14-37. Departure

“Everyone else wanted to come,” said Carmen, a sleeping toddler cradled in one arm. She shifted a little, but little Eli didn’t awaken. “You should’ve let them come.”

Elijah shook his head. “We already said our goodbyes,” he pointed out. In addition to the banquet, he had sent what felt like a thousand messages to acquaintances and allies, explaining that he was going to be off-planet for a little while. He didn’t specify the length of his visit to the Empire of Scale, and not just because he didn’t know himself. Mostly, he didn’t want to put a timer on it because he thought some people might take advantage.

And besides, he could return at any time, should the need arise.

“It feels weird. Like there should be more people here. You deserve a bigger sendoff.”

Elijah grinned. “At least I got to spend a little time with my great-nephew,” he said. They’d had breakfast in Druid’s Park while Eli had crawled around, exploring everything he could find. His curiosity was contagious. “He takes after Miggy.”

“Let’s hope not. We want him to be a Tradesman. Or better yet, an Administrator. Something safe,” she said, her hand finding the toddler’s back. He was only a little more than a year old, but he was big for his age.

Because Hope had spent most of her pregnancy on the island, he was already acclimated to the dense ethera and vitality of the grove. That came with a host of benefits, not least that he was probably one of the healthiest babies to have ever existed. That acclimation would also set him up for a proper nature attunement.

There was no guarantee that it would be dominant, but it would be strong enough to join the grove, just by virtue of the circumstances of his birth.

A part of Elijah wanted to stick around and help his great-nephew develop into something special. To play the doting uncle. But he knew himself well enough to recognize just how miserable that would make him. It would be fun for a little while, but it wouldn’t be long before he found himself staring longingly at the horizon.

No – he wouldn’t sit still. He couldn’t. He just didn’t have it in him.

The line to access the Branch shifted forward a little. Carmen and Elijah went with it, and over the next few minutes, they slowly inched their way toward the crystalline tree at the center of the room. Thousands of people accessed it each day. Most used it to send messages to friends, family, and business contacts, but others were there to buy guides or check their bank accounts.

But very, very few used it for travel.

Largely, that was because of the existence of the Conclave Spires, which were far cheaper. Even if Elijah hadn’t been banned from using that man-made teleportation network, it wouldn’t have served his purpose. Because the only way off-planet – for now, at least – was to use the Branch.

Maybe one day the Conclave would establish Spires on other worlds, though Elijah knew just enough about space magic to recognize how big of a leap in complexity that would be. It would be years yet before anyone had the necessary expertise.

Sooner than Elijah had expected, his turn arrived.

“Well, this is me,” he said, hugging Carmen. “I’ll keep in touch. And if anything happens, just send me a message. If I don’t respond quickly enough, stand in the center of the grove and make a scene. I’ll sense it.”

“Be good,” she told him, tears in her eyes.

“Always.”

Then, at the Envoy’s nod, Elijah reached out to touch the trunk of the crystalline tree. He’d intended to go straight to the Teleportation Network, but when he saw a message, he couldn’t stop himself from reading it.

“Well, that just makes me want to misbehave.”

“What was that?” asked the Envoy, a dwarven woman Elijah recognized from his previous uses of the Branch. She looked a little older, but she was the same woman he’d met the first time he’d visited Ironshore.

“Nothing. Sorry,” he said. Then, he navigated to the Teleportation Network and found his destination.

Elijah gasped, which got the attention of the Envoy.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh…so much,” he answered. Then, under his breath, he mumbled, “Seven thousand platinum…”

To get some context, Elijah navigated to his Bank Account:

By all rights, he was one of the richest men on Earth. At least top five, though he suspected Atticus had claimed the top spot. Seeing that, after everything, he could barely afford ten percent of the cost to travel to the Empire of Scale was humbling in the extreme. It also showed him just how huge the multi-verse really was.

There were probably people out there worth millions of platinum ethereum. And there he was thinking that he’d arrived after accumulating less than a thousand. Elijah suddenly felt very, very small and insignificant.

But that wasn’t the most potent source of shock. Instead, that label belonged to the addendum to his travel itinerary.

“It says that I’m a representative of the World Tree and that I get a huge discount on travel,” he told the Envoy. He barely knew her, but she was the closest thing to an expert.

“You aren’t an Envoy.”

“I’m aware. Which is why I’m…I don’t want to say freaking out. But I’m freaking out a little here.”

Of course, it didn’t take a genius to figure it all out. His class evolution – Emerald Archon – was inextricably tied to the World Tree. It said it right in the description. And clearly, that came with a few perks.

It wasn’t until that moment that he realized something he should have recognized the first time he visited the Branch. Most Envoys enjoyed unquestioned authority in proximity to their assigned Branches. It functioned a lot like a domain, but with the backing of the World Tree itself.

Elijah had come up against just such a domain when he’d attempted to access the corrupted Branch in Ithalon. He’d been forced to flee that encounter, and he had only escaped by flexing his Mantle of Authority. Even then, it had been a close thing.

But now? In Ironshore?

The Envoy’s domain felt lighter than a feather, and he knew beyond a shadow of any doubt that she had no authority over him. She couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted.

He recalled the description of the Emerald Archon.

“Where you go, the authority of the World Tree follows,” he whispered to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Elijah told the Envoy. “It’s nothing. Just remembering something important.”

“I don’t understand why you would get that discount,” she admitted. “I don’t know what’s going on here.”

“I think we’ve just barely scratched the surface of what’s possible.”

Carmen, who’d remained silent and standing a dozen feet away, looked at him quizzically. “Is something wrong?” she called.

Elijah shook his head and gave her a thumbs up. “All good. Just a surprise is all.”

“Good surprise or bad surprise?” she asked, her voice echoing in the large chamber. Undoubtedly, if she and Elijah were any other two people, someone would have hurried them along. But as it stood, nobody wanted to get on the bad side of one of the highest level crafters in the world.

Or the man who’d recently destroyed a city.

Probably more the latter than the former, Elijah allowed.

In any case, he said, “It’s…good, I guess. Yeah. Definitely good.” He shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

Then, without further conversation, he navigated back to the Teleportation Network and bought passage to the Empire of Scale. That prompted another notification:

He had already known that teleportation wasn’t instantaneous. Even going from one Earth-bound location to another on the same planet took a little more than a second. But even knowing that, Elijah wasn’t prepared for nearly a month of travel time.

Elijah took a deep breath, then glanced back at his sister-in-law and great-nephew. With a grin, he said, “See you later.”

Then, he accepted the teleportation.

Instantly, his world went black as, over a fraction of a second, he was sucked into a tiny pinprick that pierced the veil between his reality and the void. It was so quick that most people wouldn’t have even noticed it, but Elijah’s combination of cultivation, attributes, and his enhanced reaction speed gave him just enough wherewithal to recognize the transition.

It felt like a blink.

And when he opened his metaphorical eyes, he saw a blue expanse of energy laced with green tendrils of life. As soon as he became aware of his new environment, he received another notification:

Elijah frowned.

Once he’d realized that teleportation would take time, he’d intended to work on his cultivation. But that was far too close to using spells or abilities for comfort, so he decided to refrain. What he would not do was waste three weeks, though.

So, he chose to refuse hibernation, though the system did send him another notification specifying that he could revisit the choice if he changed his mind.

With that settled, Elijah turned his attention to his surroundings.

The expanse of blue wasn’t nearly as ubiquitous as his first impression suggested. It filled his vision, but that was because he was surrounded by ethera so dense that it might as well have been water. Cutting through that was a lacy undercurrent of vitality which was probably responsible for keeping him alive during the teleportation process.

Or maybe it was just a side effect of being connected to the World Tree.

Whatever the case, Elijah sensed that it was more like a river than an ocean, and beyond its borders was the familiar void.

Elijah had half expected to find himself on one of the bridges he’d found during his journey from Gorveth back to Earth, but clearly, those were as Kirlissa had suggested. Artificial paths created by individuals – or groups – meant to ease the burden of traversing the void.

Once Elijah established the nature of his surroundings, he turned his attention inward. After all, for his core to keep pace with the rest of his cultivation, he needed to do quite a lot of work. Most of that came from absorbing ethera and expanding its bounds, but Elijah didn’t dare do that at the moment. The last thing he wanted was to destabilize the teleportation process.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t revisit the plans he’d made for when he reformed his core. The roots he’d once established were fitting, but that imagery was too simple to keep up with the other aspects of his cultivation system. He’d already reached a point where he was happy with the results, enough that he’d once attempted to take that next step. The plan could always be improved, though.

So, as he traveled, he got to work, losing himself in what he referred to as pre-cultivation. Hopefully, he would get a lot done over the next three weeks.