Book 4: Chapter 8: Final Preparations

Book 4: Chapter 8: Final Preparations

Elijah awoke a little before dawn, but he didn’t immediately rise. For one, he didn’t want to wake Miguel, but for another, he wanted to spend an hour cycling ethera through his Core. He wanted to create a routine that would, over time, better prepare him for success. So, he pushed himself to a seated position, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes before getting down to the task at hand. This time, it took him a little longer to saturate his Core, which he took as a good sign, but he cut himself off after only one cycle.

The rising sun told him that it was time to get on with the primary objective. With that in mind, he woke Miguel, who rose and turned an accusatory, bleary-eyed gaze in Elijah’s direction. “What’s the rush? We could sleep in,” he complained.

“Sleeping in is how everyone else gets ahead of you,” Elijah cautioned. “That’s what my dad used to tell me. When I was your age, I didn’t really believe him, but now, I realize he was a lot smarter than I ever gave him credit for back then.”

Miguel asked, “What was he like?”

“Old and wise.”

“C’mon. Be serious.”

“Ouch,” Elijah muttered, running his hand through his hair. Having a thirteen-year-old chastise him for not being serious was a bit of a blow to the concept of his own maturity. “Fine. He was about my height. Maybe a little taller. And he had the kind of tan you only get from spending years outside. He never wanted to be indoors. Whenever he wasn’t working, he wanted to be camping. Or fishing. Hunting, maybe. Sometimes, he just went hiking. Your mom and I used to go with him all the time. So did mom. She liked to gather herbs and stuff. Mushrooms, too. Those were good times.”

“They got in a car wreck, right?” Miguel asked, his voice small.

Elijah nodded. “Yeah. One day, they were there. Happy. Healthy. Like two monuments that I thought would never disappear. But then, the next day, I was standing outside as your mom identified their bodies,” Elijah said. “It didn’t feel real. Not to me. Not until the funeral. But even after that, for years, I would turn around and half expect them to be there.”

That was why he ran away after high school. Sure, he usually categorized it as going off to college, but in reality, he’d done it to escape the memory of his dead parents. It hadn’t really worked. Only time could do that. But he’d been a stupid kid with equally dumb ideas.

“But without the things they taught me, I never would have survived the touch of the World Tree,” Elijah said, surprised that, even after all this time, no tears came. Usually, they did when he really thought about his parents. “Though I thought I was a better campfire cook before everything happened. I mean, I wasn’t good. I used to joke that I could burn water. But it wasn’t –”

“That’s because you don’t have a cooking skill,” Miguel said. “Right?”

“What? A cooking skill?”

“Yeah. Lots of people have them,” his nephew explained. “It’s part of one of the archetypes. Maybe a couple of them. But without it, food just kind of tastes bland. Before...everything happened with mom, we went to school, and my teacher, Mr. Gary, said that it was because of ethera. Like, our bodies need it, so if food doesn’t have enough of it or something, it ends up tasting bland. That’s where the different cooking skills come in. They inject ethera into normal food.”

Elijah just stared at him.

It explained so much. Maybe the problem wasn’t that the crabs on his island didn’t taste good. The issue was with him and his lack of cooking skills. Perhaps those same crabs, cooked by someone with actual ability, would taste amazing. It also put some of his other experiences into perspective. Like how every time he visited a new town, he found someone whose cooking was even better than what one would expect in a five-star restaurant.

“Are you okay?” asked Miguel.

“You just blew my mind.”

“Huh?”

“I need to hire someone that can cook,” Elijah said, his mind already going to his coffee project. What would happen if he roasted the beans himself? Would the product be inferior? He hoped not, but he wasn’t willing to take that chance. Sure, now that the trees were approaching maturity, they would bear fruit far more often, but he didn’t want to waste his precious coffee cherries on a failed endeavor.

After all, the whole point was to make delicious coffee that had beneficial properties like his grove berries. If he ruined that by roasting his own beans, he’d never forgive himself.

He shook his head. “You just added an item to my to-do list,” Elijah said. “Thankfully, it can wait.”

“Until after you kill Roman?”

Or threatened his family.

In any case, he led Biggle to the beach, then used one of the rowboats to return him to Ironshore. Meanwhile, Miguel went to train near the old cabin. He only paid attention to the young man for long enough to know that he was in no danger before turning his attention to other matters.

While he was in Ironshore, Elijah spent some time topping off his supplies before returning to his island. He hated using the rowboat, but if he didn’t take it back, no one else would pick up the slack. So, he got to rowing, and when he reached the island, he retrieved his old jars, filled them with a scentless oil he’d bought in Ironshore, then stuffed a bunch of lavender into each one.

By the time he finished taking his revenge, the infused oil would be ready for another batch of soap.

He’d just finished that task when Carmen returned to the island. He’d considered stopping by her new smithy, but he hadn’t wanted to disturb her. So, he waited until she got back to the grove before heading out to meet her.

“It’s time, isn’t it?” she guessed.

Elijah nodded. “I’m leaving in the morning.”

Then, he described his plan. His intention was to use the individual teleportation function of Roots of the World Tree, which worked on a different cooldown than the gate portion, to travel to the Circle of Spears outside of Seattle. Then, he would use Shape of Air to fly to Easton.

Hopefully, he could reach the city in a day or two.

“I don’t know how long I’ll stay there. It depends on if I want to destroy the city,” he remarked.

“You think you can do that?” she asked, her face smudged with soot.

Elijah shrugged. “Maybe. Not quickly, though,” he said. Calamity could do a lot of damage, and in a wide area, but it was not strong enough to tear down buildings. “It would take a while.”

He expected Carmen to argue on behalf of Easton, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “Make him suffer.”

“I will,” Elijah promised.

Indeed, that was one of the reasons he was even considering the city’s total destruction. From what Carmen had said, Roman valued that city more than anything, so its destruction would assuredly cause him more pain than anything else Elijah could do.

“But more than anything, I need you to survive,” Carmen stated, reaching out to grip his arm. “Miguel is safe here. It’s been so long since we had that. And without you, that all disappears. So, survive.”

Elijah intended to do that, too. But if it came down to a choice between taking his revenge and his own death, Elijah wasn’t certain which route he would choose. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come down to that.

“I talked to a friend while I was in Ironshore. Kurik. He’s a scout,” Elijah said. “He’s coming by tomorrow to pick Miguel up. It’s not quite an apprenticeship – that won’t come unless Miggy gets the right archetype and class. But it’s training. Kurik’s going to show him woodcraft, trapping, and hunting. I told him that it was all subject to your approval, though, so if you don’t want it to happen, just tell Kurik when he comes by.”

“You’re willing to let him into the grove?” asked Carmen.

Elijah nodded. “He’s a friend,” he said. “I trust him.”

“Then so do I,” Carmen stated, adding that the plan had her approval.

“Well, since I’m not leaving until the morning, do you and Miggy want to go have a last meal at the Stuck Pig? Hopefully, they’re not still serving orc ribs,” he said.