Path of Dragons 17 - Chapter 17 - Return of the Hunter (Patreon)

Sitting atop the tallest mountain he could find, Elijah let out a sigh.  Was it contentment?  Appreciation?  Some deep-seated self-reprisal given physical presence?

It could have been all of those and more.

But at the moment, he focused on the magnificence of an Orveth Kaal sunset, losing himself in the grandeur of it all.  Of course, there was no sun to set.  Instead, the light came from everywhere all at once.  When night came, it did so in a gradual dimming that briefly made the core visible in the deepest reaches of the ancestral world.

At present, it was far enough away that it presented as nothing more than a vague sense of light.  But Elijah knew that if he drew closer, it would resolve into its actual shape – a giant ball of energy, not unlike a star.  Far dimmer.  Far less powerful, at least on the surface. 

That was by design, though.  Much of its energy was contained within the worldseed, which was hidden beneath the visible shell of the core.  It was a testament to just how magical it was that its ethera made it through that barrier to become visible even from so far away.

That was something most people tended to forget.  Instead, they focused on all the horrible tragedies that had come in the wake of the World Tree’s touch.  The deaths.  The fall of civilizations.  All of it had happened, and their grief was valid. 

But there was another side to the coin. 

One of beauty.  Magnificence.  Of ancient power that made even the strongest among them feel small. 

When Elijah found himself wrestling with the morality of his own actions, he often retreated into the natural world.  He found its majesty comforting, and in a way he sometime struggled to put into words. 

That was why he’d taken his time on his way back to Agmar. 

Not because he wanted to appreciate Orveth Kaal.  He did, but that wasn’t why he kept stopping.  Instead, he did so because he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing.  Of late, he’d found his certainty wavering in the face of a complex world.  Once, he’d killed a group of hunters just because they’d slaughtered a guardian he’d befriended.  Now?  He might’ve sympathized with them, with their need to grow stronger to face off against a dangerous world.

What did that say about him?

As a man, it was probably safe to consider it progress.  But as a Druid?  He had a responsibility to protect the natural world.  And failing that, to avenge it.  Yet, his recent actions ran counter to that goal. 

He didn’t know what to think.  He wasn’t sure how to feel about his actions.  And he certainly didn’t know what it meant for his future as a Druid.

Hence, he found himself sitting atop a mountain and watching an alien sunset while he considered his place in the world. 

Elijah sat there well after darkness had fallen.  Even by morning, he hadn’t arrived at any answers.  So, he simply stood up, resumed the Shape of the World Serpent, and went on his way. 

The rest of his trip went much the same.  At dusk, he would find the most picturesque location available, where he would remain for the entire night, lost in thought.  More than anything, he wanted to just snap out of it.  He wanted a task to focus on.  Something to do.

But try as he might, he couldn’t escape the guilt of what he’d done.

By the time Agmar loomed on the horizon, he’d made no real headway.  Nor did he expect to anytime soon.  Somewhere along the journey, he had come to the conclusion that there were no easy fixes.  He couldn’t just turn away from his own hypocrisy.  Nor could he forgive himself and forget what had happened.  The only hope lay in letting enough time pass that he learned to accept it, learn from it, and move on.

His arrival in Agmar went as he’d expected, which meant that he was received with more fear than excitement.  Elijah ignored it.  Instead, he plunged ahead into what once would’ve been enemy territory and found his way to Ok’tarik’s ship.

It was the largest in the entire fleet, so it was easy to find.  However, it looked much different from the last time Elijah had seen it.  For one, the deck wasn’t covered in shamans.  For another, it floated far above the landmass, where Ok’tarik could look over his orcish kingdom. 

Did it matter that the warchief didn’t consider himself a king?  Not really.  To Elijah, he was more of a messianic figure, anyway.  Ok’tarik was different than the other orcs, and in more ways than his sapience.  If anyone could lead them into a new existence, it was him. 

Elijah landed on the deck, his bare feet thudding against the rough planks.  The crew recoiled at his arrival. The work-slaves among them cringed away, while the fighters seemed ready to issue a challenge but too afraid to actually act.  The rowers – the couple on deck, at least – stared around, their eyes dull and glazed over.

Were there thoughts in there?  Or were they as dim as they looked?

It didn’t take Ok’tarik long to exit his cabin.  Elijah caught a glimpse of the orc’s mate, lying on a bed of furs in the background.  She was a work-slave, little different from any of the others Elijah had seen.  However, Ok’tarik seemed to regard her differently than all the rest.

“You have returned,” he announced.  “Was your hunt successful?”

Elijah nodded.  Then, as he knew was expected, he summoned the termite queen’s crystallized brain and held it high.  A second later, he described the hunt, then the battle through the labyrinthine lair.  And finally, he explained her death.  The story was short, and Elijah did what he could to mimic Ok’tarik’s tone and language.

The other orcs responded to the revelation of Elijah’s hunt, gasping like enraptured children when he got to the more violent parts.  It was obvious what they valued, and Elijah knew enough to play into their preferences.

When he finished, he announced, “This hunt has ended, but there are many more in my future.”

“To the future,” Ok’tarik said, nodding with the statement.

The orcs cheered.

Elijah did his best not to shake his head, but it was more difficult than he expected.  The whole thing reminded him of those performative speeches given by sports coaches in bad movies.  The sort where, at the end, the whole team cheered and went out to beat their rivals with nothing but sheer grit.

This was not one of those situations.

It was more than a simple game.  If he saw his plans through to the end, people were going to die.  A lot of them.  And that wasn’t including the empire’s response. 

Was it worth it?  Elijah wasn’t so sure.  But the reality was that he didn’t know what else to do.  He couldn’t let things slide.  Not now.  Not after everything they’d done.  Not after what he had seen from the Empire of Scale.

As had been the case with the termites, his reasoning was sound.  But could he deal with the ramifications of doing what he’d planned?  Only time would tell, but one thing was certain – he wasn’t going to give in. 

Soon enough, the cheering reached a crescendo, and before Elijah knew what was happening, a celebration broke out.  Within an hour, the entirety of Agmar seemed to have discovered what was going on, and they turned the city into one big party. 

However, it wasn’t like any party Elijah had ever attended.  More often than not, there were fights.  And the orcs seemed to regard the entire thing as a competition.  When Elijah asked Ok’tarik about it, the warchief explained that his people were quarrelsome by nature.  And when they got excited, people tended to die.

He said it as if it was a foregone conclusion.

Perhaps because it was.

In any event, Elijah was also treated to a massive feats.  Enormous haunches roasted over even more massive firepits were the order of the day.  Unsurprisingly, there were no vegetables.  No starches. No breads.  Just meat.

And plenty of alcohol, too.

The stuff was crude and bitter, but it was as close to an approximation of beer as Elijah could have expected.  According to Ok’tarik, there was an entire section of the population devoted to harvesting the wild rye-like crop that grew on a nearby landmass.  And the original builders of Agmar had left a brewing facility behind.

Now, it was manned by dedicated work-slaves.

When Elijah pointed out that they could use that same crop to bake bread, Ok’tarik looked at him like he’d lost his mind.  Apparently, there were no omnivores among the orcs.  Just carnivores. 

The celebration went on for two entire days, during which Elijah got a good glimpse of orcish life.  They were a simple people, but there was a certain attractiveness to their way of life.  They didn’t look too deeply at the world.  So long as they had food, shelter, and a good fight, they were happy.

Elijah envied their simplicity.

Right up until he realized that it was all built on an entire system of slavery and exploitation.  What’s more, Elijah wasn’t even certain he could hold them accountable, because the vast majority of them – maybe everyone but Ok’tarik – were non-sapient.  The reality was that they simply didn’t know any better.

Or if they did, they hid it very well.

In any case, Elijah was hesitant to wander off, if only because he didn’t want to cause an incident.  Who knew what would cause offense among such people?  And after everything he’d done, he needed the alliance to work. 

Thankfully, as the second day wound down, Ok’tarik took him aside and told him it was time.  When Elijah asked for more information, the orcish warchief simply told him to follow.

And he did.

Thus, they embarked on a trek through Agmar.  At first, it was more of what Elijah was familiar with.  The orcs were clearly squatting, but in a more permanent way.  They didn’t bother with doors or structure.  Instead, they simply piled atop one another in whichever grand hall was closest.

Like animals.

However, it didn’t take Elijah long to find that there were those who demanded privacy.  Via Soul of the Wild, Elijah established that they were different from the others.  Closer to sapience, if he had to guess.  And they were all quite a bit more powerful than the run-of-the-mill grunts.  Maybe not in tier, but in the quality of the ethera running through their bodies.

They didn’t look at Elijah with fear.  Instead, they beheld him with a challenge gleaming in their eyes.

Elijah met like with like, staring them down until they looked away.  And they always did, because each and every one of them had seen what he did to their peers.  No one was willing to risk having their cores destroyed.  Not even a bunch of orcs who seemed to take his very existence as a challenge.

Suddenly, they left that area behind, exchanging it for something far more organized.  It was like night and day, and it soon became obvious what was going on.  Everywhere Elijah looked, there were work-slaves.  Yet, they weren’t the sort with which he’d grown familiar.  Instead, they seemed like Tradesmen.  Orcs who spent their days tanning hides or making food.  Or building cannons or engines for their ships.

Elijah even saw a huge facility where the gliders were built.

The work-slaves here had a spark of increased intelligence in their eyes.  At first, Elijah didn’t recognize it for what it was, largely because they looked away when they thought he might notice them.  But eventually, he saw it for what it was.

Then, at last, they reached their destination.

Elijah gasped in surprise as he beheld a truly massive underground facility.  It was at least as big as five professional football stadiums combined, with nine bridges spanning a pit of roiling fire.  At the outer edge were forges, each one spitting blue flames and emitting enough heat to melt steel in a second. 

But every single one of those bridges led to the largest forge at the very center.  It was like the hub of a wheel, and it hosted an anvil made of what looked like a galaxy.  Pure black, it was covered in pinprick stars.

Standing over it was a hunched work-slave.

When he turned at their approach, Elijah saw more than a glimmer of intelligence.  Instead, he saw real sapience. 

It seemed that Ok’tarik might not have been as unique as Elijah had once thought.