Path of Dragons 18 - Chapter 25 - They Never Learn (Patreon)

The interior of the Hall of Harmony was exactly as well-appointed as Elijah had been led to expect.  The walls were reminiscent of the most ostentatious rooms in the Vatican, with rich décor and highly lifelike, yet idealized murals glimmering with ethera.  The second Elijah stepped into range of one, he felt a deep sense of belonging and pride in humanity. 

Of course, that lasted only so long as he saw the subject.

“It was commissioned during the planning process for the Hall,” Hamada said, halting when Elijah came to a stop in front of the massive painting.  It stretched along the entire length of the entry hall, which meant that it was more than a hundred feet long and at least twenty feet tall.  The other side was similarly decorated, though with a different scene depicting the rebuilding of Seattle.

Elijah wasn’t concerned with that one, even if it was a masterpiece on par with anything created by a Renaissance master.  Instead, his eyes remained trained on the other one. 

Anyone who knew Elijah would recognize the source of his issues with the mural.  It depicted the Battle of Seattle, when the war elves had surrounded and infiltrated the city.  If Elijah hadn’t been present, Seattle would have fallen, just like so many other cities before it. 

Elijah had witnessed the aftermath of just such an invasion, when he’d stumbled upon the destroyed city of New Delhi.  The few survivors had fled to Kalki, which had provided refuge against an entire army of war elves, which were elves who’d been bred – often forcefully – with orcs.  They’d eventually become a distinct off-shoot from other elves, larger, fiercer, and more warlike.

They even retained some version of orcish traditions, like the Warcallers whose powers very much resembled those of orc shamans. 

Either way, they were incredibly war-like, and they’d sent five armies to Earth to conquer it.  In doing so, they fully expected the planet to fail its integration and be cast out into the abyss through excisement. 

Elijah had stopped them outside Kalki, and he’d been there to save Seattle from the other four armies.  He hadn’t done so alone.  Plenty of people had stepped up to defend their city, not least among them Gunnar and Isaiah. 

Yet, Elijah was the one everyone focused on.

Probably because he’d fought much of that battle as a giant, emerald scaled dragon with massive antlers and wings seemingly made of leaves, vines, and branches.  That kind of image left a mark on people. 

Clearly, that was the case with the artist, who’d lovingly depicted Elijah’s dragon form hovering over the city like some protective guardian. 

“I guess a statue wasn’t enough,” Elijah sighed, referring to the statue on the other side of town. That was embarrassing enough, but seeing the mural pushed over the edge.  Did he deserve their adulation?  Maybe, though he would have disputed that fact, focusing on all the others who’d contributed to the victory.

But as Sara often told him, people needed a figurehead.

And he just happened to be that for Seattle.  And Ironshore.  And due to Sara’s efforts propagandizing him, the rest of Earth.

It was then that it really struck Elijah that on his home planet, he would never be a normal person again.  Perhaps he hadn’t been since he’d taken the top spot on those now-defunct power-rankings provided by the system.

Surely, the days when he could rely on anonymity had long since passed.  He’d recognized that fact before, but seeing himself represented similarly to how people had once portrayed God and angels came with a uniquely sobering realization.

“There would have been more,” Hamada stated. “The council vetoed it, largely because it is believed that it would offend you.”

Sara smiled broadly, inserting herself into the conversation to say, “Great feats should be acknowledged.  That is why the people established the Day of the Dragon festival in Ironshore.  It has since spread throughout the world.”

“I agree, Lady Sara,” Hamada said with grave respect.  “Yet, I am only a soldier.  I do as I’m told.”

“Perhaps you should relocate somewhere you could be closer to your daughter,” she suggested.  “I am certain Ironshore could make use of a man with your talents.”

“Ah, but my heart is in Seattle,” Hamada responded.  “Perhaps retirement will take me there.  I hear it is quite beautiful.”

“We will welcome you, General,” Sara said.

He nodded before suggesting that they move on.  For Elijah, traversal through the rest of the entryway was an exercise in embarrassment.  Every step he took was accompanied by a feeling of being watched, but not by any individual.  Not even by Isaiah’s drones.  No – by the deific representation of him plastered onto that wall.

It wasn’t just uncomfortable.  It reminded him that there were people out there that needed him to be better than just a man.  Better than just a dragon.  Better than a simple Druid.  He was Earth’s champion – as Isaiah had put it – and he needed to conduct himself as one.

With that in mind, he held his shoulders a little straighter and followed Hamada through the entry hall and into a suitably impressive lobby.  Inside, there were hundreds of men and women present, and of all races and ethnicities.  Humans were predominant, but Elijah saw quite a few elves, dwarves, and goblins present.  He even saw those feathered humanoids, the name of whose race he could never quite remember.

In short, the crowd seemed to represent the entirety of Earth’s population.

Elijah even saw a couple of illythiri standing off to the side, looking incredibly uncomfortable.  Was that because they were on the surface?  Or was it because they’d made a habit of trying to conquer quite a few cities before humanity had formed an alliance through collective action against the Primal Realm that had threatened to overwhelm them?

Elijah wasn’t sure, and he didn’t think he’d soon learn the truth – largely because he fully intended to forget the questions as soon as his obligations were finished.  Champion, he could be. Politician, he was not.

When he entered the room, a wave passed through the crowd as people noticed him.  In what seemed like a synchronized performance, they turned, one clump after another, to look at Elijah.  Silence followed until it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. 

Hamada pretended not to notice, leading them further into the lobby. 

For his part, Elijah barely noticed the décor, instead focusing on the people. Some, he recognized.  Others wore faces he didn’t know.  All paid attention to him, though.

Elijah felt distinctly uncomfortable as he focused on just how awkward taking a step really was.  A stumble almost felt inevitable, what with all those moving parts.  Fortunately, he didn’t, and they soon arrived at the most obvious destination in the world.

Isaiah stood in the center of the room, holding court among people who wished to curry favor with the city of Seattle. 

He looked well, save for the fact that half his head had been replaced by metal that matched his skin color perfectly.  The only indication that the dark surface wasn’t flesh was a subtle shine.

And the yellow eye that emitted a dense sense of ethera.

Through Soul of the Wild, Elijah could sense that the artificial improvements to Isaiah’s body didn’t just end with his head or eye.  Most of his bones had been replaced, in addition to his heart.  Elijah had already known about the latter, but the device he sensed in Isaiah’s chest was far and away more advanced than what Elijah remembered.

The same could be said about most of the systems within his body.

Elijah had already known that Isaiah possessed an elder core granted to him by one of the rare mechaniques still roaming the multi-verse.  In addition, he recognized that those creatures – descended from chimera – cultivated by transforming their bodies, usually into what could only be called cyborgs. 

Yet, even knowing that hadn’t prepared Elijah for what he saw inside Isaiah.

It was powerful.  Likely, he’d advanced through a few cultivation stages.  But it just felt so unnatural to Elijah. Not evil, like so many other unnatural things.  But distasteful.

He processed that negative emotion, then let it drift away.  He couldn’t let it affect how he dealt with Isaiah.

“Elijah,” the man said.  He wore a simple black suit with a high necked jacket with a stand collar.  There was no tie, just a row of ivory buttons cutting across his chest.  To Elijah, it looked confining and uncomfortable.  But then again, Isaiah was a military man before the world changed, so he was probably accustomed to that kind of thing.

“Isaiah,” Elijah replied. 

“Lady Sara,” Isaiah added.  With a nod, he acknowledged the halfling, “Master Okar.”

After greetings had been exchanged, Isaiah and Sara began to converse about the relationship between their respective cities.  Elijah listened as they talked about import and export taxes as well as military alliances, including access to various resources like Primal Realms and towers. 

As far as Elijah could tell, Ironshore brought peerless crafters and valuable natural resources to the table.  Meanwhile, Seattle brought sheer numbers in terms of their military, technology, and firepower. 

From that short discussion, Elijah came to realize that the two cities were closer allies than he’d come to believe.  In some ways, it reminded him of the relationship between the United States and the United Kingdom.  Were they immune to criticizing one another? Not at all.  But if someone messed with one, they were picking a fight with the other. 

For the most part, Elijah remained silent, interjecting only when Isaiah asked him a direct question.  His answers weren’t really relevant, as the leader of Seattle was only trying to make him feel like he was part of the conversation.  Part of Elijah appreciated that, but part of him resented it as well.

Of course, he knew that if he’d taken a firmer hand in Ironshore’s and the grove’s development, he would’ve been a bigger part of the discussion.  He didn’t want that.  But the exclusion still annoyed him, at least to some degree.

Thankfully, an old friend came to rescue him.

“Elijah!” came a bellowing voice that he recognized. 

Elijah turned to see the Merchant Prince of Argos striding toward him.  And he couldn’t help but smile when he saw his friend’s beefy form.  Elijah threw his arms out and embraced the man, nothing that he couldn’t reach all the way around him.

“Put on a bit of wait, haven’t you?” Elijah asked, pulling away.  He patted his friend’s stomach.  “Your wife relaxed the restrictions?”

“Ah, but I couldn’t resist the allure of multi-versal meals, my friend,” Atticus revealed.  He’d been off-world for quite a while, and the man had always loved to try new things.  Apparently, some of his new favorites were particularly bad for him.  “And yes.  Selene has become quite a bit more lax over the years.”

“Didn’t expect that,” Elijah admitted with a slight chuckle.  The woman he remembered was a bit of a stickler for clean living, having worked in the health industry before the world changed. 

“That is because you neglect to see things from my perspective,” Atticus said. “Watching one’s diet is completely reasonable for most people, but for someone like me?  My cultivation alone will ensure that I live a long and healthy life, diet be damned.”

That brought a chuckle. “You don’t mind the other consequences?” Elijah asked his friend.

“Nonsense,” Atticus said, clutching his belly.  “This is a reward for a life well-lived, not a consequence.”

Elijah laughed again and opened his mouth to speak.  He never got a word out, though.  Instead, his thoughts were interrupted by the familiar, yet slimy, feeling of someone trying to invade his mind.

The ecosystem he’d built fought against it.  The atmosphere swirled, stranding the intruding thread before it ever got close to his leaves.  Meanwhile, the tiny organisms he’d grown leaped free of the tree and ate through that thread.  It happened in a matter of an instant before the intrusion was completely rebuffed.

A second later, there was a piercing scream from the other side of the room.

Elijah’s head whipped in that direction, and he took a step toward his attacker.

“What just –”

Atticus didn’t finish before Elijah cut him off, saying, “People just never learn, do they?”