14-65. Spellcraft

“Every ability is perfect,” said Tura, hobbling back and forth, each step accompanied by the click of her cane against the hut’s wooden floor. “Every user is flawed. The end result is a reflection of that combination.”

“But perfection doesn’t mean all-powerful,” Elijah recited. “We’ve been over this.”

She smacked him with her cane.

“Do not sass me, boy.”

Elijah sighed. “How close I come to reaching an ability’s full potential is determined by a variety of factors. The first component is my cultivation. Second comes my attributes. And then, my ability to stretch the spell or ability formation to its limit.”

“Good. You can learn,” she stated. “Which makes me wonder why you continue to fail.”

Elijah’s jaw flexed as he ground his teeth together. In addition to his training with Birk, he’d continued to work with Tura. Some of her lessons dealt with Druidic principles, like how ecosystems fit together. Those were easily digested, largely due to Elijah’s background as a biologist. But most of her instruction concerned his spells and how to get the most out of them.

And Elijah was terrible at it.

Or maybe he just lacked the foundation to easily do what Tura expected of him. The result was that he spent most of his time with the old drake completely frustrated by his lack of success.

That wasn’t to say he hadn’t made progress. He had. According to Tura, his spells were approximately twelve percent more powerful now than they had been when he’d arrived months before, not even considering the improvement coming from his increased attributes. Yet, she still claimed he had a long way to go. Not just to reach his current potential, but to lay a foundation for the deity tier, when people were expected to guide their own spell evolutions.

The system would still do the bulk of the work, but if someone lacked the knowledge necessary to properly steer the process, the end result would be much weaker than it should be.

That was a lot of pressure.

And Elijah figured that he would need the entirety of the demi-god tier before he felt comfortable with his knowledge.

He intended to beat that estimate, though. All it took was hard work, and Elijah was never one to shy away from that kind of thing.

Tura nudged him with her cane. “Focus.”

Elijah wanted nothing more than to take that cane from her and break it across his knee. The problem with that was that Tura was a late-tier deity, which meant that she was as much stronger than him as he was stronger than a vanilla human being. The gap might’ve even been wider than that.

And he suspected that her cane was a high-grade artifact, meaning that he probably couldn’t have broken it even if he had the chance.

With that in mind, he had no choice but to endure her abuse. Not that it really hurt that bad. But the sting was annoying.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to endure that for very long, because he still had his physical training for that day. So, after spending another couple of frustrating hours on spell composition and ethera manipulation, Elijah reported to the training grounds, where he found the big drake waiting for him.

“You’re late.”

“Tura kept me longer than expected.”

“Likely because you didn’t learn enough in the allotted time.”

“I…you know what? That’s fair,” Elijah allowed. He didn’t want to make excuses for his poor performance. For one, Birk wouldn’t tolerate it. And for another, he didn’t want to lean on that kind of thing. If he failed, it was his fault. Was that always true? Of course not. But blaming outside factors was unproductive.

“Warm up.”

Elijah nodded, then followed the big drake’s order. Soon enough, he lost himself to the rhythm of exercise, and he seamlessly transitioned from the warm-up to the actual workout, finishing with a sparring session. He was soundly beaten, but that was nothing new. Birk was a deity himself, and Elijah suspected that he was an anomaly even for his level of power.

But they still made significant progress, and when they finished, Elijah felt both exhausted and enlightened. It would fade a bit over time, but he usually ended up ahead of where he’d started.

“Do you know what you will do tomorrow?” Birk asked.

Elijah nodded. “I think I have a good plan.”

“And if it fails?”

“I have a handful of good plans,” Elijah answered. That was one thing Birk had drilled into him. Battles rarely happened with adequate warning, but when such a situation presented itself – as it had with the tournament – he had a responsibility to build a branching web of strategies that would hopefully see him through.

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“Good,” Birk said with a nod. “Water mages are a difficult match.”

Then, he went on to explain how a good water mage could take direct control of the water in their opponent’s body. Elijah had already seen it happen to Alrhok, so he knew exactly how devastating it could be.

He hoped that his combination of high constitution and advanced cultivation would protect him from such a fate, but he had planned for the worst. Over the past week since learning the identity of his next opponent, he’d also spent quite a lot of time specifically training for what he’d seen from Imal na Rosi.

As Elijah cooled down after his workout, he and Birk discussed his plans. The big drake poked holes in most of his strategy, but in the end, he grunted, “It’s acceptable, given your limitations.”

“That’s the positive reinforcement I was looking for,” Elijah quipped, pushing himself to his feet. His legs were still unsteady from the workout, and they would remain so until he left the training grounds. “You coming to the match?”

“I will watch from your mother’s pillar.”

“She’s going to be there?”

“I do not know. I would not see her, regardless. She sits at the peak. I would never be permitted to climb so high.”

“That sucks.”

He gave the slightest of shrugs. “It is the way of the world.”

“Not every world.”

“My world. I do not care for any of the others.”

Elijah sighed. “Fair enough,” he admitted. Then, in an effort to change the subject, he asked, “Any last minute tips?”

“Don’t lose. Your mother would be disappointed.”

Elijah couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Predictably, Birk failed to see the humor. Or if he had, he chose not to acknowledge it.

In any event, they parted ways soon after, and Elijah retreated to a secluded spot in the surrounding jungle. Once there, he deployed his tent, then took a long, refreshing shower beneath the localized rainstorm summoned by Blessing of the Grove. When he finished, he ducked into his tent and ate a meal stored in his Arcane Loop.

It was flavorful and satisfying, but Elijah had long since discovered that his love of good food came from more than just the meals themselves. Rather, he craved company. Camaraderie. Fellowship. Whatever one wanted to call it, it was the secret ingredient of any pleasant meal.

Briefly, he considered heading up to Ashakar and visiting one of the restaurants. Or seeing if Sara was available. Kaela was at her family home, deep in training for her own upcoming fight.

So, he was all alone.

And though Elijah was accustomed to that state, that didn’t mean he didn’t miss company. There was value in solitude, but at the moment, he had some difficulty seeing past the loneliness.

After his unsatisfying meal, Elijah curled up in his blankets and tried to go to sleep. Unconsciousness was a long time coming, largely because his mind insisted upon racing through the next day’s fight. He also contemplated his plans for the future, largely focusing on the imagery that he intended to spread into the rest of his cultivation system.

But in the end, he fell asleep.

Thankfully, he didn’t dream, and he awoke to the chirping sound of the reptilian avians that called the planet home. Yawning, he picked himself up and, once outside, stretched. The smell of humidity and a brief thunderstorm from the night before filled his nose.

And for the moment, Elijah sank into it. Into nature, where he’d always felt most comfortable. Where he’d always felt like he belonged.

So it was with a clear and relaxed mind that he donned his armor, gathered his belongings, and shifted into the Shape of the World Serpent. After that, it was a relatively short flight to the Praesidium.

When he made it to the dressing room, he found Tura waiting for him.

“Are you prepared?” she asked.

“I’m as ready as I can be,” Elijah answered. He’d spent more time specifically training for this opponent than any other, and he felt that he understood Imal na Rosi better than any foe he’d ever faced.

But only time would tell if his preparations were sufficient.

“Good. Saraalinisa asked me to tell you to break a leg,” she said. “An odd request.”

Elijah shook his head, then explained, “She’s been trying to learn more about Earth.”

Then, he went on to elaborate on the phrase’s meaning, citing the superstitious avoidance of wishing someone good luck.

“That is the silliest thing I have ever heard,” Tura stated.

Elijah shrugged, responding, “Can’t really argue with that. But in my experience, people are usually at least a little silly. We lean on all sorts of crutches when we don’t want to face stressful situations.”

“Regressive attitude.”

“Probably. But sometimes, people just need a little comfort.”

“I suppose that is true, boy.”

Before the conversation could go any further, the attendant came to fetch him for the upcoming battle. Tura didn’t wish him luck. Instead, she just nodded and told him to remember his plan.

After that, he followed the attendant through the snaking corridors of the Praesidium and to the door leading to the arena. Despite having participated in nearly a dozen other tournament fights, Elijah still felt butterflies dancing in his stomach. Anticipation, excitement, dread, and worry all warred for his attention.

He ignored them all, pushing them into a single leaf inside his mind.

The rest, he intended to dedicate to the fight itself.

After the Chronomancer tetradrak created his anchor, Elijah settled in to wait until, at last, the door swung open of its own accord. Elijah stepped out into the bright sun, Thorn in hand and the crowd roaring at his arrival. He wasn’t certain if he’d reached fan-favorite status, but according to Sara, he had drawn quite a lot of support from the population of serpentors and drakes. The dragons were decidedly mixed.

Or outright cheering against him.

Even when his opponent was a human like Imal na Rosi. Like Okar, she was a serpentor, though she lacked his foundation of wealth. Instead, she had scratched and clawed her way to the top through sheer will, talent, and unwavering dedication.

Elijah could respect that. If he’d been one of the spectators, he would’ve been cheering for her.

But she was his opponent, and he pushed aside his feelings to focus on the upcoming battle.

As he came to a stop, he studied his foe.

She looked similar to the last time he’d seen her. The woman lacked the slightly disconcerting beauty of someone like Kaela, but from what Elijah could tell, she was still attractive enough. Stern, certainly. Kind of like Sadie, but blue armor that looked like crashing waves.

And maybe without the judgement, though Elijah didn’t want to dwell on that.

In fact, the less he thought of her, the better. Elijah had moved on. He really had. And he hoped to develop something with Kaela. But every now and then, he found himself plagued by intrusive thoughts.

In this instance, he pushed them aside.

Thankfully, that was when the Curator began his spiel. The introductions were a little longer this time, largely because both Elijah and Imal had proven themselves in previous rounds. As such, they’d both gained a little more notoriety. And fanbases that demanded long-winded introductions, apparently.

Either way, by the time the Curator shouted for them to fight, Elijah was more than ready to get things underway.