Book 5: Chapter 66: Connections

Book 5: Chapter 66: Connections

Elijah crept forward, his footsteps barely making a sound as he held his hand outstretched. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached toward the creature. It cringed away, letting out a pitiful whine, but it didn’t run. It couldn’t.

“Shh,” he breathed. “It’ll be okay.”

The beast clearly didn’t trust him, but that was the inevitable consequence of its experiences. A large arrow jutted from its shoulder, the head buried deep enough that it had nicked a lung – at least judging by the foamy nature of the blood. Finally, Elijah’s hand grazed its green fur, and he felt the sheer terror coursing through its tense muscles.

But they were weak.

The animal was dying.

And Elijah intended to change that. But first, he needed to ensure that it trusted him because, otherwise, it would bolt the second the arrow came out. Behind him, Elijah could feel the others’ eyes. They were all watching him, their opinions written clearly on their faces.

A few were empathetic, hanging on the fate of the animal as keenly as he was. However, they comprised the obvious minority, with most of the others just looking at him like he’d gone crazy. And then came the other end of the spectrum. The ones who wanted nothing more than to kill the beast.

“This is stupid,” growled one grizzled man carrying a spear. “That thing is worth half a level of experience.”

He stepped forward, his intentions clear.

“Stop,” Elijah said, his voice still calm. He didn’t need to do more. No threats were necessary. They had seen his capabilities first-hand, and they knew what it meant to cross him.

It should have been enough that he’d saved them. After that, they should have listened to him. But some people just didn’t understand the concept of gratitude. Or empathy. They only knew how to kill.

Any other time, Elijah might’ve tried to understand the man’s point of view. But he knew that if he gave him an inch, the man would take a mile.

Thankfully, the man stopped. That wasn’t surprising, after what had happened. He’d just watched Elijah tear through a group of ka’alaki hunters that had pinned his whole party down. He wasn’t about to oppose someone so clearly above him. But he still didn’t look happy about it.

“Fucking hippy-ass mother fucker,” he muttered.

Elijah turned his attention back to the animal. In many ways, it looked like a sloth, though with a much stouter frame and a wide snout armed with tusks. It was a powerful animal that would have provided the group standing at bay with a decent enough challenge – assuming that they could even find it. Its natural camouflage would have made it nearly invisible in the jungle, and the only reason they’d found it was because one of the ka’alaki hunters had hit it with a stray arrow. That had knocked it from the tree, where it had fallen and broken a bone in its leg.

Finally, Elijah’s fingers closed around the arrow. The shaft was thick enough for a spear, and he knew from experience that the arrowheads were wickedly barbed. That meant that pulling the arrow free would do quite a bit of damage. More distressingly, it would be agonizingly painful for the animal.

Not for the first time, Elijah wished he had a spell that could help with that. That lack was one of the things that separated him from true Healers like Ron, though. As he’d often thought, though he could heal, he was not on the same level as someone dedicated to that role.

He put his other hand on the animal’s shoulder, feeling the thick fur of its hide. It was so soft that Elijah could easily imagine that it had once been hunted for its fur, much like minks had back on Earth. He pushed that out of his mind, braced himself for what was coming, and yanked the arrow out.

The beast screamed.

And with every ounce of Strength it possessed, it tried to escape. But Elijah held it down with one hand, already casting Nature’s Bloom. Then, he used Soothe. Finally, he added Healing Rain.

So, he pushed their reaction to his assistance out of his mind, focusing instead on that feeling of connection he’d felt with the unnamed beast. There was something there. Something that he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around. Something important. Something powerful.

Yet, as much as he wanted to figure it out, understanding eluded him as he made his way back to his own party. Elijah had adopted the habit of exploring their surroundings each time they made camp – not for threats, but rather, for more hints as to the excised world’s history. When he’d read the Tragedy of War, he’d gotten a few facts, but he knew there was far more to the story than what had been documented in that guide.

He'd discovered very little in the days since, but he had seen quite a lot of ruins. The scope of the architecture – even crumbling as it was – suggested a sprawling civilization whose influence had once been even more pervasive than humanity’s back on Earth. The highlight was when he’d found what he’d thought was a large pond, but upon further inspection, he’d discovered that it was a huge amphitheater that once must’ve seated thousands. It had since filled with water, but its presence told Elijah that there had been more to their culture than the conflict detailed in the guide or the various art he’d seen.

Upon further reflection, he realized that that fact should have been obvious. If one looked at humanity’s art from the bulk of their history, they would see a pattern of violence and war. Because those events were historic. Few artists ever thought to capture the mundanity of everyday life, and even if they did, those pieces rarely survived long enough to be studied by following generations.

The same was likely true of the excised world’s history.

There was more to the natives than he’d ever really considered. It was so easy to look at them like he looked at the denizens of towers, like they weren’t truly real. But that wasn’t the case. They were a fallen people with a rich history and a complete culture that he would probably never understand.

But that thought brough to mind a simple question. Would the same thing one day happen to Earth? Would some other race be sent there on a Trial and see some of humanity’s wonders – like the Pyramids of Giza, the Eiffel Tower, or the Statue of Liberty – and see them as mere set dressing? Or would they endeavor to understand the meaning behind those landmarks? Would they try to understand humanity? Or would they simply kill Earth’s natives in hopes of gaining experience or some other benefit?

Those questions – and many more like it – accompanied Elijah all the way back to the camp. It was still night when he arrived, and everyone but Kurik had retired to their respective tents.

Elijah sat next to the dwarf, and after a few minutes, Kurik asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

“That’s never good,” the dwarf said, filing a stake meant for one of his traps. “What’s on your mind?”

Elijah told him, and when he was finished, he asked, “Is that what’s in store for Earth?”

“Maybe,” Kurik answered. “Maybe not. Depends on you.”

“Humanity will fight for –”

“Not humanity. You. You’re the strongest person in the world. There will come a time when people look to you for protection. For answers. For direction. The question is how you intend to respond.”

“There are other strong people out there. Sadie and –”

“You’re fooling yourself if you think they’re on the same path as you. You’ve got the Dragon in you. And Dragons lead. They don’t follow,” Kurik stated. “Always have, always will. Because as much as all the other elder races want to pretend they’re on the same level, they aren’t. The others might be elders, and they have more power than most can comprehend. But Dragons? They’re the founders, and deep down, everybody knows it. They all feel it in their bones, and the further you progress down your path, the more you’ll understand just how far above them you are.”

Just then, Elijah heard a stick snap, and he jerked his attention in that direction. Then, he saw something that caused his breath to catch in his throat. Kurik stepped out of the brush, still buckling his belt. When he saw that Elijah was staring at him, he asked, “What? Can’t a dwarf take a piss without...”

Elijah didn’t hear the rest. Instead, he turned to face the other Kurik he’d just been talking to. But there was nothing visible. Instead, there was only a whisper of power that he recognized as belonging to the Dragon matriarch he’d only met a single time.

“Kirlissa,” he muttered, both comforted and terrified by what he’d just experienced.