14-40. The Garden

Elijah slithered through the air, circling Tura and Birk as they drifted on summoned clouds. To his senses, they seemed no more solid than mist. But somehow, they supported the two drakes.

“A world serpent?” asked Tura, showing surprise for the very first time. “And a juvenile at that. Interesting.”

Elijah was barely listening. Instead, he was captivated by something he hadn’t expected. When he’d first beheld the towers, he had assumed that they extended all the way to the ground far below. That just was not the case. Instead, they ended in mid-air, supported by nothing but ethereal flows he couldn’t really understand. Each one came to a slender and ornamental point.

The same was true of the bases of the bridges, establishing Ashakar’s nature as a floating city. Elijah had seen plenty of magical things, but for whatever reason, the draconic city hit him harder than anything else ever had.

Far below, Elijah saw a green canopy that practically writhed with vitality. The massive jungle stretched as far as he could see, broken only by rivers and streams cutting their way through the rainforest.

On her cloud, Tura descended, and Elijah followed. He was much faster than her, but considering he had no idea where they were going, he found himself eagerly circling the pair of deities.

The distance between Ashakar and the surface was much greater than he’d expected, and it took them a few minutes reach the canopy. Tura guided her cloud into a cleverly disguised gap between the branches, leading Elijah into the forest.

It felt like coming home.

The ethereal density was cloying, and he suspected that, had he not been protected by Scales of Infinity, he would have found it quite uncomfortable. But the vitality was even higher.

Everywhere he looked, there was life.

Flora, fauna, and everything in between. He sensed so many varieties of plants that he lost count, and that wasn’t even considering the bacteria and fungi. Or the insects, reptiles, and even a few tiny mammals.

In short, it was like he’d crossed into a Druid’s paradise.

They wove their way through the trees until, almost a minute later, they found the ground. Tura touched down first, followed by Birk. Elijah slithered in place for a few moments before shifting back into his human form.

“Animists are quite rare,” Tura said.

“Are they? There’s another one in my grove back home,” Elijah responded, trying to ignore the ethera sickness twisting through him.

“Protect them,” she said. “They are very vulnerable in the earliest levels.”

“Don’t I know it,” Elijah muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Without his cultivation, he never would have survived. Even so, he wouldn’t have traded his first class for any other. Then, something hit him. “Wait. You’re a Druid, aren’t you?”

The question was largely unnecessary. Elijah had sensed her nature attunement the second he’d met her, but he hadn’t suspected that she was a Druid until she’d led him down to the surface. Even though he was quite certain of the answer, he still wanted some confirmation.

She smiled, giving him precisely the answer he’d expected. “I am.”

That explained a lot. But it also brought with it a lot of questions.

“When you helped my nephew, you appeared to be human.”

“We did,” she said. Birk grunted. “Or was that a question?”

“How?”

“A Projectionist was hired. She gave me many options when it came to my appearance. I chose one that would not alarm the boy,” she answered.

“He also said you controlled a time bubble?”

“The Hourglass of Extationis. Lent to me by your adopted mother. It is a powerful artifact typically used for more important things than training a brat,” she allowed. “You will have no such advantage. It is forbidden.”

“By whom?”

“You will learn more at your banquet,” she stated, pointedly refusing to answer his question. “Follow me, boy. My garden is nearby.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she planted her gnarled cane into the ground and shuffled ahead. Birk grunted again, nodding him along. “Go.”

Elijah shook his head at the man’s surliness, but he didn’t remark on it. Birk just wasn’t a people person, and that was perfectly okay. In any case, he followed Tura. Her slow pace meant that he had plenty of time to admire his surroundings.

The trees were no species he’d ever seen before, which was not surprising. He was on a different world, after all. A different universe, in fact. But despite the obvious differences, trees were trees. They still functioned in much the same way, and along the principles he’d grown to expect.

Some of the other flora was less representative of his expectations, though. Many of the vines moved of their own accord, and he sensed more than a few carnivorous plants. None tried to eat their small party, but Elijah suspected that things would have been very different if he or Tura hadn’t been there.

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Birk wasn’t nature-attuned, after all. If he had been alone, he would have had to fight his way through the jungle.

The fauna was both more and less variable. Less, because almost everything showed some draconic influence. Despite looking like reptiles, most of the animals were warm-blooded. But even with that shared characteristic, their forms were quite varied. Some, like an armored herbivore that reminded him of a reptilian armadillo, were enormous. It was the size of a school bus, but it left them entirely alone.

There were also tiny, gecko-sized lizards that were obviously venomous. And the beasts ranged through every size between those two extremes.

The bacteria, fungi, and insects followed that same dichotomy of broad familiarity combined with entirely alien presentation.

And Elijah found it all fascinating.

So much so that he barely even realized that they’d arrived at their destination. Tura cleared her throat, getting his attention.

“Oh. Sorry,” he muttered, taking in Tura’s garden.

It was a disappointing sight. Not because it wasn’t impressive. The expanse of land contained hundreds of species of flora, all planted into orderly rows. Beyond that small field was a simple hut with a thatched roof. A curl of smoke snaked up from a stone chimney.

“Not what you expected?” she asked.

Elijah shrugged. “I guess not,” he admitted. The hut would have looked at home on Earth, and compared to the city far above them, it was a woeful sight. Cozy, sure. But definitely a long way from the artful architecture he had seen in Ashakar. “But…”

He trailed off.

“What is it, boy? Ask.”

He remained silent for a second before going on, “You’re a Druid. Where’s your grove?”

“I see.”

“What?”

“You believe that all Druids have groves, do you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “We all get Ancestral Circle.”

She shook her head. “I nearly forgot how ignorant you are to the ways of the multi-verse,” she said. “This world, do you think it is unclaimed?”

“Uh…”

“Of course not. This entire planet is the domain of Risak the Benevolent. A drake who rose above his lowly station to become the Administrator for this world,” she explained. “He is, in turn, subordinate to Najai the Merciful. A dragon who is below only Prosperity herself. Those overlapping domains are so pervasive that they leave no room for a grove. Not for a mere deity like me.”

“That’s…really? You can’t just go elsewhere?”

She laughed. “Why would I? I have never known a grove of my own, so I have no idea what I’m missing,” she admitted. “Besides, I am no combatant. I would be killed within a few years unless I brought an army to protect me. I neither have the desire nor the authority to do that.

“No. I am content with my little garden.”

Elijah shook his head, embarrassed of his ignorance. And because of his assumptions. In his mind, a Druid without a grove was no true Druid. But perhaps he needed to adjust that perception, because people like Tura could clearly exist just fine without one.

But even with that resolution, he couldn’t help but pity Tura. She would never know the joy of seeing her own grove prosper. Next to that, a garden – no matter how magnificent – was nothing. A substitute, surely, but a poor one in context.

“I apologize,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make assumptions.”

“Bah – it’s not the first time,” she said, poking him in the stomach with her cane. “Come, come. We must acclimate you to this world, and we have little time with which to act.”

Despite Tura’s nonchalance at Elijah’s faux pas, Birk was staring daggers at him.

Elijah chose to ignore that. Maybe he’d get over the indignation.

Regardless, Elijah followed Tura into the admittedly impressive garden. As they passed row after row of crops, Elijah found himself swimming in dense vitality and ethera. It was only when he reached the hut itself that he recognized something very important.

It all felt just like a grove. The same thread of belonging that wove itself through his island was present in Tura’s garden. And yet, it was different. Foreign. As if it belonged to someone else.

“This is –”

“Not another word, boy,” Tura said, having anticipated his realization. “Do not speak of it.”

“Does Kirlissa know?” he asked.

For once, Birk didn’t hit him for using her name.

“Of course. Do you truly believe I could get anything past her? It is here because she allows it. But just because she knows, that doesn’t mean her chosen Administrators are aware. So, as I said – be silent on this subject.”

Elijah didn’t need further encouragement, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. Tura wasn’t without a grove, after all. It was just hidden, at least until one stepped inside the garden. But now that he wasn’t blocked by some sort of camouflage, Elijah could feel it as easily as he felt his own grove.

“Don’t look so self-satisfied. An ascendent could have figured it out,” she stated.

Elijah didn’t believe that for one second, but he didn’t argue.

Instead, he followed Tura through the garden and into the hut. It looked much as he’d been led to expect from its external appearance. Which was to say that it was all rough-hewn logs and simple, wooden furniture. A massive cauldron – at least five feet wide – hung inside the equally large fireplace. Something bubbled within.

Dried herbs hung from the roof beams, filling the air with a wide variety of scents that reminded him of Biggle’s cabin.

“Are you an Alchemist?” he asked.

“Sit,” she ordered, gesturing to one of the chairs. Birk had remained outside, so it was just the two of them in the hut. Elijah obeyed the order as Tura approached the cauldron. When she reached it, she grabbed a clay mug from atop the stone mantle and filled it with a ladle of whatever substance she’d been cooking inside the cauldron.

After that, she returned to Elijah and handed the mug over.

“Drink.”

“Are you going to answer me?”

She sighed, settling into another chair. Elijah noted that it was cushioned, unlike the one he’d taken. “You are going to keep pestering me, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

She just shook her draconic head. “Very well. I am not an Alchemist. My class is called the Wyrmroot Sage.”

“And it gives you some alchemy skills, right?”

“Some. Now, drink.”

Elijah glanced at the still bubbling liquid in the cup. It did not look appetizing, and he could feel the powerful undercurrent of ethera and vitality. “What does it do?”

“Makes you grow big and strong,” she sighed. When Elijah still didn’t drink, she muttered, “You’re going to be a difficult one, aren’t you? Why can’t you be like your nephew?”

“Just tell me what it does, and I’ll drink.”

“Very well. It’s going to make you very, very sick,” she stated. “In that mug is a concentrated blend of ethera and vitality. It will overload your system and give you ethera sickness. You will feel like dying.”

“Oh, well now I have to drink it,” Elijah deadpanned.

“You do if you don’t want to pass out at the banquet tomorrow,” she stated. “We must acclimate you in a hurry.”

“It won’t kill me, though, right?”

“No.”

Elijah sighed. “Well, bottom’s up, I guess,” he mumbled. Then, he brought it to his lips. As the first drop hit his tongue, he heard something that almost made his heart stop.

“Probably not, at least.”

He almost choked as he tried to pull the mug away. But Tura was a deity, and before he could even move, her hand clamped down over the mug.

“There, there. Drink it all. Good boy.”

And he did, whether he wanted to or not. When it was done, Tura took the mug. And before she turned away to put it back on the mantle, a wicked smile spread across her face.

“This is really going to suck, isn’t it?” Elijah muttered.

“Most certainly, boy. Most certainly.”