the threat of total annihilation hovering over them.

And maybe they were right.

However, Elijah had found – in his relatively short life – that people tended to lose sight of the forest for the trees.  They tended to forget that none of it really mattered without moments like the one in which he currently found himself.

“Where I’m from, people rarely made it past a hundred years old,” he remarked.  “But even then, with that short time available, they focused on all the wrong things.  Power.  Money.  Domination.  The pursuit of fleeting pleasure.”

“And what were the right things?”

Elijah shrugged.  “Family.  Love.  Exploration.  Learning.  I don’t know.  Those are just things I care about, but I think they make up a big part of it.”

“What about leaving a legacy?”

“Will that matter once we’re dead and gone?” he asked.

“I think so,” she answered.  “I want to be remembered.  Not just by friends and family.  I want other serpentors to look up and see me as an example of what they could become.  This world isn’t just for dragons.  It’s for all of us.  We all have a chance to be…worthwhile.”

Elijah shook his head.  “There are a lot of places in the multi-verse where people have never even seen a dragon,” he pointed out. 

“That’s true.”

“You know what this really reminds me of, though?  I spent a while just exploring my planet.  I was looking for my sister at the time, but I saw a lot of beautiful sunsets.  I experienced a lot of incredible things.  This is one of those,” he said.

“Orveth Kaal is an amazing place,” Imal agreed, the firelight flickering across her pale cheeks.

“But do you know what makes it better?” he asked.

She admitted that she didn’t have an answer to that question.

“You.”

Then, Elijah leaned in and kissed her.  After that, it wasn’t long before they retreated into the tent.  It was a bit irresponsible, given his resolution to keep watch, but he figured he could keep one leaf trained on that task.  The rest of his mind remained with Imal.