Elijah lay beside Sadie, his fingers tracing the line of her latest scar. Before she’d decided to delve into the Primal Realm known as the Eternal War, her skin had been smooth and unblemished. She’d endured plenty of injuries in her time, but none had been so terrible that they’d left visible remnants. Such was the advantage of magical healing. But now there were a handful of such reminders decorating her body, evidence that magic was not always up to the task.

The grisliest was the one on her back, but there were a couple of others that told a similar story of hardship and injury.

“They’re hideous, aren’t they?” Sadie breathed. Elijah had no idea when she’d awoken, but she didn’t even open her eyes.

“I think they’re beautiful.”

She turned her head, her eyes fluttering open. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he insisted. He pulled her closer. “Nothing hotter than a girl who can take the kind of hit that causes this and keep going.”

“You’re patronizing me.”

“I’m really not. Seriously. You think I’m going to judge someone badly just because they have a few scars? Have you seen this thing?” he asked, raising his arm. It was decorated with puckered scars from when he’d been digested by the whale. He sported a few other reminders of his exploits as well. “It’s all just part of who you are. Someone told me that these sorts of scars are the aftermath of wounds that go so deep that they cut our actual spirits.”

“That sounds terrible.”

Elijah said, “No. I mean, the wounds are. Yeah. But what’s beautiful is that we survived. We’re still here and living our lives in spite of everything that’s happened. If that’s not beauty, then I don’t know what is.”

She sighed.

Of course, Elijah knew that the aftermath of her year-long labor inside the Primal Realm wasn’t limited to a few jagged scars. She’d been through something horrible, and though she’d come out on top, that kind of thing left marks on a person’s mind and soul as well as their body. He knew that better than most.

Her explanation of her time in the Eternal War hadn’t been elaborate. Nor had it been terribly descriptive. Instead, it was just one fact after another, with very little heed paid to her emotions. In fact, it sounded a lot like what Elijah expected a military after-action report might sound. Which made perfect sense, given Sadie’s personality.

Certainly, she wasn’t without her emotions, but she habitually kept those to herself. Elijah did too, but compared to Sadie, he was an open book.

But he knew how much of a toll that Primal Realm had taken. She’d lost people, and a lot of them. Someone that cared as deeply as she did wouldn’t take that well, and Elijah knew that it was his job to help her cope with everything that had happened.

He just didn’t know exactly how.

“I think we all just need a boatload of therapy,” he muttered, lying back on the bed of moss. She draped her arm over his chest, pulling herself closer. “Do you think there are Healers that specialize in mental health? Like someone who can just cast a spell and make all your trauma go away?”

“Maybe,” Sadie acknowledged. “I don’t think so, though. That would feel like cheating.”

“And healing a fatal wound in seconds isn’t?”

“Not on the same level. I think we’re supposed to deal with our own baggage. Otherwise, we’d never learn how not to make the same mistakes over and over again.”

Elijah wasn’t certain about that. As far as he was concerned, the two scenarios were similar enough that he felt sure that there was someone out there who specialized in psychological healing.

Or maybe they just had to do it the old-fashioned way by talking out their feelings and working through their issues.

Either way, it wouldn’t be a quick process, so he spent the next while focusing on what he could do in the moment – offering what comfort he could while being there for Sadie. Soon enough, though, the real world reasserted itself with a reminder that he couldn’t spend all day just lazing about. Instead, he had a host of tasks waiting to be completed. So, it was with some small degree of regret that he extricated himself from Sadie’s arms.

“You can’t take a day off?” she asked, propping herself on one arm.

“Of all people, I would have expected you to understand the need to keep a proper schedule,” he said, pulling on his pants. He had no intention of donning his armor, though after spending months wearing it, the idea of going without felt a little odd.

“I’m not that uptight.”

“I never said you were.”

“You implied it,” she replied with a slight pout. Then, she waved her hand. “Go ahead. Be responsible. Do what you need to do. I need some alone time with the hot tub anyway.”

He leaned in, kissing her on the forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Unless you get dragged into a Primal Realm,” she quipped.

“That was one time.”

“Twice.”

“I was only dragged once. The second time, I went of my own accord,” he reminded her.

“Well, if you plan to dive into another one, at least let me know where you’re going first.”

“Fair enough.”

With that, Elijah finished dressing, then retreated to the bathroom to brush his teeth. His mouth twisted at the taste of his toothpaste, and he was once again reminded that he needed to find some more. Or make some. Whatever the case, he soon finished the task of ensuring his dental hygiene, then left the treehouse behind.

His first stop was to gather a certain crate from storage and head to Ironshore via Shape of the Sky. Fortunately, the box wasn’t so heavy – or awkward – that he struggled to grip it in his talons, though the landing on a clear portion of the dock definitely startled a couple of the early morning workers.

Once he’d left the docks, he wove his way through the morning crowds, enormous crate on his shoulder. It must’ve weighed at least a ton, though he carried it easily enough. Eventually, he found himself striding into the Forge of Creation. Thankfully, the entrance and the halls were more than wide enough to accommodate the crate, so it wasn’t long before he arrived at his destination.

As expected, Carmen was in her smithy, banging away on some unrecognizable hunk of metal. She didn’t look up until Elijah set the crate down, and even then, she ignored him – for a few moments, at least. He watched her smashing her hammer into the nearly-molten metal, fascinated by the flow of ethera that came with each strike, and he found himself wondering if he looked similar when he was working on one of his staves.

He didn’t think so.

In those instances, the grove did most of the heavy lifting. He was just an instrument of its will, such as it was. A true crafter like Carmen was wholly different, and in a far more controlled way.

It was only a few minutes before she’d finished whatever she was doing, and at some signal Elijah couldn’t perceive, she abruptly grabbed the piece of metal with a pair of tongs and shoved it back inside the forge. Only then did she turned to Elijah and ask, “What do you want?”

“I couldn’t just be here to see you?”

“Did you find Miggy yet?”

“Not yet. I told you –”

“You have things that need doing. I know, Elijah,” she stated. Of course, he knew that Carmen understood the situation. Miguel’s circumstances weren’t urgent. Elijah knew his nephew was okay. However, he also knew that Carmen’s concern was natural. She was worried about her son, so letting a little of that into her tone was inevitable. “So, what do you want?”

“A favor. Mostly for me, but also for a friend.”

“Just spit it out. In case you haven’t seen, I’m busy. And you should be too.”

“Fine. So, you know there’s a new Leatherworker in town, right?” Elijah asked. Carmen nodded. “I have a good feeling about Griff. I want to commission something from him,” he added, nodding at the crate. “That’s what’s in there. Raw materials. And I was hoping you could let him do the work in here. He has his own shop, but he says that getting a spot inside the Forge of Creation is difficult. So, here I am, trying to exploit our relationship for my own gain.”

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He ended with a cheeky grin.

Carmen sighed, obviously annoyed. “There are rules around this, Elijah.”

“I figured. That’s why I came to the top dog.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re a human woman. My favorite sister-in-law, in fact. And I know you can get this done.”

“Do you know how frustrating it is to deal with these people?” she muttered. “No, of course you don’t. You just walk in, throw a few corpses on someone’s doorstep, and expect everyone to just fall in line. I have to deal with bureaucracy and a bunch of crafters with outsized egos.”

“I could murder a few if you want me to,” Elijah offered, still grinning.

“Stop, or I might just let you follow through with that,” she said, massaging the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But only because I can point out that you gave us that crystal. Just have him come to me, and I’ll set it all up.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know. Now leave me alone. I’m trying to work on something important.”

Elijah knew when to leave – which coincided with him getting his way – so he left the crate behind and headed to let Griff know the good news. The dwarven Leatherworker wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as Elijah had hoped he would be, but that was probably because it was early enough that the sun had just begun to rise. And he had obviously only gotten up because Elijah was pounding on his door.

In any case, he took the job with some degree of enthusiasm, mostly from being allowed to work in the Forge of Creation, but also because of how Elijah described the raw materials.

Soon enough, Elijah moved on to the next order of business, which was to head to Argos and get some things identified. So, after spending a half hour waiting next to the spires – while a very nervous space mage stood nearby – Elijah headed over to the Greek city.

Predictably, when he reached Atticus’ shop, he found that his friend wasn’t available. According to his assistant, who met Elijah only a few moments after he’d arrived, the Merchant had had quite a late night.

“Should’ve guessed. He really needs to slow down,” Elijah remarked.

The assistant – a young man who looked like he was probably related to Atticus in some way – nodded, though he didn’t offer much elaboration. So, Elijah spent the next hour just wandering the giant store and appreciating the wares on offer. He was leaning close to inspect a particularly garish dagger when he felt Atticus approach.

Glancing back, he saw that the Merchant had once again put on a few pounds – mostly around the belly – and he looked a bit tired. He’d also chosen to nurture a great, bushy beard and a drooping mustache.

But Atticus still threw his arms around Elijah and embraced him in a great bear hug, saying, “You keep the wrong hours, my friend! Who does business at this time of the morning?”

“It’s almost noon, Atticus,” Elijah said when his friend let him loose.

“As I said – an ungodly hour. Come, come. I’ve had refreshments brought to my office.”

Elijah followed the Merchant through the store, over which he presided like a king. Where he walked within that territory, people noticed.

After only a short walk, Elijah found himself inside the man’s office, which was decorated with a host of powerfully magical art that suffused the air with a level of vigor that Elijah could appreciate.

He sat across Atticus’ large desk, then ate a date from the bowl he was offered. It was candied, stuffed with pepper and nuts, and salted, which gave the entire thing a sweet and savory taste that he found completely unique. And quite addictive. He ate a couple more before they got down to business.

The appraisal took place in a small room attached to Atticus’ office, which he said he’d had built just for VIPs.

“Is that what I am?” Elijah asked with a grin.

Atticus gave him a serious look. “If you aren’t, then no one is. Do you know what has happened in your absence, my friend?” he asked. Elijah shook his head, and Atticus went on, “The Four Corners Accord is the world’s real response to the threat posed by the Primal Realms.”

“It’s not just a bunch of posturing?”

“No. They have real power. Perhaps not as much as you, but there are true elites at the head.”

“Chelsea told me about one. Desmond.”

“Desmond Kloss. Leader of the League of Ancients, the fifth ranked guild subject to the Four Corners Accord. Individually, of middling elite power, but a great Administrator who knows how to manage people,” Atticus explained. “A reasonable man, by all accounts. The ones you should look out for are the former top tens.”

Then, he went on to explain that two of the four most powerful guilds were led by people who’d once been in the top ten on the power rankings. Elijah even recognized their names – Davu Debowale and Ram Khandu – though Atticus claimed not to know much about their classes.

“I do know they are strong, though. Combatants, by all accounts. The other two of the top four guilds are led by off-worlders. An elf named Shanala and a goblin who goes by Gix. Both are pragmatic and amenable to working with natives. Beyond that, information on their levels and power is fairly thin on the ground. Both are at least level one-seventy, though. The humans are in that same general area, though a bit lower.”

Elijah tapped his lip. “Interesting. I have a meeting scheduled in New York soon. I guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on them. Maybe I should take Sadie with me. For protection, I mean.”

“You mean as a distraction,” Atticus reasoned.

“What? No.”

Atticus narrowed his eyes. “When that woman walks into a room, everyone notices her. That’s the sort of person she is. You prefer a different approach. One with more freedom.”

Elijah shook his head, though he didn’t dispute the claim. Instead, he mentally reached into his spatial storage and retrieved the geode from the Arcane Loop. It was larger than he remembered, and it barely fit on the appraising table.

Atticus chuckled. “Using expensive loot as a distraction so you don’t have to address the issue. I like it, my friend,” he said. “Hmm. This is interesting…”

He waved his hand, and a surge of ethera displayed a notification that floated in mid-air.

“That is interesting,” Elijah agreed. He’d known it was a powerful natural treasure, but he’d not expected it to be that powerful. “I think I could put this in a cave on my island. You know, for a different kind of cultivation cave. I already have the Ash Lotus and the Frozen Oak. I’d just need a water-themed treasure to complete the elemental set.”

Something told him that Nerthus would appreciate the balance that implied.

“You wouldn’t want to sell it, would you?”

“No dice,” Elijah answered with a grin. “You know me – I’m a collector of natural treasures. Anyway, I have this other thing that’s the real reason I came here.”

“You didn’t just come to visit?” asked Atticus, clutching his heart. “I’m wounded, my friend.”

Elijah laughed as he stored the Terracore Shard in the Arcane Loop. Then, he summoned the Legacy of Titans. The spearhead-shaped crystal felt different than it had back in the Elemental Maelstrom. Cleaner. Like pure ethera rather than the powerful elemental forces that had suffused it back in the Primal Realm.

Just as he’d done with the Terracore Shard, Atticus used an ability, which channeled ethera through the appraisal apparatus and created a notification:

Elijah frowned. He’d hoped for something else. He wasn’t certain what, exactly, he had expected, but it wasn’t something that would only be useful for other people. After all, there was no one on Earth who could pass a heritage down to him. And even if there was, he suspected it would be an inferior path to the one he could forge himself.

However, it was after only a few moments that he realized how useful something like the Heritage Crystal could be for his grove. Nerthus insisted that he needed to recruit members, and the crystal would certainly assist in that endeavor.

The only problem was that Oscar had just as much claim to it as Elijah.

“I might have to sell it,” he said. “Not because I can’t use it, but because it’s difficult to split something like this with two people. I’ll talk to Oscar about it, though.”

“If you choose to sell it, I will act as an intermediary. Only a small surcharge. Much less than what I would charge a stranger, of course,” Atticus said without skipping a beat. “Which brings me to the next order of business. You are a very rich man, my friend.”

After that, Atticus revealed the profits from selling Elijah’s soap. And it far exceeded anything he ever could have imagined. Maybe he wasn’t rich on the multi-versal scale, but compared to the rest of Earth’s population, he might as well have been a generational tycoon.

Which begged the question – what did he want to do with all that wealth? His initial thought was charity. There were a lot of people out there who’d been irreparably harmed by the changed world. Orphans who’d lost parents were the most grossly affected, but there were less fortunate people across the globe. Elijah didn’t hesitate to mentally commit to helping them.

The issue was that he had no interest in organizing that. So, he resolved to find someone who could do so for him. He knew they needed a good heart and the right disposition to do the job properly, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt that giving back to the world was the right thing to do.

The second thought was that he wanted to improve the grove. For that, he would lean on Nerthus’ wisdom, providing whatever financial support the spryggent needed to fulfill the vision he had for the grove.

And finally, he intended to support his friends. After all, what was the use in having all that money and power if his allies couldn’t keep up?

But before he got to that, Elijah said, “I need to get a gift for Sadie. Any ideas?”

Atticus grinned. “My friend, I have more ideas than you can fathom. Let’s get down to the enviable task of finding the perfect gift for your lady friend.”