The next morning, Elijah awoke to the sound of birds chirping. He glanced at his open balcony, only to see a pair of robins perched on the branch-like banister. He contentedly watched them for a few minutes before they flew away. Only then did Elijah climb from his mossy bed and stretch his arms out wide.

It was the best he’d slept in a long, long time. Maybe since before he’d been diagnosed with cancer. Almost a decade of bad sleep tended to wear on a man, and in a way he’d scarcely even noticed.

For a few minutes, he just enjoyed the feeling, but then, the responsibilities looming over him cast that into shadow. It was a reminder that he couldn’t just sit around and relax. Not for long, at least. Original content can be found at novel⦿fire.net

With that in mind, he made himself a large cup of coffee, sweetening it with honey before stepping out onto the balcony to savor it. As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice that Rosabella was already training. At present, she was sprinting back and forth on the beach. Oddly, there was a crab nearby, but it ignored her presence. Only when Elijah looked a little closer did he see that it was occupied with eating a pile of offal.

“Clever,” he muttered, recognizing her method for what it was. She’d distracted the crustacean with the one thing it understood – food. Idly, Elijah wondered if a crab could be trained via that method. The creatures were quite dull, but it didn’t need to be that intelligent to understand where its food came from.

It was a fascinating thought, but one for another day.

Another area of interest came from the previous day’s activities. Were they responsible for the lightness of his spirit? Or was it a side effect of his mind cultivation? Getting rid of all that trauma had certainly left him more clearheaded.

Not that it really mattered, though. For all that he’d enjoyed spending time with the children, he knew he couldn’t afford to do it often. There were just too many other demands on his time.

After he finished his coffee, he headed inside and took a shower before dressing in one of his simple outfits. No armor. No intimidating suits. Just a linen shirt and matching pants. As usual, he went barefoot. He didn’t even bother donning his footwraps or helm.

In Ironshore, he wouldn’t need it.

After checking his appearance in the mirror, he also withdrew his scales. It was so much easier now, though Elijah wasn’t certain why that would be. Perhaps his Natural Shapeshifter trait had grown stronger. Whatever the case, when he looked at his reflection, he saw someone who looked almost normal.

His eyes still had a slight glint to them, but most of their unique nature was hidden behind his attempts at concealment.

Still, as he looked at it, he felt a sense of wrongness he couldn’t quite place. It was like looking at an old photograph and being reminded that he wasn’t that person anymore. It also came with a note of annoyance, as if the very act of hiding his scales – or eyes – was offensive.

He swallowed those emotions.

The disguise, such as it was, wasn’t there for him. It was there for the benefit of Ironshore’s residents. Him being there was disruptive enough, but it was even worse when his scales started glinting in the sun.

With a sigh, he turned away and headed outside. In a moment, he’d taken on the Shape of the Sky and was winging across the strait. Thankfully, it was early enough that the city’s streets were mostly deserted, so it only took him a moment to find a nice, empty spot to land. He still got a few looks, but by that point, the sight of his flight form was common enough that it no longer incited panic.

Progress was slow, but it was still ongoing.

After buying a pastry at a local bakery, Elijah proceeded to his destination. Griff’s premises were closed, and Elijah had no clue where the dwarven Leatherworker lived. So, he resolved to settle in to finish his pastry while he waited.

By the time an hour had passed, he grew impatient, so he spent the next few minutes asking around. Doing so gave him a few leads as to where to find the Leatherworker. The first was the Hunter’s Guild, which was where he’d originally met Griff. However, when he got there, he discovered that it was also closed.

So, he next headed to the Forge of Creation, which remained active at all hours. Before looking for Griff, he went to Carmen’s smithy, but for the first time in recent memory, she wasn’t there.

A little wandering later brought him to the Alchemy laboratory. Along the way, he’d gotten quite a few curious looks, but it was obvious that no one wanted to tell him that he wasn’t allowed to just meander through the Forge of Creation. So, the second anyone recognized him, they scurried away, presumably terrified of drawing the dragon’s ire.

“Finally,” he breathed when he saw Biggle hard at work.

Without looking at him, the gnome held up one finger, saying, “Stop.”

Elijah took another step.

“I said to stop. Do not take another step unless you want to blow everything up.”

“Everything? As in, the room?” Elijah asked, glancing around. That would be a great loss. The laboratory itself wasn’t so different than the smithy. The dimensions were similar. However, the space had been filled with worktables and benches, each containing a veritable fortune in glassware. There were also huge vats containing bubbling liquids in one corner, while another played host to strings of herbs hanging from the ceiling.

“As in the entire building,” Biggle answered, finally turning to face him. “Go outside and wait there.”

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“But –”

“I’ll explain everything. Go.”

Elijah let out a tired sigh, then backed out of the room and into the hall. There, he sank to his backside, crossed his legs, and turned his attention inward. He’d just completed the most recent advancement in mind cultivation, but that didn’t mean he had time to rest on his laurels. Instead, he needed to immediately get to work on his core, which he knew would take some time to develop.

At present, it looked like a blend of a simple sphere and a seed, but he knew it couldn’t advance until his imagery was perfect. For a model, he’d settled on one of the ancestral tree seeds, which he hoped would one day sprout into roots that would connect to the trunk of his body. In turn, that would complete the tree imagery.

But even imaginary trees took time to sprout, so to speak. And he was a long way from taking the next step. In addition, he didn’t have a suitable venue. He’d already outgrown the cultivation cave, as evidenced by his recent experiences. And it was going to be much weaker now that he’d consumed the last of the leviathan’s bones.

Idly, he felt a pang of regret at that, but it didn’t last. As much as he wished it could have been preserved, he believed he’d made the right choice.

Regardless, he occupied himself with his musing on cultivation until, at last, he felt Biggle leave the laboratory. He clutched a pair of tiny vials in his hands, though Elijah couldn’t discover anything else about them. After all, Soul of the Wild was only capable of sensing living things. Normally, he used that to perceive bacteria, which gave him a sort of life-based radar.

But it wasn’t perfect.

And, given that the laboratory was effectively free of all bacteria, the glass vials were entirely clean. The contents were also shielded from him – probably a trait of the glass, which was obviously enchanted.

He opened his eyes and asked, “Why didn’t you want me in there?”

“Do you have any idea what sort of ethereal fluctuations surround you?”

“Uh…”

Elijah hadn’t thought about that and he said as much.

Biggle let out a harumph, then said, “You should. If you would have come into that laboratory, it could have set off a chain reaction. Everything in there would have exploded.”

“Suppose that makes sense,” Elijah said, climbing to his feet. “What is it?”

“Resin meant to coat glass,” he said. “There is an Artist who specializes in stained glass who will buy as much of it as I can make.”

“What does it do?”

Biggle shrugged. “Protection. It might enhance the final product if he knows what he’s doing,” he said. “I didn’t ask. I just accepted the job and got to work. So long as he pays my fee, I’m happy.”

“What if he’s making a weapon or something?”

“Why would I care?”

Elijah opened his mouth to respond, but he didn’t really have a proper retort. The reality was that weapons were more than necessary in their world. It genuinely didn’t matter if Biggle’s work contributed to that kind of thing.

“Fair enough, I guess.”

“Why are you here? Do you need potions? Something for crafting, perhaps? Cultivation?”

Elijah shook his head, but then he remembered the Riftseed. He pulled it from the storage space in his ring, then handed it over. As Biggle took it, Elijah asked, “Can you do anything with that? It’s supposed to –”

“I know what it can do. Do you think I wouldn’t recognize a Riftseed? Where did you get it?” asked Biggle.

“Rift.”

“Do you have any idea how rare this is?”

“Uh…very?”

“Exceedingly. They only appear as rewards for the most powerful of rifts, and only for ones that have been left to fester. Even when those circumstances are met, they are rare.”

“Guess I got lucky then. Can you do anything with it?” Elijah asked. According to the appraisal he’d gotten, it was meant to upgrade items.

“No. Not yet.”

“Why not?” Elijah asked.

“I need to ascend. I’m only a few levels away,” Biggle admitted. “I also need to grow some ingredients to properly use it.”

“How does it work, though?”

Then, Biggle explained it. The idea behind it was simple enough. All he had to do was process the Riftseed, then combine the result with a variety of other ingredients to create a potion. That substance would then be applied to an item, upgrading it.

It was simple.

But the limitation was crippling. It would only work with growth items. He only had one of those – the Arcane Loop – and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to waste such an opportunity on something that was working perfectly fine as it was.

So, he said, “Take your time. Make sure you get the highest quality you can.”

After that, he asked Biggle the question he’d come to ask – chiefly, where he could find Griff. As it turned out, the Leatherworker was currently toiling in one of the Forge of Creation’s workshops. Biggle gave him directions, and he went on his way.

After getting turned around a couple of times, Elijah finally reached his destination. When he approached Griff and got his attention, the Leatherworker was not happy to see him.

“I was beginning to think you had forgotten about the commission,” he said. “If it was anyone else, I might have sold it to another customer.”

“But you didn’t, right?”

“I have not,” Griff answered. He glanced at his project, which was a strip of leather submerged inside a vat of some sort of foul-smelling liquid. “I suppose that needs to soak for a bit. Follow me.”

Elijah did, and soon enough, they’d left the Forge of Creation behind. The dwarven Leatherworker strode purposefully through the city until he reached his shop. Inside, Elijah saw racks of fine leather goods. There were mannequins bearing hardened armor, long coats hanging from the wall, and a host of other items like belts and bracers. The smell of it all was overwhelming, but in a good way.

“Always did like the smell of fresh leather,” Elijah admitted.

“You get used to it,” said Griff, disappearing into the back of the shop. Elijah took that opportunity to browse the goods on offer, though he didn’t have time to find anything to buy before the dwarf returned bearing a sizable crate. He opened it to reveal something shiny.

Elijah leaned close, seeing that it was the wasp carapace – so dark green that it almost appeared black. He reached inside and held it up.

“Vespid Raiment,” said Griff. “Armored chitin plates embedded into leather taken from the wasp’s internal tissue. Four pieces. Go on – try it on so we can ensure a proper fit.”

Elijah disappeared into a nearby room to do just that. As it turned out, the four pieces in question were easily identified. The first item was an armored coat, tight-fitting but cut in such a way as to be perfectly moveable. It reached down to mid-thigh, and was meant to be cinched by a wide belt. A pair of gauntlets and padded leather pants were the two other pieces.

Unfortunately, Elijah confirmed that he got no benefit from wrapping the Sash of the Whirlwind around his waist. As always, he could only wear one type of each item.

He’d need to investigate to see which would be better.

However, he couldn’t deny that he looked good in his new armor. The chitin glistened in the light, and what’s more, when he looked upon it, a thrill of pride swept through him. At first, he thought it was just an appreciation for a dashing outfit, but he quickly surmised that it went further than that. Deeper. He just didn’t know where it originated.

In any case, he stepped out of the fitting room and let Griff inspect everything. The Leatherworker made a couple of adjustments before he declared that it all fit perfectly.

“Do you have the attributes of it?” Elijah asked.

“Of course,” Griff said. “I will include it in the box. If you’d remove the armor, I will arrange everything for you.”

Elijah did just that, and Griff spent the next few minutes arranging everything into a display box that was something of a work of art on its own. When he was finally finished, he handed it over. Elijah paid his fee, and, without further ado, headed back to the island.

After all, he only had a couple more tasks to complete before he needed to decide his next move.