Book 3: Chapter 1: A Second Wind

Book 3: Chapter 1: A Second Wind

As the noon sun shone down on Elijah’s head and a gentle wind tousled his curly hair, he sat in the middle of the square known as Druid Park, wearing a mantle of contentment. After everything he had been through, he thought it was important to keep a positive mindset.

When he’d been diagnosed with terminal cancer, it would have been so easy to give in to despair. And in fact, he had, surrendering to what he thought was his inevitable death. Only after Earth had been touched by the World Tree had he been given a second chance at life. That had come with significant hardship as well, and for more than two years, he’d struggled to survive alone on a deserted island. But he had persevered, and eventually, he’d begun to amass significant power.

Yet, it seemed that every time he turned around, there was a new challenge meant to push him to even greater heights. More, it felt as if every step he took was beset by one distraction or another. The moment he’d left his island in search of his family, he’d been sidetracked by a string of events that had conspired to keep him from focusing on his primary task.

Certainly, he’d done some good along the way. He’d healed and saved plenty of people, though he was more focused on the ones he’d killed. At the time, he’d considered himself justified, but with the benefit of hindsight, he could recognize his mistakes. Even then, he didn’t precisely feel bad about the things he’d done. Rather, he only acknowledged that if he kept going down that road, he would become something he didn’t want to be.

So, he’d resolved to keep his vengeful impulses to a minimum, establishing a code of conduct so he’d know when he was about to step over the line. Hopefully, that would be enough, because he wasn’t certain if he could trust himself to react appropriately in any given moment.

Sure, he hoped so. And he strove to be as moral a person as the situation allowed. But Elijah could at least acknowledge that he had issues and that he couldn’t always rely on his own judgement. That was where the code came in.

It boiled down to a few simple tenets, the first of which was that he wouldn’t punish people for doing what they needed to do to survive. If that included killing powerful beasts or harvesting natural treasures, then so be it. As distasteful as he considered either activity, he couldn’t judge people for them.

It went against his instincts, but that was kind of the point. He was a human first, a Druid second. And that was how he needed to approach things.

That was what had led him to help defend the people of Ironshore from the orcish horde. It had been a brutal battle, but he and the dwarves, goblins, and gnomes who’d come to Earth in search of a new beginning had eventually emerged victorious. With no false modesty, Elijah knew that he was the biggest reason for their successful defense of Ironshore.

But he didn’t regret it.

In fact, he reveled in what he considered a good deed, and the people of Ironshore had begun to tolerate him. They still didn’t see Elijah as one of them, but even begrudging acceptance was better than hostility. He hoped that his relationship with them would continue to grow and evolve in a positive way.

Finally, Elijah opened his eyes, and he flinched away when he saw a huge pair of eyes staring back at him. It took him a moment to realize that a gnomish child was sitting in front of him. She was tiny – barely a foot tall, and sitting atop a giant toadstool that had grown in front of him.

“Hey,” she squeaked brightly. “Mr. Biggle said these aren’t poisonous and that you wouldn’t mind letting them grow in your park. I don’t believe him. Not about the poisonous thing, but about you not minding. You look kind of grumpy.”

“Uh...I’m not grumpy,” Elijah said.

“That’s what my mom always says when dad stays out too late and comes home dizzy,” she said. “But I know she’s lying. I think you might be like that. Most grown-ups are liars.”

“I’m not,” Elijah lied. He’d told plenty of fibs in his day. “Well, I am. But I’m not lying right now.”

She cocked her head to the side, her pink pigtails swaying. “That’s what a liar would say,” she reasoned.

“True,” Elijah agreed, nodding sagely. “But if I’m not lying and said I was, then I’d be a liar.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Mr. Druid.”

“Elijah.”

“Druid Elijah,” she said.

“Uh...what was it that you wanted? Or were you just watching me meditate?” he asked.

“I like watching the tree grow,” she said. “It got bigger even since yesterday. Is that because of you?”

Elijah nodded. “I have a spell that helps plants grow,” he said. Then, he focused on the giant mushroom upon which the gnomish child sat. “Mushrooms, too, apparently.”

In any event, Elijah quickly made his way inside the large building and found his way to Ramik’s office. An attendant greeted him, then let him in to see the goblin mayor of Ironshore.

Ramik cut a prim, well-dressed figure, with a three-piece suit, a pair of stylish spectacles, and a pair of shiny shoes. Normally, he wore a bowler hat – or at least an approximation of one – but it hung from a low rack near the door. Overall, the goblin looked like a Victorian-era gentleman, albeit one with green skin, goblinoid features, and a height that couldn’t have been more than three feet.

Ramik looked up from where he’d been writing a letter with an honest-to-goodness quill pen and said, “Oh, Elijah. Thank you for coming. I trust my...ah...niece didn’t trouble you too much?”

“Niece?” Elijah asked, taking a seat across from the goblin. “There a story there?”

Indeed, the little girl had been a gnome.

“By marriage,” the goblin stated. “My wife’s a gnome, and that’s her sister’s child. I’m sure you understand.”

“Sure. What’s up?” Elijah asked, draping his arm over the back of the chair. “Something going on? The orcs aren’t back, are they? I feel like someone a bit higher up than a gnomish child would have come for me if that was the case, but you all surprise me every time I turn around.”

“No, nothing like that,” Ramik said with a wave of his hand. He took his glasses off, then wiped the lenses with a handkerchief he took from his vest pocket. “According to Kurik, the orcs were completely wiped out. He found their origin, and there were none left.”

“Good riddance,” Elijah stated. It had been a costly war, and not just in terms of the people they’d lost. They’d also attempted to starve the orcs by hunting all the game in the area. It wouldn’t likely have a permanent impact, but even though it had been Elijah’s suggestion, it still filled him with unease. It would have been worse if it hadn’t worked.

“Indeed,” Ramik said. “The reason I asked you to come is twofold. First, there is a memorial service tonight, and I hoped you would make an appearance.”

“Of course,” Elijah said without hesitation. Without those people, he wouldn’t have survived. Specifically, there was a goblin mage who’d saved his life at the end of the battle, so he thought he owed at least her the respect of showing up to her memorial. “What else?”

“An official alliance, as we spoke of before. The terms are simple – you help us if we’re threatened, and we’ll do the same, defending your territory as if it’s our own,” he said. “Of course, we will stay away otherwise. We have no desire to push that.”

“Ah. Yeah. I mean, that’s fine. I’ll have to look at the official terms, but...yeah. That sounds good.”

Elijah recognized that he likely should have expected it. After all, even the temporary alliance they’d established to deal with the orcs had been successful, and considering their close proximity, it made sense to become allies. Before the fight against the orcs, Elijah might have refused, but now, he had few reservations about an official partnership.

After that, the pair chatted a little, and when the time came, Ramik led him outside. Soon enough, they’d crossed the city until they reached the outskirts. In the distance, Elijah saw a large pyramid of lumber. It took him a moment to realize that it was intended to be fuel for a funeral pyre.

When they arrived, most of the city was already there. Still, the memorial service wasn’t meant to start until after dark, so Elijah took the opportunity to study the pyre. It was constructed of raw lumber, and he noted that each small body that had been placed upon it was wrapped in pristine white cloth.

“Shame, ain’t it?” came Kurik’s voice.

Elijah glanced to his right to see that the dwarven scout, with his spiky black hair and short beard, was standing next to him. He wore an unreadable expression upon his sharp-featured face.

“It is,” Elijah agreed. “I wish we could have saved more.”

“Me, too.”

After that, the pair went silent, and as the evening turned to night, the rest of the city turned out. Once the sun had completely set, Ramik stepped forward and gave a speech. It was short and to the point, detailing the noble sacrifices of each casualty of the battle. He also extolled the virtues of the defenders, giving them credit for what they’d accomplished, both for Ironshore and for the world at large. For if they hadn’t stopped the orcish horde, it would have swept across the lands until it had conquered everything or someone else had stepped up to kill them.

Finally, once Ramik had finished his speech, he stepped up to the pyre and summoned a fireball, which he cast into the dried lumber. It went up in flames a moment later, burning bright and fast as the city’s residents said goodbye to their lost friends and family.

It served as a reminder that Elijah still had a task before him. He wasn’t ready to resume his search for his own family, but he certainly hadn’t forgotten the personal quest. With that in mind, he watched the flames burn alongside everyone else.