Path of Dragons 18 - Chapter 11 - The Nature of Cultivation (Patreon)

No pain, no gain.

It was such a common saying that it had graduated into trope status, and yet, that didn’t make it any less true.  No significant progress could ever come without some degree of pain.  And cultivation was no different.

Every single time he’d advanced a tier, it was on the heels of previously unheard-of agony.  And this instance was no different.

Elijah hurt.

Not just physically, though there was plenty of that.  Mentally, too.  Emotionally.  In every way that existed, he just hurt.  There was nothing he could do about it, either.  Not if he wanted to accomplish his goal, which seemed further and further away with every passing moment.

Most of the time, he would just shunt the pain off into its own leaf.  But now, he was forced to feel every sensation, be it physical, mental, or emotional.  At some point, Elijah lost track of time, but he was vaguely aware that his anguish created some degree of discomfort for Shelly.

For that, he was sorry.

He added that to the miasma of discomfort he already felt.

The physical pain was the easiest to deal with.  That just took time and a certain mindset, and it would pass.  However, the psychological trauma was much more difficult to process, requiring a combination of acknowledgement, self-appraisal, and most of all, an admission that he was not omnipotent.  For the issues that were the direct result of his actions, he accepted the part he’d played in the events that caused him so much pain.  For the ones that would have occurred without his input, he acknowledged that he could not have done anything.

The latter was much more difficult, and by a significant margin.

So many choices that had caused pain for everyone else.  What would have happened had he not met Kaelari?  Would she have been targeted?  Maybe.  Perhaps not.  But his presence hadn’t helped.  What about the role he’d played in his doomed relationship with Sadie?  What about Callux?  What about the entire war in Orveth Kaal?

Elijah knew he was guilty.

Maybe not of everything, but he had to admit that a lot fewer people would have died if he’d simply minded his own business.  And Orveth Kaal wouldn’t have been on the verge of destruction, either.

Then there was Alrhok’s betrayal.  Elijah had never admitted how much that had hurt.  Until that very moment, he would have counted the dragon a friend.  And he thought the feeling was mutual.  Was Elijah the best friend he could have been? No.  But he’d gone out of his way to do whatever he could for Alrhok.

And the reward was betrayal.

That stung.

Then there was the loneliness that he rarely even considered.  Most of the time, Elijah tried to pretend that he was unaffected when his path led him to solitude.  Or when Sadie had left him.  Or when Imal had left Orveth Kaal to advance to deity.  Sure, he knew she would return.  Their relationship was as solid as it could be under the circumstances. 

And yet, the pain of being alone never really stopped.

Was that his lot in life?  Was that the path he’d chosen?  Was that what he’d continued to choose, time and time again, as he left his friends, family, and loved ones to pursue whatever goal before him?

More importantly, were his choices to blame for the dissolution of his relationship with Sadie?  It was easy to believe that was just a result of time spent apart.  After all, he’d been stranded on Gorveth for nearly half a century.  No wonder she had moved on with her life, even if he hadn’t.

But he was only on Gorveth because he’d chosen to be.

He had done so because he thought the world depended upon him to go, but at the end of the day, Earth had gotten along just fine without him.  Maybe his sacrifice was necessary.  Perhaps it wasn’t. 

But it was a choice, nonetheless.

More important, he’d never really dealt with his guilt over that simple fact.  Not really, save on the surface level.  Instead, he had pushed it into its own facet, where he wouldn’t have to deal with it until another day.

That day had come. 

Now, all of his payments had come due, and he was dealing with the unavoidable consequences of a thousand actions.

Elijah didn’t dwell on those consequences.  Instead, he delved deeply into his emotions surrounding them.  And that brought more and more pain until tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

He didn’t stop, though. 

Instead, he kept going until the ambient light of day faded into darkness.  Through it all, Shelly didn’t remain idle.  Rather, she channeled her distress into a soothing calmness that made Elijah feel marginally better.  It really wasn’t so different from how he’d felt just after being diagnosed with cancer.  In the wake of the doctor’s declaration that it was terminal, Elijah had fallen into a daze that somehow had ended up with him sitting on his balcony, his dog Freemont in his lap.

That simple touch hadn’t cured his cancer.  It hadn’t even made him feel better.  Instead, it had given him some degree of acceptance of the simple fact that he was going to die. 

Did it last?

Not really.

But it was something he would never forget.  Fremont hadn’t understood what was going on, and neither did Shelly.  But both animals instinctively recognized that something was wrong and did what they could to help.  For Fremont, it was just doing what dogs do.  For Shelly, it was a more complex interaction between mental energy and ethera that enveloped Elijah like a warm blanket.

He found it comforting, especially in the midst of so much pain.

Gradually, Elijah came to terms with everything until, at last, he opened his eyes to see something he probably should have expected.

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” said Alyssa.

She was wearing a baseball cap, a ratty old tee-shirt she’d gotten at a Four Non-Blondes concert, and a pair of cutoff shorts.  She also looked a good deal younger than she had the last time he’d seen her.

That made perfect sense, considering that he recognized the outfit from a very specific memory. 

“I really don’t want to do this.”

“Too bad.”

Elijah felt a familiar sense of panic rising in his chest.  He hadn’t felt it for years, but it had come at such a pivotal moment that he could never forget the sensation.  It was like impending doom combined with a coming storm, all with the absolute knowledge that something terrible had come to pass.

Or maybe that was hindsight.

After all, Alyssa’s outfit was from the very day that they’d found out about their parents’ deaths. 

Back then, Elijah had enlisted his sister to act as his boxing trainer – a task for which she was perfectly suited.  She had a knack for pushing him harder than anyone else could, which was probably why he’d had any success at all. 

In any event, they had just gotten back from the gym when Alyssa received a phone call.  The second Elijah saw her change of expression, he knew something terrible had happened.  That was when that feeling hit him, and it hadn’t faded until nearly a year later, when he’d run halfway around the world to escape it.

Either way, seeing Alyssa as he remembered her from that evening was enough to bring back a thousand agonies he’d thought forgotten.

“You should have known you couldn’t escape any of this,” Alyssa said.  “You never did understand how to deal with trauma.”

“If you’re going to lecture me about not going to therapy…”

“It would have helped.”

“I know that.”

“Then why didn’t you go?” she asked.

“Does it matter?” Elijah countered.  “That was decades ago.  Like half a century.”

“You’re not going to answer the question?”

“Do you really want to know the answer?”

“I’m a memory, Elijah.  I don’t have agency.  I don’t want. I don’t care,” she answered.  “The only reason I’m here…the only reason I’m even asking you these questions is because you think they’re pertinent.”

“Fine.  You want to know the truth?”

“I think you want to admit it.”

“I didn’t go because I didn’t want to get better!” he spat, anger bubbling forth.  “Because if I did, then that would mean I didn’t care enough.  What right do we have to go on living our lives when they’re gone, huh?  Tell me how that’s fair.”

“It isn’t, Elijah.  Life isn’t fair.  I thought you knew that.”

Elijah hung his head, then ran his hand through his hair before pushing himself to his feet.  “Why can’t you be here?” he asked.

“People die, Elijah.  You’d better get used to that, because you’re going to outlive most of your friends,” she said.

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“Of course you know it,” Alyssa said with a sight.  “I’m not Alyssa.  I’m a part of your mind.  If I know, you know.  I thought we went over this.”

“You didn’t used to be such a smartass,” Elijah said.

“Well, that part is you, too.”

He turned away and beheld the expanse of forest surrounding Shelly.  It was absolutely magnificent, but he couldn’t enjoy it.  Not with the echoes of emotional pain still coursing through him. 

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I’m not really sure,” she answered, thankfully not pointing out that that meant that Elijah himself really didn’t know, either.  “Maybe I’m just your emotional sherpa, guiding you along steep cliffs until you reach the summit?”

“Which is?”

“The next tier of mind cultivation,” she answered. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“I have plans,” he admitted, though that was an understatement.  That wasn’t the problem. Instead, Elijah had way too many plans for what he wanted to do.  Before he’d gotten to Silvara, he’d thought about multiplying his leaves.  Now, he just wanted to improve upon what was already there. 

In practice, he had no idea what that meant.

Maybe better mental defenses.  Faster processing speed.  More thoroughly defined facets, represented by more detailed leaves.  Yet, Elijah knew something was missing.  He needed to do better than staying the course.

He needed to change the game.

He needed to be better than he was before.  Otherwise, what was the point?  Cultivation wasn’t just an item to check off of a list.  It was meant to be transformative.  At some point, he’d forgotten that.  So far, it hadn’t affected him much because he’d felt inspired at each step of the way.

But that was always a danger. 

He couldn’t just continue to put one foot in front of the other, mindlessly trudging along until he reached the destination.  It might work for one tier of cultivation, but eventually, his foundation would crumble under the weight of future achievement.  Would he find himself unable to advance after tier seven?  Eight?  He definitely wouldn’t reach the ninth, and there was no way he would exceed known tiers. 

Not unless he figured out what he really wanted out of his mind cultivation. 

“Only you can answer that,” Alyssa told him.

“I know,” Elijah stated, still staring out at the forest.

He wanted protection.  That was the first realization.  He’d seen the horrors inflicted by mind control.  He had watched Kaela succumb, and he’d witnessed the price she’d paid.  More, he had watched what had happened to his fungal thralls.  He had seen how vespirans subdued their prey as well.

Elijah needed to counter that.

That was the first goal.

The second goal was to solidify the gains he’d made, formalizing the purpose of each leaf.  Whether those leaves were meant to govern his trauma or control his thralls, there couldn’t be any overlap.  Leaves needed to be built for specific purposes.

And finally, he needed to process information faster. 

So far, he’d been able to keep up with each battle, but there would come a time when that just wouldn’t be possible.  Elijah needed to be ready for it.  Or rather, his mind did.

“I guess you’ve got your answer, then,” Alyssa said.

“I guess so,” Elijah stated.

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

“You’re not real.”

“Does it matter?”

Elijah sighed. “Not really,” he admitted.

With that, he sat down.  Alyssa settled in next to him, and he got to work.