Path of Dragons - A LitRPG Apocalypse (BOOK TWO ON KINDLE SEPT. 2)

Sitting cross-legged in the center of the ritual circle, K’hana Tamira stared into the flickering candle flame. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not concentrate on her meditation. So, with an exasperated sigh, she let her shoulders slump in frustration and exhaustion.

“You fail because you lack focus,” said elder Hama.

K’hana glanced at the older elf, but bit back the scathing retort she so wished she could level at her unforgiving master. Like most elves lucky enough to reach any significant years, Hama showed only a few signs of her advanced age. Her face was largely unlined – save for a few crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes and a slightly more acerbic visage – but her hair was slate gray. As was the case with every other elf in Arvandor – and on the homeworld they’d been forced to leave behind – Hama wore the kushti. It was as much a ceremonial outfit as it was practical, created to help the sand elves of Erag weather the intense heat of their natural environment.

It was composed of a tight-fitting top with loose, billowing pants that had been tucked into soft, leather boots created from the hide of a bilo lizard. Completing the outfit was the akah, a long, flowing scarf meant to be wrapped around an elf’s head, protecting her from the harsh sun.

“I lack focus because I am anxious for what it is to come,” she stated. “If we are unsuccessful…”

“Life will continue. We will find another solution. You are a Water Witch. Learn to swim with the current, or you will be washed away.”

K’hana dug her fingernails into her palms. She’d heard much the same from Hama, and on so many occasions that she could recite her master’s lessons verbatim. Yet, knowing them was not enough. She needed to internalize them. To live them. To be like water.

She suddenly pushed herself to her feet, then said, “I am done meditating. I must ensure our guest has what he requires for the coming trials.”

Without waiting for a response, she left the ritual circle behind. As she traversed Arvandor, she marveled at the moisture in the air. Even in what the natives considered a desert, there was far more water available than nearly anywhere on Erag. Though it was often disconcerting, that trait was one of the few differences she appreciated.

However, there were a considerable number of other changes to which she had struggled to acclimate. Adapting to the presence of only one sun, instead of the three that populated the skies of Erag, the local population with their odd customs, and the threat of Voxx were among the most difficult adjustments.

On Erag, they never had to worry about monsters of any sort, which was, in a way, the reason so many had chosen to relocate to Earth. They never could have anticipated how difficult it was, constantly struggling for survival, fighting monsters, and with the threat of a Voxxian invasion always hovering over their heads. Many had died. Almost everyone else had regretted their choice to come to Earth.

There was no going back, though. Not unless they became much wealthier. It was possible. Newly touched worlds were often treasure troves, both in terms of leveling opportunities and natural treasures. But those advancement prospects came with proportionate danger.

Once she was a good distance away from the ritual circle – or more appropriately, Hama – K’hana found an unused corner of the city, where she sank to her haunches and ran her hand through her silky hair. With a sigh, she used Water Body, then stared at her skin as she twisted her hand back and forth. It shimmered in the city’s blue-tinted ethereal lights.