Book 13: Chapter 60: The Only Choice

Path of Dragons

Elijah glanced at the statues and asked, “Any input here? Sage advice, maybe? Carmen, you usually have plenty to say about how I make rash decisions without thinking them through.”

The clay statue remained silent.

So did Treebie.

Despite reaching the goal he never thought he’d reach, the silence served to undercut his excitement and accentuate the indisputable reality of his loneliness. After all, the only semi-sentient creature for thousands of miles was Treebie. And he was a tree.

A special tree, certainly. But a tree nonetheless.

And as such, he wouldn’t be offering advice anytime soon. No one would because Elijah was irrevocably alone.

The weight of that settled onto his shoulders, familiar, yet heavier than ever before. He wanted nothing more than to share his elation with someone – anyone. Even Benedict, with all his sourness, would be welcome.

“Guess it’s up to me, then,” he remarked, sitting down and resting his back against Treebie. He could feel the tree’s spirit racing through his trunk, almost like a pulse but far more profound. It reached out, trying to mingle with his, but Elijah kept control of his own soul. He needed a clear head if he was going to make the proper choice.

Three options.

Herald of Life. Emerald Archon. And Primal Sovereign.

Each one had its advantages and disadvantages. They were all powerful, too. He didn’t think he could go wrong with any of them. And yet, his entire future rested on the back of his impending choice. If he picked the wrong one, it could send him off into an entirely different path.

That idea lent itself to choosing Primal Sovereign, which was as direct a continuation of his current Primal Lord class as possible. If he picked that, his path would remain consistent. Straight. He would keep going the same way he’d always gone.

There was something to be said for that. After all, his current class had treated him very well. It was comfortable – like an old sweater. It was familiar, and he knew what to expect from it.

But it wasn’t particularly special.

Powerful, certainly. Every class that had reached the Primeval rarity could boast as much. And the attribute bonuses reflected that. Yet, Elijah couldn’t shake the feeling that choosing it would be a mistake. Nor could he articulate why he felt that way. It was just instinct.

By comparison, when he re-read the description of the Emerald Archon, Elijah felt a deep undercurrent of power that didn’t exist with any of the others. It didn’t take him long to recognize it, either. It was an echo of a barely heard shout, just like he’d sensed when he communed with Treebie. It was the influence of the World Tree.

Despite the promised power, Elijah felt confined by that presence.

He’d never been particularly averse to subjecting himself to others’ authority. Before Earth’s transformation, he’d followed all the rules. Outside of underage drinking – which briefly got out of hand in the wake of his parents’ death – or speeding, he never broke any laws. And he’d never been the kind of guy who hated the government or decried the hand of the proverbial man.

That had changed in the wake of the World Tree’s touch. Maybe it was living alone for those first couple of years. Or perhaps it was the breakdown of the rule of law. It might’ve even been the acquisition of power that changed him. But whatever the case, for years now, Elijah had only followed his own rules, such as they were. No one could tell him what to do, and few even tried.

He was free.

The Emerald Archon class felt like it would change that. Suddenly, he would be subject to the World Tree’s whims and wishes. Whatever that meant.

He couldn’t help but liken it to the Priestesses he’d encountered back in Eldrathûn. Their lives weren’t their own. They were subject to the whims of a greater power, and one recognized by the system itself. He had no idea how that all worked – perhaps their spider goddess was a transcendent – but he knew perfectly well that he would never let someone else guide his life.

But then again, the World Tree wasn’t a person. Not really. It was an entity, certainly, but it felt more like a force of nature than something with a personality. And whether or not Elijah wanted to admit it, he’d been in the World Tree’s service ever since the Druid archetype had been chosen for him.

And if he was honest with himself, he knew he’d fight for the World Tree regardless of what class he took.

Still, it felt a little like a cage.

Or a wilderness preserve.

The Caretaker class was similar, though the cage was a more immediate sort. That class was insanely strong, as evidenced by its Eldritch rarity. That was the only reason he was even considering it. Otherwise, he would have dismissed it outright, mostly because it would put him in a box and force him to become something different.

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Once – in the very beginning – Elijah might’ve welcomed the chance to become a Healer and a nurturer. That side of him had only grown stronger as he’d terraformed Druhmor and its surroundings. In another life, he might’ve been happy with that sort of existence.

But now?

With the whole multi-verse looming over him?

It felt even more constraining than the Emerald Archon class.

However, it came with other benefits, as well. If his goal was to terraform all of Gorveth, then there would be no better class for him. Doubtless, it would turn the enormous task into something he could accomplish in the space of a single life. What’s more, the shift in the class’s purpose would also expand his opportunities for experience. After all, Healers got experience from healing. Explorers gained experience from exploring. And a Caretaker would almost assuredly progress from his terraforming efforts.

With that class, he could truly return Gorveth to its former glory and create an oasis amidst the abyss.

But had that ever been his goal?

Not really. At best, it was a consolation prize for if he failed to escape the abyss. At worst, it was just something to do to keep himself from going crazy. Somewhere in between was the reality that he’d begun the project as a step towards reaching home.

Becoming a Caretaker was like losing sight of the forest and instead focusing on the individual trees.

For that reason, he eliminated the lone Eldritch-rarity option.

That left the other two choices. When he broke them down, he realized that his decision could be simplified. The Emerald Archon offered power and the support of the World Tree, at the expense of some part of his freedom. The Primal Sovereign gave him more of the same he’d experienced since choosing the Animist class so long ago, and with all the comfort that entailed.

But that wasn’t to say it was a bad option. It wasn’t. It offered power as well, and Elijah knew that, if he chose it, he wouldn’t be disappointed.

He would always wonder what might’ve been, though.

Alone, that wasn’t enough to make him discard the option. Instead, Elijah focused inward, at the real reason for his hesitation, and he settled on simple fear. Not of dying. Not of a fight. Not even of being alone.

Instead, he feared responsibility. He was terrified of accepting authority and coming up short. Of letting it hem him in. Of it trapping him in a life where he couldn’t dictate his own actions.

“When I put it like that, the choice doesn’t seem like a choice at all,” he told Treebie.

For all that Elijah disliked the idea of being trapped, he hated the notion of backing down from a challenge even more. And while he didn’t think the World Tree would interfere with his normal plans, he also knew that if it tried to force him into anything, it would find that he was up to the challenge of resistance.

Not that he would win.

No – the World Tree was too powerful for him to fight.

But on the off chance that its wishes ran counter to his own, Elijah would simply refuse to comply. And nothing could move him once he chose to make that stand. Not a transcendent. Not the Ravener. And not the World Tree.

Of course, he had no reason to label the World Tree an enemy. The opposite, in fact. It wasn’t an ally. Such terms didn’t apply to such an omnipotent creature. But its basic nature felt like it aligned with Elijah’s.

For that reason – and probably a lot more he couldn’t quite articulate – Elijah made his decision. He chose to evolve his Primal Lord class into an Emerald Archon.

The moment he made that choice, the world froze.

No rustling leaves far above. No wind. No rain falling from the sky. Even Treebie’s soul stilled.

Then, all at once, energy erupted from the tree in a dense wave of ethera and vitality that quickly enveloped Elijah. It swirled around him, sinking in a little with each second.

A brief wave of panic surged through Elijah’s mind, though it was quickly quelled by a profound sense of relief and belonging that came with the World Tree’s touch. If he’d had any doubts about his decision, they disappeared under the auspices of that brief contact. It lasted less than a second, but in that time, his fears disappeared, replaced by serenity.

The echoes of that feeling lasted well after the World Tree withdrew.

The swirl of energy remained for a few long minutes. And in that time, Elijah’s body – the very essence of who he was – changed. It felt like advancing his cultivation all over again, but without the pain that came with it.

By the time it faded, he knew he’d grown stronger in every single way. He could feel it in the tension of his muscles, in the rapidity of his thought, and the spread of the branches of his soul. His core churned with dense power, the ethera within his cultivation system thicker than ever before.

He let out a breath.

And his immediate surroundings trembled.

At last, he had reached demi-god status.

But before he could check things out, he felt something building in his chest. His lungs expanded as ethera gathered. It mingled with vitality, forming a spell within him. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever felt before, though. It was more powerful. More natural. It was part of him.

He coughed.

And a wave of green energy arced out – like swirling lightning. It swept across the land surrounding Treebie, and in its wake, life bloomed. Flowers, grasses, and bushes poked through the black dirt, growing tall and proud in seconds, rather than weeks. It was like he’d pushed Nature’s Design to its limit.

But he’d not cast a spell.

Not really.

He gaped as the vital energy danced across the ground and disappeared into the distance. Wherever it went, plants grew. And when Elijah looked closer – both with his eyes and with Soul of the Wild – he saw something truly astounding.

Even with all his efforts, there was a difference between Gorveth and somewhere like Earth. The world had been excised, and it had been devoid of life for too long for it not to have a lasting effect. To a degree, Elijah had countered that, and Treebie’s growth had gone a long way to supporting that effort.

Yet, there was still a lingering feeling of absence. As if he’d found himself in a high-quality terrarium. Or a zoo. Maybe even a cultivated nature preserve.

But that wave of life finally bridged the gap. No longer did the evidence of Gorveth’s long tenure in the abyss hold sway. It finally let loose its grip and gave way to true nature.

Congratulations, young dragon. You have unlocked the potential of your heritage. Breathe life into the world, and it shall submit to your dominance.

Elijah swayed in place. For the longest time, he’d assumed that his ability to compound his spells was the real-world representation of the fabled dragon’s breath. And that assumption made perfect sense, given that the result spewed forth from his mouth.

But now, he realized just how mistaken he’d been.

At long last, he had unlocked the true breath of a dragon.