BOOK 10: CHAPTER 27: RECHARGING

The stars twinkled overhead, and the moon shone bright, casting silvery light over the glade. A gentle wind whispered in Elijah’s ear, rustling the surrounding grass and mingling with the sound of chirping crickets. As he laid there, a family of Himalayan tahr had nestled close, probably for warmth in the cold, crisp mountain air. The goat-like beasts were shaggy, with backward curving horns, but Elijah was far more concerned with how cuddly they were.

He let out a sigh, knowing good and well that he should have been headed back to the island. Just after Elijah had left for New York, Miguel had returned from the Hollow Depths. The little time he’d spent on the island was in Hope’s company, and judging by his demeanor, he’d come to no harm in the cavernous, subterranean world below.

Even without the need to head down there to rescue his nephew, Elijah had many other irons in the proverbial fire. He had so much he needed to do, both concerning his personal development as well as the defense of the world. Yet, he also knew that he simply couldn’t keep going the way he was going.

Not without some degree of rest.

And as much as he loved the grove, the island had come to represent responsibility for him. There, he was always subject to someone’s expectations. Someone’s needs. It restricted his freedom and tied him to a thousand tasks he knew he should be handling.

By contrast, lying in that mountain glade, snuggling with a family of fuzzy animals – that was true freedom. What’s more, it connected him to something larger. Something wilder than he’d ever find in his grove. For all of Nerthus’ efforts to tame the island, something had been lost in that transition. Something important.

Elijah found it again in that meadow.

Or rather, he’d progressively rediscovered it as he’d left New York behind and ventured out into the wilderness. To date, the excursion had lasted two days, but he wished it could go on much, much longer. Indefinitely, perhaps.

And Elijah was self-aware enough to recognize that that sentiment was rooted in his aversion to responsibility. Or maybe it was just that he’d piled too much on his shoulders without getting any sense of relief. Whatever the case, he’d desperately needed a break, and one that the grove simply couldn’t give him.

Of course, he’d made certain to stop by New York’s Branch to send out a few messages letting everyone know that he’d be out of touch for a while. But even that felt restrictive in a way that made his brain itch.

“I guess I’ve just gotten used to being on my own,” he said to himself, which startled one of the tahr kids. It raised its head and fixed him with an accusatory glare. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t meant to interrupt your nap.”

With a huff, the little beast laid its head on his stomach. Meanwhile, Elijah just enjoyed the surrounding nature until his mind inevitably turned to the topic of cultivation. Over the past couple of days, during which he’d immersed himself in nature, he’d begun to solidify the image meant to represent the future of his cultivation. However, it wasn’t quite perfect yet, so for the rest of the night, he continued to work on the visualization.

That was only the first step, but as far as Elijah was concerned, it was the most important one. It was the foundation upon which his future would be built, and he refused to shortchange it. To that end, he needed it to be flawless. Only then could he begin the implementation.

As he worked, he continuously flared his Mantle of Authority. It didn’t heal the tahr or the surrounding vegetation. Not precisely, at least. Instead, it purified them of any corruption. And he was surprised to find that there were trace amounts everywhere he looked. Not enough to make much of a difference, but when those small bits were eradicated by his mantle, the family of tahr seemed a bit healthier.

That was the other advantage of trekking through the wilderness. It had given him the chance to truly nail down what the new expression of his Mantle of Authority really did. The best way he could describe it was that it brought everything it touched to a state closer to the ideal of nature. Pure and vital.

Idyllic.

It was difficult to quantify exactly what changed, but Elijah could sense the difference nonetheless. And he expected that would influence how he approached his the cultivation of his mind – once he understood it properly, at least.

For the rest of the night, Elijah just lay there, resting, relaxing, and focusing on what he felt. The family of tahr were the most prominent in his senses, but the rest of the world was almost as bright. Some of that came from Soul of the Wild, which had become even stronger after he’d evolved his Mantle of Authority. The two were inextricably linked, though through a mechanism he didn’t fully understand.

However, that wasn’t the extent of what he felt. He also used his mundane senses. The smell of gathering dew on the grass, the feel of the tahrs’ soft fur, the rumble of their breathing, the taste of a coming storm in the air – it all coalesced into something greater than the whole.

It was nature.

Freedom.

Home.

Most of all, it was precisely what Elijah needed after everything he’d been through. In that meadow, Primal Realms didn’t matter. Neither did all the trauma he carried in that dark facet of his mind. Nor politics or vague threats hovering just out of sight. It was cleansing in a way he didn’t even know he’d so desperately needed.

So, by the time morning came and the tahr rose, Elijah felt refreshed and ready to return to his responsibilities. Before that, he decided to launch himself into the sky and scan the area. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t escape the sense of duty that came with the knowledge of an ongoing war in the region. So many people had already been affected. Most of the refugees had ended up in New York, but there were quite a few that had retreated to another nearby city named Kalki. ṙ𝓪Ꞑó𝖇Ε𝙨

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Unlike New York, it wasn’t secluded on an island. Instead, it had high walls and plenty of defenses meant to frustrate the aggressive force. More importantly, Elijah had discovered that the aggressors were war elves – a battle-hardened race with which Elijah had nothing but bad experiences.

Because of that, it wasn’t a surprise that he wanted to investigate the situation more.

However, even after throwing himself into the air and flying around for a few hours, he’d found nothing of note. So, he returned to New York, armed with a task he’d been putting off since before he’d ventured into the Elemental Maelstrom.

That required him to head to the Conclave Spires and meet with the local space mage. Up until Elijah identified himself, she’d carried a laconic demeanor. After she found out who he was, she became so tense that she practically trembled in his presence. Regrettable, but by that point, Elijah had grown accustomed to it.

After he explained where he wanted to go, the woman retreated into the compound, presumably to ask someone higher up the food chain for advice on how to approach it. She was only gone for a few minutes before she returned, her face pale as she told Elijah that his transport to the Conclave Headquarters – which they called Gatehold – had been approved.

“Thanks,” he said with genuine appreciation. “I was hoping I wouldn’t need to jump through any hoops. But I’ll wait my turn like anyone else.”

Turned out, that wasn’t the plan, and she ushered him to the front of the line. That earned him a few angry glares from the locals, though the whispered conversations that soon followed put a stop to all of that. His reputation, it seemed, followed him wherever he went.

So it was with a sigh that he stepped into the circle at the center of the curved Conclave spires and awaited teleportation across the world. The Space Mage counted down, and when she reached zero, a surge of ethera preceded Elijah’s transportation across the globe. He appeared only a second later, the evidence of the distance plain in the changed climate – it went from brisk to extremely hot and humid – as well as the position of the sun in the sky.

Otherwise, Elijah found himself taken aback by his surroundings.

Utopia was the word that came to mind.

The spires themselves were much larger than any Elijah had seen before, and what’s more, he could feel the strong current of the underlying ley lines. It was like he stood at the confluence of a multitude of rivers, which sent the ethereal density skyrocketing. It wasn’t nearly what he felt back home – or even in Ironshore – but it was the thickest atmosphere of ethera he’d experienced anywhere else.

Even around the Primal Realms.

It was no wonder why the Conclave had chosen it as their hub.

The spires were fundamentally the same as they were anywhere else, though they were larger, and the enchantments covering them were even more extensive. In only a moment, Elijah realized that this set was the key to the entire network. He wasn’t sure how, but he felt certain in that assertion.

They looked more like high-grade sculptures than a functional apparatus.

“Impressive,” he breathed, glancing around at the rest of the surroundings. His first impression had been that it was utopian, and nothing he saw negated that notion. The spires stood in a large and open plaza, through which dozens of robed men and women strode. They all wore green-and-white, marking them as members of the Conclave, but the cuts of their garments varied so widely that Elijah suspected they were indicators of status.

Beyond the plaza were a series of high-rises, their corners rounded and their summits displaying the sort of aesthetic that would have been at home in a futuristic science fiction movie. Glass and steel were the most prevalent materials, but Elijah was pleased to see that the Conclave had paid close attention to nature as well. Trees lined the plaza, extending down the streets. There were flowering bushes as well, giving the whole scene a vital feeling that Elijah appreciated.

It was still far too curated for his tastes, though. He preferred the wild places of the world, where everything was left to compete for place of prominence. The result was chaos with an underlying order of natural selection that Elijah found more than just appealing. He considered it absolutely necessary.

Soon enough, a green-and-white clad space mage approached. He wore an elaborate, conical hat, and the sleeves of his voluminous robes hid his hands – an affectation the man clearly believed made him appear more sagely.

“Mr. Hart,” he said with a deep bow. Somehow, his hat stayed in place. Magic, Elijah reasoned. A frivolous use, but one he could appreciate. “We are so glad to welcome you to Gatehold.”

“Good to get the chance to visit,” Elijah replied with a smile he hoped was welcoming. The man didn’t flinch away, so he felt he was on the right track. “I’ve been meaning to swing by for a while now. This is an impressive setup you have here. This is the strongest confluence of ley lines I’ve ever felt.”

“Indeed, Mr. Hart,” the Conclave representative agreed. “That is why we exist. Many members of the Conclave originated in this region. We believe the concentration of Space Mages is due to the confluence. Without it, the network would be impossible.”

“I figured as much,” Elijah said. “Well, lead on, Mr….”

“Aybara,” the man said. “Director Aybara.”

“Director. Sounds fancy. You the one in charge of this whole thing?”

“Oh, goodness no. That is Chairman Hui Shui.”

Elijah narrowed his eyes. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“He is a former top-ranker,” Aybara said with no small sense of pride. “A great man. A great leader.”

“Then I definitely need to meet him,” Elijah said. “And not just because I have a request that I hope you all can help me meet. Also because I’d love to know how a non-combatant could gain levels so quickly as to put himself in the top ten.”

“He is no non-combatant. He routinely ventures into towers, closes rifts, and defends Gatehold.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy. Lead on, Director Aybara.”

Aybara seemed more than happy to oblige, and even went on to explain how the organization was arranged. In the Conclave itself, there were nine ranks: novitiate, adept, associate, coordinator, manager, director, counselor, vice chairman, and chairman. That meant that Aybara, as a director, was the definition of a middle manager. Important enough that sending him wouldn’t offer insult, but not so vital that he would miss out on any major duties.

Over the next twenty minutes, they traversed the city. It was much as Elijah had seen from the Spires, though there were far more people than he’d expected. The city was also newly constructed, and according to Aybara, it had been built upon the ruins of a Zimbabwean city called Harare.

The old city had been destroyed shortly after the world had transformed, and Gatehold had risen in its place – largely on the back of Hui Shui’s efforts. That just made Elijah want to meet him all the more.

Eventually, they arrived at a building constructed under the same general aesthetics as the rest of the city, though it featured green and white quite prominently. It also rose a good ten stories higher than any other building in the area, establishing its importance as the seat of power within Gatehold.

Elijah eagerly followed Aybara inside, ready to meet the former top-ranker and accomplish his goal for coming to Gatehold in the first place.