Path of Dragons 16 - Chapter 44 - Cornered (Patreon)

“Stop pacing.”

Elijah ignored Imal’s concerned request and continued along.  He’d only been back inside the Vengeance for a couple of hours, and already, he needed to leave.  And for multiple reasons.

The first was simple enough – the war with the orcs continued.  Despite having killed more than he could count, Elijah knew that he’d barely made a dent in their overall capacity to wage war.  Mostly, that was because the majority of those casualties had been the weakest among the orcish population.  And while the loss would definitely impact their future, it did little to affect their combat capability. 

Knowing that they were out there, steadily hammering against the Vengeance’s defenses, left Elijah feeling a degree of guilt he hadn’t expected.  After all, he’d done more to preserve the dragons’ lives than anyone else in Orveth Kaal.  Maybe in the history of the ancestral world.  Yet, he’d not finished the job, and now he was taking a break?

That left him feeling incredibly anxious.

The second reason he couldn’t stop pacing hit a little closer to home.  The situation inside the Vengeance had not improved during his absence.  According to Imal, barely a day went by that didn’t see a fight amongst them.  There had even been a few more deaths.  Some by assassins.  Some after picking a fight with the wrong person.  And a handful of people had simply disappeared, never to be seen again.

It was a madness wrought by the pride of dragons combined with the natural tension that came from enduring a siege. 

Imal hadn’t said as much, but Elijah also knew that most of the other combatants resented him.  Not because he was out there risking his life – they didn’t care about that.  Rather, they thought he had engineered the entire situation so he could monopolize the experience. 

Or that was what the rumors suggested.

It didn’t help that Elijah was so far ahead in the rankings that no one else stood a chance of catching him, even if they added two or three trials together.  The next closest was Cyran, who’d remained frustratingly silent.  Outwardly, he was a perfect soldier.  He participated in the defense, spending long hours in the towers where he put his wind attunement to good use. 

But Elijah still didn’t trust him.

Other than Elijah, the only people allowed outside were stealth specialists like Palikina and a few Explorers who served to mark targets for the cannoneers.  Everyone else remained inside the Vengeance, where they contributed to the boiling tension that had encapsulated the entire ship.

Finally, there were the doubts that had followed him for the past two months.  More than once, he’d been reminded that Ok’tarik was no normal orc.  If they fought again, Elijah felt almost certain that he would die.  That constant stress had pushed him to the edge, and even though he was relatively safe inside the ship, Elijah couldn’t escape the resultant anxiety.

So he paced.

And Imal, sitting on the bed, watched.

“Sit down, Elijah.”

“I can’t,” he admitted with a sigh.  “Are these people really this stupid?”

“Yes.”

“Do you even know what people I’m talking about?”

“Not really, but it doesn’t matter.  The answer is always going to be yes,” she explained.

It made sense, in a depressing sort of way.  No matter how evolved people became, their stupidity tended to come to the fore, often in the most self-destructive ways.  But in this case, Elijah was talking about the dragons.  All they had to do was work together and stop trying to kill one another.

Yet, they couldn’t even do that.

“Did I tell you that another one tried to kill me?” Elijah asked.

She shook her head.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Elijah remarked. “Or concerned.”

“I’m not,” Imal replied.  “You’re obviously fine.  And just as obviously, we can’t stop it.  There are so many people here who hate you.  It’s a miracle they haven’t tried to kill you more often.  The only reason they haven’t is because you’re the only thing standing between us and total annihilation at the hands of the orcs.”

Elijah sat next to her, quipping, “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

But his heart wasn’t in it.  He was too mentally exhausted for banter.

Imal seemed to understand that, so just shifted closer to him and pulled his head into her lap.  The closeness of her was enough to make everything feel like it would work out.  It didn’t last, though.  It couldn’t.  Not in the face of everything else.

As Imal’s fingers snaked through his curly hair, she hummed a soft tune.  It was relaxing enough that, for the first time in more than eight weeks, he truly relaxed.  Inevitably, that ended up with him drifting off into unconsciousness.

Thankfully, he didn’t dream.

When he awoke, he realized that someone – clearly Imal – had cleaned him up and tucked him into bed.  However, she wasn’t around.  What’s more, Elijah was still tired. So, nestled in those warm blankets, he let himself go back to sleep.

In the end, it was another two days before he got out of bed, and when he did, he felt like an entirely new man. 

After stretching, he stepped into the bathroom and summoned a storm via Blessing of the Grove.  Even as the water washed away the sweat of two days’ worth of sleep, he considered his next move.  By the time he got out, he knew what he needed to do. 

The first step was to enjoy a cup of coffee, which he savored while thinking everything else through.  When he finished, he had things mostly worked out.

That was when Imal returned, and they continued to discuss the course of action.

“You think it’ll work?” she asked.

Elijah shrugged.  “There’s no way to know.  But if it doesn’t…”

“I know.”

“Run.  Get the others and run.  Don’t stop until you get to Fungee.”

That was the contingency plan, and it hinged on two things.  The first was their ability to hijack one of the orcish ships, which they’d proven was possible on multiple occasions.  After all, the Vengeance used their ethereal engines for power. 

But the second part was a little less settled.  Fungee should accept them.  He was smart enough to remember Imal.  But with a fungus, it was difficult to say for sure.  Either way, they would be far safer there than they would be staying in the Vengeance.

Of course, that was only if everything fell apart. 

They spent a few more hours together, during which time they enjoyed a meal and forced themselves to talk about everything but what was coming.  It wasn’t that they didn’t want to confront it.  Rather, they’d already discussed it more times than either of them could rightly count. 

There was no point in beating a dead horse.

Finally, Elijah said his goodbye and headed to the hatch.  There, he found Cyran waiting on him.

“You understand what I need you to do, right?” Elijah asked.

Cyran nodded. “I do.”

“Good.  Wait for the right time.”

“I know the plan.”

Elijah just nodded and pushed past Cyran.  However, the other dragon grabbed his arm before he could reach the hatch.  Elijah just turned his head.  “What?”

“I just wanted you to know…this is a very brave thing.  The others, they talk about going out there and getting experience.  They want to progress, and I don’t blame them.  But there’s not a single one of them that would do it alone.  They aren’t cowards, but they aren’t brave, either.  You are.”

Elijah just stared at Cyran, not knowing how he was meant to respond.  On the one hand, he still loathed the air-attuned dragon.  But on the other, he could appreciate his statement for the spirit in which it had been given.

Either way, he just nodded and pulled away.  A second later, he was back outside.

Thankfully, no orcs were nearby, so Elijah wasn’t forced to waste any time before shifting into the Shape of Withering and adopting Guise of the Stalker.  The moment the transformation completed, he summoned an updraft that he rode into the upper atmosphere.

Once he was up there, he surveyed the fleet.

The orcs had settled in, with many of the ships having tied off to crudely carved stones encircling the sky island.  They were packed together, with little room between them.  As a result, they clacked together, filling the air with the sound of thousands of collisions. 

Elijah flew forward, running a circle around the island.  He didn’t use Cloud of Decay or Plagueburst.  That wasn’t the point.  Rather, he was on a reconnaissance mission.  So, he searched in ever-expanding circles until, at last, he saw what he sought.

Ok’tarik’s warship was different than all the others, and in more ways than simple size.  It was the largest vessel in the fleet, but what made it truly unique was the design, which stretched more the seven stories.  Doubtless, it could carry hundreds of thousands of orcish warriors.

Elijah landed above the captain’s quarters, which were located near the back of the ship.  The second his claws touched the ground, he knew he was in the right place.  Ok’tarik was inside.  He could feel the orc blazing with power, and so strongly that the atmospheric ethera practically vibrated.

There were also multiple other powerful signals coming from inside, though Elijah couldn’t feel any details.  He already knew that the ships blocked Soul of the Wild, but he was surprised at the potency of whatever enchantment they’d used.  That orcs were capable of such a feat was impressive, and it made Elijah doubt the widely accepted appraisal of orcs as primitives.

Still, now that he’d verified Ok’tarik’s location, he threw himself upward and headed toward a different part of the fleet.  He took his time, mostly so that he could reset his mind and get ready for what was coming.  In addition, he wove his soul through Guise of the Stalker – just a sliver, but enough that he hoped it would make the difference he needed. 

When he finally reached his destination on the other side of the fleet, he let loose with Cloud of Decay.  At the same time, he started peppering the armada with one Plagueburst after another. 

The orcs responded, with a glider team taking to the air within seconds.  However, he cut off Cloud of Decay and his barrage of Plaguebursts before they got anywhere close.  Like that, he was undetectable – especially with a bit of his soul woven through his stealth ability.

Then, he settled in to circle and wait.

His plan was based on past experience.  Anytime the orcs detected his presence, it wasn’t long before Ok’tarik showed up.  How he knew, Elijah had no idea.  But it was clear that he had some way to communicate with the other orcs across vast distances.

Another bit of evidence that they were more advanced than anyone ever gave them credit for.

Elijah circled like a vulture, ready to attack at any moment. 

Then, his patience paid off when he saw a familiar form bounding across the fleet, his feet never hitting solid ground.  Instead, tiny flashes of ethera blossomed beneath the orc’s soles. 

Ok’tarik arrived with gusto, slamming down on the deck and shaking it like it was under the influence of an earthquake.  The other orcs cringed away as he demanded information.  One of the smaller orcs reported what Elijah expected – that he’d been spotted somewhere up above.

But by that point, Elijah had already begun his attack.

He summoned Phase Shift, then used Plagueburst.  Once.  Twice.  Three times.  He didn’t stop until nine balls of roiling poison were in the air.  They each fell in succession, each of them infused with a tiny bit of Elijah’s soul.  Just as undetectable as he was, the clones all mimicked his actions. 

It was a true barrage unlike any he’d ever conjured.

And in its wake, Elijah dove, activating Falling Talon along the way.

He set his jaw and braced for impact.