15-35. Three Paths

“You really shouldn’t be here.”

Elijah didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Mano had arrived. Even if he hadn’t sensed his adopted brother via Soul of the Wild, his presence was anything but subtle. His every movement sent ripples through the air, churning the local ethera in an umistakeable way.

“Can you control it?” Elijah asked, his eyes finally flipping open as he turned to look at the other dragon.

Mano stopped next to him, the weight of his footsteps marring the surface of the mushroom. As a defense, the massive fungus spurted powerfully infectious spores into the air. They swirled around Mano as if they had a mind of their own, though he paid them no attention.

If he’d been a mere deity, perhaps they might have found some purchase in his lungs. They wouldn’t kill quickly, even then. Instead, they would slowly grow into an infection that would eventually replace his nervous system with a mycelial network. At that point, the affected person would cease to be themselves.

Would something remain? A sliver of their mind, trapped in a world not of its making? One where it had absolutely no control and lived at the whims of an unknowable creature.

It would be a bad way to die, but an even worse way to live.

Fortunately, neither Elijah nor Mano needed to worry about infection. For the former, it was because of a combination of his attunement, high-tier body, and the inroads he’d built while communing with the massive mushroom. He’d been out there for the better part of two days, just watching the constant battle of fungi, and in that time, he’d come to something of an arrangement with the thing.

Doing so had required the use of Shape of Spores, which the mushroom had initially regarded as an attack. Only when Elijah had proven himself not to be a threat had it begun to tolerate his existence. It took a few more hours before he felt it was safe to return to his dragon form.

In Mano’s case, his functional immunity came from the simple and overpowering reality of his transcendence. The mushroom was strong. A high deity on the cusp of transcendence itself. However, the difference between the two was the breadth of an uncrossable ocean.

It could no more harm Mano than Mano could hurt Kirlissa.

“Control what?” asked the dragon as he sat next to Elijah. His halberd was thankfully nowhere to be seen. Simply setting that thing on the mushroom’s surface might have caused another battle of self-defense.

“Your aura,” Elijah answered.

“Why would I?”

That simple question typified the dragon’s entire philosophy. He was as uncomplicated and straightforward as anyone Elijah had ever met. If he had an issue, he said so. If there was a problem, he tried to solve it. And if he couldn’t, then he would go down swinging. That was probably why he spent so much of his time in the abyss.

Or maybe his time in the abyss was why he was like that.

Out there, the situation could be as simple as one wanted it to be. And Mano liked it very, very simple.

“For one, you’re hurting the mushroom,” Elijah stated. “For another, have you thought about what would happen if you encountered someone who couldn’t handle your presence? I’m not sure, but the ripples that flow from your every move would probably explode a mortal.”

“I don’t meet many mortals,” Mano said, scratching his chin. “None, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered one.”

“Really?”

“When would I?” he asked.

That was when Elijah remembered that draconic child-rearing meant letting their children find their own way, effectively living as beasts until they developed sapience. Normally, that coincided with ascension as well as the first step in core cultivation.

“Do you have children?”

“Of course. Thousands,” Mano answered. “Though only a hundred or so actually reached sapience. Of those, there were seven dragons. The rest were drakes.”

“Grandchildren?”

Mano answered that he had plenty of those as well, though the majority were drakes. He tried to act as if that didn’t disappoint him, but Elijah knew him well enough to recognize the truth of it. And as much as it violated his sense of equality, Elijah understood it. The future of the species was at stake, and draconic culture had developed with an understanding of that fact.

It was the same reason that the slur half-scale followed Elijah around. For better or worse, he had the power of a dragon. The shape and identity of one. But he could never actually add to the species – not in the simplest terms. He could never father dragons. Instead, his future children would be drakes at best, and then only if he coupled with another dragon. If he partnered with a non-dragon woman, they would be serpentors.

Did that matter to him, though?

A little, even if Elijah tried to act as if it didn’t. For years, he’d internalized his identity as a dragon. But since reaching the Empire of Scale, he’d had that self-realization slowly eroded until he had begun to wonder if the bigots were right. Was he less of a dragon? Was he even a dragon at all?

Status said he was. His core agreed. The undeniable reality of nature was the lone, powerful voice of dissent.

Could the source be clearer? The author publishes this chapter on NovelPhoenix, but it was copied here without approval.

“Have you ever granted anyone a core?” Elijah asked.

Mano sighed, “Once.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing good.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Mano shrugged, the movement resulting in a much stronger ripple. It stripped a few layers from the mushroom’s surface. Like a caustic wind made of ethera and the dragon’s presence.

“Most granted cores are of middling success,” the big dragon explained. “People have difficulty accepting the draconic identity. Either they keep going the way they’d always gone, but with more power, or they dive deeper into their new race. Many become power-hungry zealots.

“Mother is irregular, in that regard,” Mano went on. “It would require a Scholar to explain the numbers, but her success rate is…uncommonly high. Take you, for example. If there was ever a born dragon, it is you, brother.”

“But what does that mean?”

Mano didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he stared across the cavern, taking in the mushroom forest for a few moments. Then, at last, he formulated a response. “Many believe it comes down to dominance,” he said. “That is part of it. Dragons are superior, it is true. There have been stronger races, but they are all but gone. Grand titans, true phoenixes with wingspans like fiery galaxies, and apsara who could move a forest with a crook of their fingers. So many more, gone now. The titans gave way to giants, phoenixes devolved into beasts, and apsara were killed by enemies of nature. Some of their blood – or sap, I suppose – runs through spryggents and dyrads, but it is much weakened from the height of their power. Even as those more powerful fell, dragons persisted. So, maybe it is about survival.”

He went silent for a few more moments, but Elijah didn’t fill the empty space between them. He knew Mano wasn’t finished.

Finally, Mano went on, “I think it’s worldview that makes a true dragon. A refusal to surrender, even when reality tells us to do so. The strength, of body, mind, and soul to do what is necessary. Not for the individual, but for the pride of an entire species. It is freedom and endurance, dominion and power. It is the refusal to stray from your path.” He turned to fix his unfathomably deep gaze upon Elijah. “In short, it is you, brother. I envy that.”

“Really?”

Mano shrugged. “I saw it in the tournament.”

“You were at the last fight,” Elijah said.

“I was at the other one, too.”

“Skahan.”

“Do you know what I saw that day?” Mano asked. “Most of the crowd stared in horror as you took that snake apart. I could feel the discomfort of the crowd. But the transcendents? They have all seen worse. Most have done far, far worse and so many times as to lose sight of the horror inherent in the act. They tried to stop it, though. Do you know why?”

Elijah shrugged.

“Pride and realization. They saw in you the intestinal fortitude to do what was necessary. And that frightens them,” he said. “Transcendents, afraid of a child. Afraid of what you represent.”

“What’s that?”

“The rise of a true dragon. Not a copy of a copy whose entire identity is built on cultural heritage and learned behavior,” Mano explained. “Through the strength of instinct alone, you act the way they all wish they could act.”

He ran a thick-fingered hand along the shaved part of his head. “Would I have gone that route, had I been given the chance?” he asked. “I don’t know. I learned how to be a dragon before I could understand the difference between true and taught identity. I hope so.”

Elijah didn’t respond, mostly because he was too stunned to do so. After all, it was difficult for him to wrap his thoughts around the fact that Mano, a transcendent tens of thousands of years old, envied him.

A slight smile spread across Mano’s face, and he shook his head. “I made a fool of myself shortly after she granted your core,” he revealed. “I thought it a mistake. A misuse of power that could have aided in our war against the Ravener’s forces. How much of that was built on the shifting foundations of my ire for my mother? I don’t know. Some, at least. Probably most.

“But as much as we frequently disagree, there exists one unassailable truth,” Mano went on. “Mother is smarter than all of us. We should trust her judgement.”

“What’s the nature of your disagreement?” Elijah asked. He’d caught snippets here and there, and Sara had posited more than a few theories. Some centered on an ancient scandal, but others probably hit a lot closer to the mark. So far, Elijah hadn’t felt comfortable to ask for the truth.

“Everything,” Mano admitted. “There is a natural clash between those of us who choose the martial path and the non-combatants. It is doubly existent because she abandoned her combat class in favor of hybridization. For most, that is an admission of cowardice that stings the scales of every true Warrior.

“But no one could ever truly call Prosperity a coward. Despite her administrative focus, she has spent more time on the front lines than I’ve been alive,” he continued. “Mostly, our disagreements come down to a difference in philosophy. Do you know how transcendence works?”

Elijah shook his head. “Not really.”

“The term is literal. Transcending the system. However, the degree to which we transcend is variable,” he answered. “There are three paths for a transcendent to improve. The first is to gain levels and take advantage of the system’s continued guidance. Levels means attributes and ability evolutions.”

“So, more of the same?” Elijah asked. “Do the levels ever stop? Is there a maximum attainable?”

Mano shook his head. “As far as anyone can know, they continue infinitely,” he answered. “Mother regards that as the easy path, though most transcendents – especially those on the front lines – would disagree. For we have seen what infinite levels can do. It is the favored path of the devourer, though many of their most powerful figures diverge from that rule.”

“The other two?”

“Cultivation,” Mano stated. “It is regarded as the most difficult path, largely because it not only requires increasingly personal revelation, but also due to the realities of the process. You will soon learn that resources are much more difficult to find at the higher tiers. In addition, it is extremely time-consuming, and without the constant trickle of improvement that comes with the other paths. However, none can deny the power. Mother favors this method.”

“The final?” Elijah asked.

Mano answered, “It is referred to as alternate advancement. Imagine the ability to enhance the quality of a single attribute. Or improve upon an aspect of a spell. Perhaps you wish to increase your movement speed. Or your survivability by entirely negating your need for sustenance. The possibilities are endless. Some routes are practically useless. Others are vital. The only guardrails are your imagination.”

“I don’t understand. How does that work?”

“Kill energy. Experience, as some call it. Normally, it is funneled into levels. However, once you transcend the system, you will discover the ability to siphon it into an alternate pathway toward advancement,” Mano explained. “This was the precursor to the system. Truly self-guided improvement. I don’t think I need to tell you that it was much more difficult, and that many would-be geniuses fell away because they chose to direct their energy into the wrong things.”

Elijah could easily imagine that. While the idea of infinite possibility was intriguing and attractive, he knew as well as anyone just how easily that could go awry. If it had been up to him, he’d have begun his journey by making survival on the island easier. Less food required to survive would have been an incredibly easy choice, but ultimately, it would have put him on a very different path.

Likely, he’d never have survived what followed.

“Now you know more than most non-transcendents,” Mano stated. “This is closely guarded information, so I trust your discretion. In the meantime, I came to fetch you. We have an event to attend.”

“Another one?” Elijah asked.

Mano grinned. “We’re dragons. The only thing we like more than dominance is ceremony.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Come, brother. Let us attack this as true dragons.”