13-18. Finishing Preparations
“Vhalor, the Emerald Tyrant is the unquestioned leader,” said Zek. Elijah’s understanding of the language had progressed well over the previous couple of months, but he still needed to concentrate to understand everything.
By anyone’s reckoning, learning a language – even to mild fluency – in only eight or nine weeks was a great achievement. But Elijah still found his lack of linguistic talent frustrating. By comparison, Benedict could already speak the native language like he’d been born on Gorveth.
“But he is no dictator. He needs the others as much as they need him,” the old hunter went on. “Step lightly around his followers. They follow a martial heritage that is second to none.”
Elijah nodded. He’d been briefed on the other members of the Synod as well.
“Serathe, the Mirror Saint and Marith, the Bloomless Sovereign are allies,” Zek explained. Then, he went on to detail the others. They all had flowery titles attached to their names. Like Ko’rien, the Hollow Voice. Or Orvelis, the Unblemished. Lurien was known as the Flame Warden, while Tessarion held the title of the Sculpted Grace. Daelith had the unenviable moniker of the Stillborn, while Vaedren was described as the Silent Crown.
“Each of those titles represent their natures, don’t they?” guessed Elijah.
Zek confirmed that they did, explaining everything he knew. However, when he’d finished, he added, “My information is likely outdated. It has been more than a century since I fled Ithalon.”
“Why did you leave?”
“The tyranny of appearance offered no hope,” he stated. “I was one of the pure. A citizen of the Gilded Reach and a member of the Emerald Guard. I committed a most egregious sin that they would not tolerate.”
“What kind of sin?” Elijah asked.
“I fell in love with the wrong woman,” he stated evenly. “She is long dead, but I still remember her touch. She was one of the Impure and our relationship would not be endured. I faced punishment. She faced death. So, we fled, and many others fled with us.”
He looked away, obviously lost in memory. “Almost all are dead now. Few of us survived the first exodus. Fewer still survived Ithalon’s reprisal,” he explained. “We persevered, fleeing further and further. Seven times, they found us. They pursued us across an entire continent until, at last, we escaped their wrath. Kalina made it with me, but the corruption claimed her within a year of settling Dravkein.”
“I…I’m sorry,” Elijah said. He’d gotten to know Zek a little over the past months, and against all odds, he actually liked the man. He carried himself with a rare dignity and displayed even rarer competence. Officially, he was not the city’s leader. Instead, it was ruled by a council. However, he was obviously the strongest man in town, and everyone there respected him, as much because of his even demeanor and long experience as his raw power.
Elijah had difficulty gauging the stage of his development, but he felt certain that Zek was an early demi-god with decent cultivation.
“And those crystals let you traverse the abyss?” asked Elijah.
He’d already learned as much, but he had also been told that they were temporary measures.
He shook his head. “No. These are poor imitations,” he answered, his hand finding the crystal hanging from a thong around his neck. “The others lasted years before they began to break. That was when we started to change. Most had already been taken by impurity, but I was pristine. When my skin blackened, I despaired. I accepted it, though. We all did. Even the ones who fully succumbed.”
“They became monsters,” Elijah guessed.
“They did.”
“You were forced to kill them, weren’t you?”
He nodded, tears in his eyes.
“Was that how Kalina died?”
“I ended her misery, just as I had helped so many others,” he admitted. “I still regret it, even if I knew it was necessary.”
Elijah’s eyes found the floor. He had no idea how to respond to a man’s admission that he’d been forced to kill his own beloved. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be strong enough to take that step.
What if it was Sadie who’d been corrupted? Carmen? Miguel? Or any of his other friends? Could Elijah kill them if there was no other choice?
“By the grace of all the gods, pray that you are never faced with such a choice,” Zek advised, rightly guessing the course of Elijah’s thoughts.
“Do you have any advice for once I reach Ithalon?”
“Your battle does not end with the journey,” Zek stated, taking a sip of his tea. It was one of the luxuries available in Dravkein. “Ithalon is a place of deep corruption. Do not trust your eyes. Theirs is a world of false faces used to hide true evil.
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“The original members of the Synod are long dead, but their legacies live on in their progeny. They were the reason we failed the system’s test. Their insistence on petty jostling for power robbed us of a chance at prosperity,” he explained. “And their descendants are no different. They care not for the fate of their people. They are only concerned with their own paths. Remember that, and you may survive. Forget it, and you will certainly fail in your quest.”
“You make it seem so hopeless.”
“It is. A single man cannot change the course of an entire world. Our mistakes continue to haunt us. We are doomed, even if we refuse to accept it.”
It was the clearest Zek had ever been, and though his cynicism was expected, it was still disappointing. Everyone in Dravkein knew they were living on borrowed time – none more than Zek himself. One day, their rings would fail, and they would all be overwhelmed by corruption. It was not a matter of if it would happen, but rather a question of when.
“There are those in Ithalon who might help you, though,” Zeke revealed. “In the lowest levels of the Veiled Spire, you will find a woman called the White Memory. Naika. Give her this token, and she will assist you in your quest.”
With that, he handed Elijah a small, crystal coin. On it was engraved a depiction of a veiled woman, and though the disc emitted only a trace of ethera, it pulsed with a very distinct signature that was only detectable when his fingers brushed against its surface.
“Who is she?”
“An old friend,” Zek replied. “She will help. Of that, I am certain.”
Elijah nodded, then thanked the black-skinned man. “Is there anything else?”
Zek shook his head. “No. Your success or failure will depend on your own actions. This is the only assistance I can offer. I regret that I cannot do more.”
“Why are you helping me?” Elijah asked.
“Because I remember what it is like to seek something better.”
It was such a simple statement, but in that single sentence came a note of hope that Elijah hadn’t expected. Perhaps Zek wasn’t as resigned to his people’s demise as he’d first appeared to be.
Once again, Elijah thanked the man. But it was obvious that their time together had come to an end. So, he pushed himself to his feet and left Zek’s home. It was a small dwelling. Barely more than a single room, and located near the slaughter yard. It was not the sort of place one would expect to find the most powerful man in the city, and yet, it fit Zek’s character.
Perhaps it was a form of self-inflicted punishment.
Or maybe he was humble enough not to care about material things.
Either way, it left Elijah with an even stronger wave of respect for the man.
Elijah departed the small, round-walled house behind and headed deeper into the city. His progress still drew eyes wherever he went, largely because he was one of the only people in town who showed absolutely no signs of corruption. But he was forced to admit that his notoriety was probably tied to simple novelty as well.
At least no one was hostile, though.
The next couple of hours were spent gathering supplies. He had a good idea what to expect from traveling across the planet, so he knew precisely what he needed. Food and water were the most important, but he also bought new clothes and a set of armor in the style favored by the local hunters.
It had been created from monster hides, so it was reasonably durable. More importantly, it came with some extra attributes – fifty to each category – as well as a small enchantment meant to protect the wearer from extreme temperatures. Elijah’s constitution attribute was high enough that he wasn’t going to die from exposure anytime soon, but a little comfort went a long way.
He also bought rope, some extra blankets, local soap, and a few other odds and ends that might come in useful. He even bought their version of toothpaste, which left his mouth feeling much fresher than normal.
And finally, he visited a barber who spent a distressingly long time trying to tame Elijah’s admittedly wild and matted hair. In the end, the only solution was to hack most of it off, though he did manage to save his beard.
So it was that, a couple of months after arriving in Dravkein, Elijah once again set out into the desolation of the excised planet.
He did take a moment to look back at the city, only to find that it was the same as when he’d arrived. Deformed farmers still worked the fields. The city peacefully existed, an island amidst the corruption of the abyss. But two figures stood atop the wall, staring in his direction.
One was Benedict. Did he regret his choice to stay behind? Perhaps. But he stuck to it. Whether he was driven by cowardice, apathy, or simple logic didn’t matter. He had given up on returning to Earth.
Next to him was the likely reason.
He and Jasai’i had spent long hours together. Their mutual infatuation had begun the very moment they’d laid eyes on one another, and it had continued under the guise of language lessons.
For Elijah’s part, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d latched onto him with an ulterior motive. Did she see a chance to bring a powerful newcomer into the fold? Gorveth was a dangerous planet, and a competent fighter would be a great boon to Dravkein. That she might seduce him into staying was a definite possibility.
She might have even been motivated by his lack of mutation.
After all, their society seemed to put great stock in appearances, and Benedict was an admittedly handsome man.
Or maybe the connection was genuine.
Stranger pairings had happened.
Not that it really mattered. Regardless of the reasons, the results were the same. Benedict had made his decision, and once again, Elijah was alone.
With a sigh, he turned away and continued his journey across the rings surrounding the city. In the two months since arriving in Dravkein, he’d examined them even more closely, but he still wasn’t certain how it all worked together. But each time he passed one of the rings, he felt the atmosphere grow more corrupted.
By the third, he was forced to reactivate his Mantle of Authority. When he did, he allowed the branches to spread to their full diameter. They did so more forcefully than ever before. For all that trekking across the excised world had been agonizing, it had also fortified his soul. Now that he’d had a chance to let it fully recover, that much was obvious.
For a while, he just reveled in the newfound strength until he retracted it to within a few inches of his body. Doing so conserved ethera as well as the structure of his soul, which he knew would become a necessity going forward.
After all, he had a long way to go, and once he passed the final ring, he’d have no real protection against the corruption. Finally, he found himself standing just inside the final circle, unable to take that last step.
It should have been easy.
He’d already proven he could endure the environment.
But he still hesitated, dread and fear enveloping his mind. It was easy enough to keep going when there was no other choice. It was something else altogether when he could just as easily turn back and save himself a mountain of pain.
In the end, though, Elijah mustered his willpower and plunged ahead. Going back wasn’t an option. His path lay ahead. He just needed to walk it.