14-68. Preparation

Elijah tumbled backward, his breath forcefully expelled from his chest as he slammed into the ground. For a long few moments, he lay there, gasping for air that didn’t want to come. Finally, he picked himself up. As he did so, he rubbed his chest, wincing at the pain.

“I think you broke my sternum.”

Birk stood over him, his arms crossed. He’d planted his practice spear in the ground, where it stood next to him. “You were slow. Distracted.”

The big drake extended his hand, which Elijah took before being hauled to his feet.

“I know.”

“Do better,” Birk cautioned. “Voris will not be an easy match.”

“None of them are, at this point,” Elijah countered.

“True,” he agreed. “All the more reason not to let yourself become too distracted.”

“Is this where you tell me I shouldn’t have a life outside of training?”

“No. Relaxation and recovery are important for a fighter’s continued improvement,” he said. “No one can train all the time.”

Elijah turned away, rubbing the back of his neck. Pointedly, he didn’t heal himself. Not yet. He needed to remember what it was like to fight at a disadvantage, and his various bruises and broken bones – all delivered by Birk – were good for that. He intended to heal at the end of the session.

He stretched a little, testing his flexibility. The pain wasn’t really the issue. He could deal with that easily enough, even without shunting it into its own leaf. However, he couldn’t do anything about the difficulty of movement that came from the structural issues that came with various injuries.

But for now, he felt he could keep going.

“Again?”

Birk nodded, snatching his spear out of the ground. The two faced off.

In the months since he’d arrived in the Empire of Scale, Elijah’s technique had grown by leaps and bounds. If he fought the old version of himself, the result would end in a trouncing. Yet, he still found it almost impossible to land even a single blow against Birk.

Sure, every now and then, the big drake would allow him a small victory, but they both knew those openings were intentional. And it wasn’t about enhanced strength or dexterity. Birk remained under the same restrictions that sundered Elijah’s attributes. On paper, they were supposed to be equal.

And yet, Birk’s prowess made him an insurmountable opponent.

In the back of his mind, Elijah acknowledged that that was how things should be. After all, Birk was a deity. He’d spent countless years honing his technique. On top of that, he was a melee combatant who relied almost entirely on his weapon skills to ensure victory.

He was supposed to be better than Elijah, and by no small margin.

Elijah hated it, and he railed against his own limitations, letting them drive his need to improve. He focused on that, rather than the distractions plaguing his mind. And he attacked.

Soon enough, the clack of wood-on-wood echoed through the training ring. Both combatants moved like liquid, flowing from one stance to the next in rapid succession. To an outsider, it would have been obvious that Elijah was the student, because his style mirrored Birk’s so completely.

Yet, his mastery was incomplete, while Birk was as close to a finished product as one could be.

Elijah went high and low. He came it from either side. He jabbed and slashed. He even resorted to acrobatics, which Birk punished with vicious blows that made it obvious just how bad of an idea it was.

When Birk finally called an end to the training session, Elijah was covered in so many bruises that his skin looked more blue than its natural hue. He slumped to one knee, breathing hard.

“You did better. I hope it will be enough.”

“Yeah.”

Elijah ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair, then picked himself up. He wanted nothing more than to take a shower and spend a few hours relaxing, but he knew the value of a good cooldown. So, he spent the next hour engaged in light exercise and extensive stretching. At first, it felt like a waste of time, but after the first ten minutes, the practice began to work its magic. By the end, he felt significantly better.

Only then did he hop over the low wall surrounding the training ring. When he did, the influx of attributes hit him like a solid thing, taking his breath away. He steadied himself, then cast Wild Resurgence.

With a sigh, he felt relief surge through his exhausted muscles, mending broken bones and bruised flesh. Within a few moments, he was in perfect condition. The fatigue remained, though it had lost some of its bite.

Apparently, no amount of healing could replace rest. Not entirely.

After heading to the outdoor shower attached to Birk’s cabin, Elijah spent more than half an hour just basking in the cool rain from Blessing of the Grove. Then, he retrieved a bar of soap from his Arcane Loop and got to work on his sweat-stained body.

By the time he finished, he felt much, much better. The soap Tura had given him was decent quality. Better than what he could make, in fact. But it was tuned more toward cleaning than body cultivation, which meant that it felt inferior to his own product. Soon, he needed to make some more.

Maybe when the tournament was over and he returned to his grove.

Until then, he’d have to make do with Tura’s soap. Even if he didn’t much care for the smell.

In any case, the relaxing shower was a good distraction from the other issues on his mind.

Stolen novel; please report.

Or issue, singular.

It wasn’t long before his thoughts drifted in that direction, settling on his budding relationship with Kaela.

He hadn’t set out to let it happen. In fact, he had resisted it every step of the way. However, there was something there – some unquantifiable compatibility that drove them together. Part of it came from Sara, who kept arranging meetings. Some were group outings, either into nature or in the Reach, where Elijah and Kaela would inevitably end up alone in some romantic setting.

But that was just the backdrop.

The reality of the situation was that Elijah had been smitten from the very first moment he’d laid eyes on Kaela, and every moment he spent with her made it much, much worse. Or better, if he wanted a relationship.

There were so many reasons not to go down that road, though. For one, he still hadn’t completely recovered from what had happened with Sadie. He still loved her, though with time, he’d come to realize that their relationship had always been doomed. They were just too different, and their priorities were not aligned.

That didn’t make it hurt less, though. And Elijah knew, somewhere deep down, that if Sadie crooked a finger, he would come running. He hated that about himself. He knew it wasn’t healthy. But he was honest enough about his own feelings to know what would happen.

That feeling was slowly fading, though.

And Kaela was as responsible for that as the passage of time.

Everything about her screamed for his attention. It wasn’t just her appearance. It was the way she fought. The way she moved. The way she listened and the advice she offered when he needed a push.

Elijah had no idea how to quantify love, but he had a hard time thinking of the concept without Kaela’s presence popping into his mind.

Was it real, though? Or just mutual infatuation? Was there any real difference?

Elijah wasn’t sure one way or the other, but he did know that he couldn’t afford the distraction. Not with an upcoming fight looming over him.

His latest opponent was a dragon named Voris es Jasol, who preferred to fight with his bare hands. Or claws, when he used his dragon form – which happened frequently. According to what he’d seen in the dragon’s other fights, Voris relied on overwhelming physical attributes and impeccable technique. None of his other battles had lasted more than a minute, proving that he was a powerful fighter.

As had been the case since the first round, Elijah’s goal was to win the fight while keeping the true scope of his abilities hidden. However, he felt almost certain that he wouldn’t be able to win without digging deep into his bag of tricks.

But he would have to see.

Even if he lost, he felt pretty good about his performance so far. He wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to win. But being in the top few hundred demi-gods in the Empire of Scale was no easy feat, especially given that he hadn’t spent his entire life being groomed for it.

Those thoughts occupied him as he wandered back to Tura’s hut. However, when he arrived, he found a few people waiting for him. That wasn’t necessarily surprising. Barely a day went by when he didn’t have a visitor. Usually, it was Sara waiting for him, but of late, Kaela had frequented the hut as well.

Much to Tura’s apparent annoyance.

Elijah saw through it, though. The old drake doted on the young dragons, often stuffing them with whatever meal she’d been preparing. She also pestered them about taking care of themselves and focusing on training.

At present, Alrhok, Morin, and Okar sat around an outdoor table, sipping from dainty porcelain cups. A plate of pastries sat in the center of the table, though judging by the presence of so many crumbs, the trio had already eaten their fill. Tura hovered over them like a mother hen.

“That is why you mustn’t ignore your cultivation,” she was saying when Elijah approached. “Young people never want to work on their minds or souls. It’s all about body and core, eh? Nonsense.”

She said it in the same tone that a mother might tell her children to eat their vegetables, and it was received in that same manner. The trio nodded, saying they would do as she’d advised.

For what it was worth, Elijah agreed wholeheartedly. Every aspect of cultivation was incredibly important, though for different reasons. Mind and soul cultivation tended to be less flashy than body or core, but both had saved his life more times than he could rightly count.

“What’s up?” Elijah asked, sitting in an empty chair and grabbing a pastry. Tura smacked his knuckles with her cane. “Ow. What was that for?”

“No sweets the day before your fight, boy.”

“Oh, c’mon…”

She cut him off with a glare, and he held up his hands in surrender. As he did, he said, “Fine. No sweets. Geez.”

She gave a harumph, then set a steaming mug in front of him. “Drink.”

“What is it?”

Tura didn’t answer. Instead, she just continued to glare. With a sigh, Elijah obeyed her order. Unsurprisingly, it tasted foul, but that was true of all her recovery draughts. Elijah suspected that was intentional, though he’d never made that accusation aloud.

She hovered over him until he’d drained the last drop. Then, she left Elijah with his friends.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Alrhok was the one to answer. “The girls took a day trip to Ivikas on Asix Prime. Sara wanted to buy…something, and she asked Piki and Kaela to accompany her. I thought it would be nice to hang out, just us.”

“Guy’s night?” Elijah asked with a grin.

Alrhok shrugged. “Weird way of putting it, but yes.”

“I’m in.”

After that, it wasn’t long before they were riding a cloud up to the Reach. As it turned out, Okar was extremely familiar with the lower city, and he knew his way through the bar scene.

Within a few hours, everyone but Elijah was drunk. And loud.

At some point, Okar and Morin detached from the group so they could play some bar game that looked a bit like darts, but involved hundreds of projectiles, moving targets, and quite a lot of shouting.

That left Elijah alone with Alrhok.

And the big dragon wanted to address a subject that Elijah would have preferred to avoid.

“What are your intentions with my sister?” he asked, his words slightly slurred.

Elijah shrugged. “I’m not altogether sure. I like her. I think she likes me. We haven’t really talked about what that means, and I’m not sure I want to until after the tournament.”

“Hmm.”

“You object?”

Alrhok shook his head. “I don’t. My parents will.”

“Because I’m not a natural dragon.”

He nodded. “They’re not like that. Not really. They just can’t ignore the implications.”

Elijah was well aware that adopted dragons like him were incapable of having draconic children. His offspring would be human by race and drakes by social standing. Probably. He wasn’t that clear on whether or not they’d end up as serpentors. In any case, the only way to change that was if he reached a stage where he could grant them a dragon core, a process as costly as it was mysterious.

“They put a lot of stock in family legacy, don’t they?”

Alrhok looked away, letting out a rumbling sigh. “Something like that. They weren’t happy when I lost,” he admitted. “They were even more upset when I told them I had no intention of advancing to deity until I had a non-combat class.”

“What happened?”

“A lot of yelling.”

“No – before,” Elijah said. Normally, he wouldn’t have broached the subject, but from everything he could tell, Alrhok wanted to talk about it. He needed to. “What made you switch your focus?”

Alrhok didn’t answer. Not for a long few moments. But then, in a half-whisper, he said, “It was in a Primal Realm. My first. Fighting earth elementals. I should have been perfectly suited for it…”

That tracked. Alrhok had something like an earth attunement.

He continued, “They broke me, Elijah. I fought with everything I had, but…but everyone around me died. Hundreds. It would’ve been thousands if…if the commander hadn’t arrived with another army. Since then, I…I…I don’t know. I have nightmares. I hear their screams. The crunch of rock as it enveloped them in earthen cocoons. And then, the silence…that…that’s the worst. I…after that, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life fighting. I don’t want to have to watch my friends die. I just want a peaceful life.”

Elijah waited for a few moments before he reached out and gripped his friend’s shoulder. Alrhok was trembling. “It’s okay. There’s no shame in wanting peace.”

“Tell that to my parents.”

“I just may.”

Before Elijah could go on, Okar and Morin returned bearing mugs of spiced alcohol. Alrhok pretended that nothing had happened, resuming his jovial façade. It reminded Elijah of Dat. Pain masked by affability.

And this time, Elijah wasn’t going to let his friend endure it alone.