Path of Dragons 17 - Chapter 25 - Forbidden Fruit (Patreon)

I'm moving Sunday's double chapter to today. So, we're getting a second chapter today (to help with the cliff), but we won't be getting one on Sunday.

The unborn child writhed in pain.

Makit screamed, her face a rictus of agonized fury.  Her every muscle remained taut as she fought against the dull-eyed laborers.  It was a useless endeavor. She couldn’t hope to escape their firm grips.

And yet, she did just that.

Elijah barely noticed as she pummeled his head.  He hardly paid attention as she tried to rip his hand free of her belly.  In fact, he was so engrossed that he didn’t even recognize when Ok’tarik stepped in to hold her down himself. 

He took one side.  Two laborers took the other arm, while two more corralled her kicking legs. 

Through it all, Elijah focused on Dictate of the World Tree, and to the exclusion of all else.  If he’d tried, he might’ve been aware of his surroundings.  However, he barely had the wherewithal to think about such things. 

Because he wasn’t certain if he could make the spell work.

Like always, it had lashed out from his fingertips and grabbed hold of the unborn orc.  It cut through Makit without any issue at all.  That part was absurdly easy.  Yet, it failed to find purchase.  The tendrils of power – not unlike mycelial hyphae – wrapped around the deceptively large creature, penetrating deep into his flesh.  But it wouldn’t go any further.

Elijah used every tactic he’d discovered while growing Treebie.  He heeded every lesson he’d learned from ushering Fungee into a new realm of power.  He employed a similar strategy to what he’d used to transform the crab from a mundane beast into a guardian.

Nothing worked.

Not even when he wrapped his soul around the spell, weaving an intricate pattern of runes that should have lent it the penetrating power it needed.

Still, nothing.

Elijah began to despair, but he caught himself well before he let the frustration take hold.  Instead, he forced himself to look at it from the perspective of a scientist. The first step was to find the problem.  The second was to test various solutions.  And the final was to employ whatever fixes he discovered.

Easier said than done.

The orcish child was unlike any other creature upon which he’d ever tried to use Dictate of the World Tree. More vibrant than Fungee.  More enduring than Treebie.  And with far more potential than the lowly crab.

It was as if the unborn infant was already sapient, just that something kept it from realizing his promise.  Elijah didn’t need to be a Scholar to recognize the culprit, either.  It had already shown its hand when it prevented Ok’tarik from leaving Orveth Kaal.  Doubtless, the system had put some sort of limiter in place to hinder the growth of the orcs.

Knowing that, Elijah pushed his senses deeper into the orcish child’s metaphysical system.  The first few layers looked no different than any other orc’s.  The pieces of cultivation were there, but they were weak.  Barely perceptible. 

Elijah pushed past them.

Layer after layer, he delved – until he finally found a wall. 

It was inviolable.  Thick enough that Elijah couldn’t see past it, and more than sturdy enough to prevent Dictate of the World Tree from taking hold.  Instead, the ethereal hyphae crawled up the edifice like vines, creeping outward until they encompassed the entire thing. 

Despite finding purchase, they couldn’t overcome the system. 

The impossibility of that concept glared at Elijah, almost tauntingly.  Certainly threateningly. 

He refused to accept it. 

In his experience, impossible was just a word people gave to situations they lacked the power to overcome.  What might qualify for that label for him might just be a little difficult for others.  And for people like Kirlissa?  Barely an inconvenience.

If Elijah was ever going to transcend the system, he needed to stop playing by its rules.  If he failed, then it would be on him.  Not some arbitrary limit set by the system. 

So, he hit the wall even harder.  Dictate of the World Tree flailed.  It battered.  It tried to slither through the cracks.  Nothing worked.

Elijah dug deeper into his own soul. 

The second he delved below the surface, he recognized the inherent danger.  He’d experienced the repercussions often enough that he knew just how badly things could for him. 

He didn’t care.

He had set a task for himself, and he wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way.  Not the system, and certainly not his own fear.

Elijah went deeper.

And finally, he found something new.  Something unexpected.  Metaphysically, he stood beneath the branches of an enormous tree.  He didn’t need to be a genius to recognize it as the imagery he’d used for his cultivation system.  The ethereal organism was equal parts fungi, arbor, human, dragon, and beast – all held together by some unknowable factor that Elijah could only refer to as his spirit.

It was beautiful.

Terrifying, too. 

Those things shouldn’t have all existed in a single entity.  And yet, they did.  They represented every part of Elijah, with his spirit functioning as the connective tissue. 

He stared at it for a long time, unsure what to do.  Unknowing what it meant that he could finally see it in person, rather than as something imagined or a simple projection.

At the same time, he remained in that bedroom, his hand on Makit’s writhing stomach.  Chaos abounded.  The laborers struggled to keep her still.  Aside from Elijah, only Ok’tarik remained unwavering.

He wore his worry plainly upon his face.

He plainly didn’t fully trust Elijah, and for good reason.  The entire premise might’ve been necessary, but it was far from ethical.  Even success wouldn’t change that.

But it would help.

Elijah kept that at the forefront of his mind, dragging his actions to their inevitable conclusion.

Looking at that tree, he couldn’t help but despair.  Partly at his own ignorance.  Partly because it was so magnificent.  But mostly, because he feared failure.

Then, he saw it.

High in the branches, a single fruit glimmered, golden and powerful enough to outshine even the tree itself.  It reminded him of the apple he’d taken from the tree in the Hollow Depths.  Back then, it had played host to a giant spider, the off-spring of which he’d befriended.  He’d named that one Peter. 

That fruit had been a natural treasure, but this one was something else entirely.  Elijah could feel bits of his cultivation system embedded in it.  The flesh was his body.  The core – like an apple – was predictably his core.  The seeds were his mind.  And through it all ran his soul.

Just looking at it filled Elijah with need.  It was a perfect encapsulation of his progress, and he knew – he just knew – that if he took it for himself, he could discover something wonderful.

On the other side, if he left it where it was, it would serve to bolster every part of him. 

And then there was the final option.  He could take it, but not for himself.  Instead, he intuitively recognized that he could use it to help the child. 

Elijah knew precisely which choice he would make.  In a lot of ways, he’d already made it, and from the moment he’d suggested the strategy to Ok’tarik.  Going back empty-handed just wasn’t an option.

But what if it didn’t work?

What if it was too weak?

Elijah couldn’t accept that risk.  So, he decided to change the paradigm.  It was still a plant, after all.  And if nothing else, Elijah knew precisely what flora needed to flourish.

The first step was to shift part of his focus to a different aspect of Dictate of the World Tree.  Not the part that imbued an organism with a piece of the World Tree, but rather, the bit that held over from its previous incarnation and allowed him to manipulate plant growth.

He embraced it. 

And an instant later, a massive presence descended upon him.  The mere weight of it nearly drove him to unconsciousness, but he barely held on.  Soon enough, he realized the truth – he’d nearly knocked himself out by perceiving the full breadth of his own cultivation’s potential.

Humbling.

Terrifying, too. 

Elijah ignored it.  Instead, he went to work, weaving his power through the glimmering fruit.  As he did so, he climbed the tree.  He wasn’t certain if proximity was necessary, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.  By the time he reached the glowing, apple-like orb, he’d completed his task. 

It pulsed with potential, just like his cultivation.  But he’d tied it all into a knot so it wouldn’t be released all at once. 

That choice had been driven by pure instinct, but when he examined it, he knew it had been the right decision.  However, he also recognized that he wasn’t finished.  Far from it, in fact.

He had two more all-important steps left before he could use the fruit. For what, he still wasn’t sure.  He was flying by the seat of pants, acting as much on instinct as conscious thought.  He could guide the process, but at times, the implementation left him feeling like a passenger in his own mind.

Elijah also didn’t stop to question if what he was seeing was real.  It felt like it was, even if he knew it was only metaphysical in nature.  But he also knew it was a separate place from where he knelt next to Makit.

It existed, though.  Elijah was certain of that, which was enough to drive him forward.

After he’d finished with Dictate of the World Tree, Elijah cast Wellspring, twice in succession.  The first incarnation came in the physical world, targeted toward the child in Makit’s swollen belly.  The wave of vitality washed over the unborn infant, funneling straight into the baby’s unformed core.

Next, Elijah cast the same spell on the fruit, with surprising results.

Both drew against the Well of Life, but the pair of spells – one was physically represented, while the other existed in that strange world of spirit – connected to one another as well.

That connection quickly became a funnel, dragging the fruit’s essence through the Well of Life and into the child’s core. 

The system’s barrier shattered.

In the physical world, an explosion erupted, the shockwave destroying the walls and vaporizing the laborers.  Makit was spared that fate, but she couldn’t remain conscious.  As she went limp, Ok’tarik held firm.  Even as the explosion ripped the flesh from his bones, he never wavered.

Elijah was entirely unaffected.

Physically, at least.  Spiritually, it felt as if someone had ripped his soul away from his body.  The tree’s branches withered, almost as if they were dehydrated. The leaves fell.  The trunk became desiccated. 

Elijah shifted.  Not in the real world, but rather, in the metaphysical space.  He became an emerald-scaled dragon.  His wings of branches, leaves, and moss spread from his back, and he let out a roar.  Vitality flooded from his throat and enveloped the tree as he employed the Breath of Life.

The tree drank it all in.

And somehow, it survived.

Gradually, the fruit’s golden skin lost its sheen.  Then, it began to pucker.  It shrank in on itself, becoming smaller with every passing moment.  With that went a piece of Elijah that he barely knew was even there. But now that he did, it felt like cutting off both his arms.

Or having them ripped away and consumed right in front of him.

He wept.

He trembled.

He gritted his teeth at the pain.

Yet, he never let himself look away from the task.  He continued at it until the fruit was no larger than a raisin and twice as shriveled.  Only then did it fall, the remains disintegrating the second it hit the ground.  The grassy meadow trembled at the impact.

Elijah almost lost consciousness.  Every nerve in his body wanted to shut down.  But he pushed that away, resolving to finish the task.

With the system’s barrier gone, he could now do what needed to be done. 

And the bare hint of a core within the baby’s chest now felt like something far more solid.  Elijah embraced it, driving Dictate of the World Tree inside.  There, he imparted the tiniest sliver of the World Tree’s essence. 

But it didn’t go alone.

Instead, every single ounce of power derived from that fruit took hold of the core as well.  And before Elijah’s very eyes, it transformed, taking a rudimentary shape. 

Just as the transformation solidified, Elijah fell backward.  His hand burned with the knowledge of what he’d just done.  He barely had time to acknowledge that before unconsciousness swept over him.

It only lasted the barest of instants, but when Elijah opened his eyes, he saw only ruin around him.

But only a few feet away, Makit was still alive.  Her swollen belly was unmarked.  And Ok’tarik, stoic as ever, remained by her side.

More importantly, it only took Elijah a few moments to recognize two all-important things. First, the child growing inside her was strong and healthy.  Second, he pulsed with a level of power that should not have been possible. 

That was all the confirmation Elijah needed to know that what he’d done had worked.  Now, he just needed to figure out exactly what had happened and what it really meant.