Path of Dragons

Book 4: Chapter 7: A Natural Balance

Book 4: Chapter 7: A Natural Balance

“These children are remarkable,” said Biggle. “I wish I had access to a Physician to understand precisely what’s happening here.”

The kids – who were all lined up in front of the gnome – were mostly taller than Biggle, but they all beamed at the apparent compliment. One even threw his hands into the air in celebration. However, Elijah knew that none of them – save for Bryce, perhaps – had any clue what he was talking about.

“What’s the difference between a Healer and a Physician?” asked Bryce, who looked uncomfortable at the scrutiny she’d just endured. Biggle didn’t have much use for boundaries, so after feeding each of the children some concoction that he claimed would make things clearer for him, he’d leaned in close enough that his overlarge nose touched her cheek. “I thought they were the same thing.”

“Ah – that’s a common mistake. A Physician is a Scholar class. While a Healer specializes in fixing problems, a Physician’s main purpose is diagnosis. They endeavor to understand, rather than heal. Though many of them possess some ability in the latter,” Biggle said. “Tell me, child – you weren’t with these other children in the beginning, were you?”

“Uh...no. I was adopted before the apocalypse.”

“Apocalypse?” Biggle asked, clearly confused. Then, his eyes widened in understanding. “Ah. I can see why you humans would see the touch of the World Tree in such a light. But this is no apocalypse. It is an opportunity. Think of it like the great forest moths. They begin life as the spotted caterpillar, no larger than you are now, but then they undergo a transformation that lets them take to the skies. They grow so large that they can block the smallsun.”

“A caterpillar as big as me?” she gasped. “That’s...”

“You don’t have those here?” asked Biggle.

“No, we don’t,” Elijah said, smiling slightly. “Our caterpillars are usually smaller than a finger.”

“What? That makes no sense. How would the moth grow so large, then?”

“Moths are tiny,” Bryce said.

“She’s right,” Miguel pointed out, staring at the girl. If she’d noticed the intensity of his gaze, she might’ve been a bit uncomfortable. Thankfully, she hadn’t recognized the young man’s clear infatuation. In retrospect, it should have been predictable. They weren’t far off in age, and Miguel clearly hadn’t encountered many girls over the past couple of years. “Moths are really small.”

Elijah nearly chuckled at Miguel’s pointless contribution to the conversation, but instead, kept his mouth shut as Biggle said, “That...is troubling.” He shook his head. “But never mind your oddly sized moths. My point is that you didn’t endure the same transformation that blessed these children. When they come of age – provided they survive that long – they will be well on their way to the first stage of body cultivation. I have never seen something so remarkable.”

“What does it mean?” asked Konstantinos.

“Two things,” Biggle said, holding up two tiny fingers. “First, you saved these children’s lives. That concoction you’ve been feeding them is primitive but inspired. That’s the difference between a passable Tradesman and an exceptional one. Creativity. It’s what separates us from those less talented.”

“Humility, too,” Elijah pointed out.

“Bah. Humility. What use is it? If you’re good, let the world know!” Biggle insisted, emphatically thrusting his finger toward the ceiling.

Elijah rolled his eyes. “What’s the other thing?”

“The second is that I know how to help them,” Biggle stated, puffing out his chest. He addressed Konstantinos, who still wore a pair of denim overalls with no shirt. Otherwise, he had on a straw hat, with what looked like a piece of swamp grass sticking out from between his lips. “It’s a pill meant to do the same thing your little potions have done. The difference is that it’ll last a lot longer.”

“How much longer?” asked the other Alchemist.

In any case, they arrived in Argos a couple of days later, which meant that they had a free day. So, Elijah allowed Miguel to wander the town alone while he stopped by Atticus’ shop to see if the merchant had had any luck filling his requests.

“No luck, my friend. I have some items that would fit,” Atticus answered with a shake of his head. “But they’re nothing special. I feel certain that I will have a chance to obtain the equipment you require in a month or so. There are a few scheduled tower runs upcoming, which usually results in an influx of inventory. We have also been getting more traders of late.”

“Really?”

“Yes. From a wide variety of places, too. I’m told there is a tribe of nomadic hunters who reside on the plains past the swamp to the south. Some of my products come from their forays into that region’s towers. We’ve seen quite a few traveling merchants as well,” Atticus explained. “I only wish Argos had more dedicated crafters. We’ve a few decent Leatherworkers, Builders, and quite a lot of Farmers. No Blacksmiths or Tailors, though.”

“Once Carmen gets settled, hopefully we can figure something out,” Elijah said.

“If she’s as good as you say, we will all get very rich!” he exclaimed.

Elijah shrugged. “I’m told she’s good, but I’ve never seen her products,” he said honestly. “In any case, I’ll be heading back home tomorrow, but I’ll try to stop by here sometime soon.”

With that, Elijah returned to his hotel room, where he got started on the next phase of his cultivation. He knew the basics of how to take the next step with his Core, but he’d only spent a little time practicing the technique. It required him to take in as much ethera as he could – enough to make him feel like he was going to burst – then swirl it around before expelling it as slowly as possible. To Elijah, it was a little like taking a long, deep breath, then holding it in, though with the added difficulty of doing some calisthenics along the way. It wasn’t a perfect analogy, but it described the process well enough for him.

Regardless, he quickly found the first issue.

The ethera density in Argos was severely lacking, and as a result, it took almost ten minutes for his Core to reach complete saturation. Then, another ten to push it to its uncomfortable limit. But even then, it felt hollow. Like he should have been filling a balloon with water, but all he had was air.

It was the best he could do, though, and he spent the next half hour swirling the ethera around until he could hold it no longer. Then, he let it out.

Almost an hour, and he’d done very little good. He couldn’t even notice any difference, even though he knew it should have expanded ever so slightly. To him, the activity seemed a lot like working out. It was meant to be a long process, and he wouldn’t notice improvement for a while.

He kept going, though, repeating the cycle a few more times before he started to lose focus. He probably would have continued, but Miguel’s return was distracting enough to throw a wrench into those plans. So, after his nephew excitedly described his foray into Argos, Elijah broached the subject they’d begun to discuss on the way to the swamp.

“Would you like to train with Kurik? If so, I can set it up when we get back,” Elijah said. “Don’t feel obligated to agree, though. If you have no interest in learning the skills he can teach, then it would just be a waste of time.”

Miguel narrowed his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I want to do it? I would have given anything to have those skills after we were exiled,” he said.

“Alright, then. I guess that settles that,” Elijah said. He glanced at the window, seeing that darkness had completely settled over Argos. “Get some sleep. We’re going to leave early in the morning.”

Miguel quickly agreed, but even after the lights were extinguished, sleep was elusive, and for both of them. Miguel was clearly too excited for slumber, but Elijah had other things on his mind.

Because now that he’d met his obligations with Konstantinos, he only had one more task to accomplish before setting off for Easton. Once he’d introduced Miguel to Kurik – who he still hadn’t asked to mentor the kid – there would be nothing else, aside from a few preparations for the journey, to delay his departure.

And now that it was so close, Elijah was eager to get started. Excitement wasn’t the right word. Nor was anxiety. Instead, it was a mixture of both, with a healthy dose of dread thrown in. Some righteous indignation, too. A sense of serving justice, as well. To put it mildly, he was beset by a snarl of varied emotions that were extremely difficult to identify. The end result, though, was that he looked forward to looking his sister’s murderer in the face and watching the light life leave his eyes.

That, at least, was a comforting thought that ushered him into sleep.