Path of Dragons 14 - Chapter 26 - The More Things Change

Elijah awoke to a knock on his door.

For a moment, he interpreted it as an assault.  He sprang to his feet, already building Eternal Plague.  It only lasted a second until he remembered he wasn’t in any danger.  Back on Gorveth – or more recently, in any of the realities he’d visited while traveling through the void – he’d routinely been the subject of surprise attacks. 

And the habits he’d built during those years were difficult to discard.

Even in the grove, where he was safest.

More importantly, he could sense the identity of his visitor, which made him feel even guiltier about his own jumpiness. 

“One second,” he called, pushing himself out of bed.  He wasn’t certain how long he’d slept.  A couple of days, probably.  Not quite enough to fully recover from his bout of hyper-focused crafting, but he still felt a lot better than he had directly after finishing Thorn’s construction. 

He quickly donned some clothes and went to answer the door.  When he did, he found Hope waiting for him.  In her hands was a large box.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked.

Like everyone else he knew before his departure, she had aged.  She still didn’t look old.  Not even middle-aged.  But she clearly wasn’t a teenager anymore.  Moreover, she seemed entirely healthy, and it felt like she’d progressed into ascension.  Not far, but she’d never been afflicted with the sort of focus necessary to push her to the cutting edge of progression.

For Tradesmen like her, rapid leveling was the result of wholehearted obsession.  A few – like Carmen and Biggle – managed it, but that attitude was incredibly rare.  Most crafters opted for a far more sedate pace.

“No, no,” Elijah said, stepping aside.  “Come on in.  You want anything?  Coffee, maybe?”

“No, thank you.  I just came by to see how you’re doing. And to give you something,” she revealed.

“Oh, I like gifts.”

“I notice you skipped over that first part,” she remarked, stepping into the treehouse.  She didn’t quite wrinkle her nose at the sight of his home, but she didn’t really have to.  Elijah knew what she saw.  For all that he lived there, it wasn’t a very lived-in space.  Which fit, because Elijah had only slept there a handful of times since his return.

“I’m fine,” he insisted.  “Just resting up after a crafting session.  I’m sure you understand that.”

He gestured for her to sit on one of the nearby couches.  Like his bed, it had been grown, rather than built, and its cushions were made of springy moss.  Still, it provided a comfortable seat, which Hope took.

“That’s kind of why I’m here,” she said.  “Or rather, it’s related.  When you got back, I couldn’t help but notice the state of your wardrobe.”

Elijah grinned.  “Yeah.  Kind of patchy.”

“They were rags,” she accused.

“Can’t argue with that.  But in my defense, some of the places I’ve been are really unkind to clothes.”

“That’s fair,” she acknowledged.  “Anyway, here.”

She handed him the box and prompted him to open it.  When he did, he was greeted by the sight of folded clothes.  And a lot of them, too.  The box was clearly a spatial item, because it held far more than it should have. 

“What’s this?”

“Your new wardrobe,” she said.  “Don’t worry.  I remember your style.  Nothing too fancy.”

“I still have the suit you made for me,” Elijah remarked, grabbing it out of his Arcane Loop.  He handed the bundle over.

“Oh, this old thing?  I’m a little embarrassed that you kept it,” she responded, looking at it.  “The stitching is terrible.  The cloth poorly woven.  You should destroy it.”

“I would never do that,” Elijah countered.  Not because he particularly liked the style.  It was fine, but there weren’t a lot of occasions for him to wear a formal suit.  Instead, he intended to keep it for sentimental reasons.  After all, there were a lot of memories tied to the outfit.  Some, like Lamar’s wedding, were good.  Others, like the massacre of Bloodrock Bay, were decidedly worse. 

“I made other suits for you,” she said, handing it back.  “You don’t need to wear that one anymore.”  She ran her hand through her hair.  “In any case, I hope you enjoy the new wardrobe.”

For a moment, she just sat there, her hands fidgeting.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.  “Are you okay?”

She sighed.  “It’s nothing.  Just…family drama.  Nothing you should be concerned with.”

“Now I’m really interested.  Come on.  We’re family, right?  I know I’ve been absent, but you did marry my nephew.”

She shook her head.  “It’s just that my father doesn’t understand how things work,” Hope explained.  “He thinks Miggy should just sit at home and help with little Eli.  But –”

“Wait.  Your son is named Eli?  As in Elijah?  How is this the first time I’m hearing of this?”

“You’ve been a little…”

She tailed off.

“A little what?”

“Self-absorbed,” she blurted.  “Not that we don’t all understand it.  You’ve been through so much, and –”

“Ouch.”

“It’s not –”

Elijah raised his hands in surrender. “No.  I get it.  And I don’t disagree.  I mean, I had my reasons for…well…everything.  But you’re right.”

Then and there, he decided to make some time to get reacquainted with his friends and family.  He’d made some nominal efforts before, but most of those meetings had revolved around him.  He’d barely even asked about anyone else’s lives.

“So, let me guess.  Ron wants Miggy to stay home and play the happy husband.  Miggy wants to keep doing what he’s doing,” Elijah surmised.

“He needs to keep doing what he’s doing,” Hope insisted.  “This world doesn’t respect anything but power.  Miggy knows that.  He knows that he can’t sit still.  He needs to keep leveling.  He needs to keep cultivating.  Otherwise, someone might come here and…and…”

“I’m here too.”

“But for how long?” she asked.  “We all love you, Elijah.  We do.  But we also know that you’re not going to stick around indefinitely.  That’s not who you are.  That’s not how you want to live.”

Once again, she had him dead to rights.  He’d been antsy ever since returning from Gorveth, and he knew that feeling would only grow stronger.  He’d never have stayed in Druhmor for as long as he had if he’d not been so focused on terraforming the planet.  And the second he knew Treebie could get by perfectly well without him, he’d left.

“Miggy is the first line of defense for this grove.  If he stops leveling…”

Elijah frowned.  “He’s putting too much pressure on himself.”

“Who else will take up the burden?” she asked.  “Rosabella is strong, but she’s no demi-god.  The Hartwood Sentries are good against most threats, but if demi-gods attack, we have no one.”

“What about Oscar?  Kurik?”

“Kurik only lives here half the time, and Oscar likes to roam.  He always comes back, but if Nara wasn’t here, he probably wouldn’t,” she admitted.  “Colt died a decade ago, and we can’t depend on the Iron Legion to protect us.  They would, but…”

Elijah understood her reticence to depend on outside help.  For all that the grove’s fate was tied to Ironshore’s, they still weren’t one in the same.  There was always the possibility that Ironshore might throw in its lot with the Hartwood Grove’s enemies.  Not so long as Ramik was around, but his mayorship would not be eternal.

“Ron is a smart man.  I’m certain he understands.”

“My father is one of the most intelligent people I know.  But he is also stubborn.  Sometimes, that trait leads to wondrous miracles.  Without it, I would not still be here.  I would have died soon after the world changed,” Hope explained.  “But it’s also a double-edged sword.  Once he gets something in his mind, he refuses to let it loose.

“Even when it’s killing his relationship with the only family he has left.”

“He just wants what’s best for you and your family,” Elijah reasoned.

“Which makes it even more difficult to oppose him.  He cares.  He loves us.  We just disagree on how to keep everyone safe.”

Elijah ran his hand through his wild hair.  “I’m guessing you want me to talk to him.”

“I hoped you would.”

“Is that why you came here?  To bribe me with new clothes?  Like I’m a teenage girl being rewarded for a good report card?” Elijah asked with a grin.

Hope returned his smile with one of her own. “The thought had crossed my mind,” she admitted.  “Not the teenage girl thing.  But…well, you get the idea.”

“Brownies.”

“What?”

“It would have been better if you brought brownies.  Those are much more effective bribery material.”

“I’m not a Baker,” she pointed out.  “And besides, you did need new clothes.  Especially if you’re leaving.  Whether you want to admit it or not, you represent the Hartwood Grove.  You can’t run around looking like a hobo.”

“But that’s my signature style!”

“Not anymore,” she insisted.  “You also need a haircut.”

“Also part my style,” Elijah grumbled.

“You just don’t like going to the Barber.”

Elijah shrugged.  In truth, he’d been avoiding it because it served as another reminder that the world had changed.  The last of the gnomish barbers he’d met so long ago had passed away while he was gone, and while they’d been replaced, he knew it wouldn’t be the same. 

Such was the curse of the long lived.  Even if he didn’t show the signs of age, everyone else was still subject to time’s inexorable march.  And those gnomes hadn’t been young to begin with.

The same was true of men like Colt and Essex, both of whom had died while Elijah was on Gorveth.  Though from what he understood, Colt had gone out like a champion, in bed with no less than three illythiri women.  At least he’d died happy, though according to what Elijah had heard, the stress of managing three wives could very well have been what had killed him.

“I’ll talk to your father,” Elijah agreed.  “And I’ll get a haircut before I leave.”

“That’s all I ask,” she replied, as if her requests were simple. 

After that, the two spoke of more mundane things, like her life, her work as a Tailor, and, most of all, motherhood.  Like most mothers, Hope was absolutely devoted to her child.  Little Eli was still quite young, but already, he’d shown quite a lot of promise.  Elijah took quite a lot of joy from her stories, but in the end, she couldn’t stay all day. 

When she left, he took a shower, dressed, and headed to Ironshore.  This time, he didn’t do so in the Shape of the World Serpent.  Instead, he just bounded across the strait, using Cloud Step to avoid having to swim.  He arrived at the docks well before he ran out of charges.

His arrival didn’t garner as much interest as he might have anticipated.  Apparently, the city’s residents had grown accustomed to people visiting from the island.  And the place was busy enough that nobody really paid attention to a wild-haired man in simple clothes.

The same was the case as he traversed the city, though the guards he passed did give him a side-eye.  Not surprising, considering that he looked a bit crazy and like he didn’t have two ethereum to rub together.

Elijah ignored them as he made his way to the barber shop.  It was located in the same place it had always occupied, though someone had gone to the trouble of redecorating the exterior.  Once, it had sported a simple façade, but now, it was elaborately carved to fit in with the upscale surroundings. 

When he stepped inside, he found even more changes. 

Clearly, it was no longer a barbershop, but instead, an expensive salon occupied by a half-dozen hairdressers.  Most of the clientele were women – though their races varied in a representation of Ironshore’s demographics – though there were a few men around as well. 

A young goblin girl greeted him. 

“How may I help you?”

“Uh…a haircut, I guess.”

“Any particular stylist?” she asked.

Elijah shrugged.  “Just whoever’s available.”

Though as he spoke, he considered fleeing.  The smell of shampoo and other hairstyling products was overwhelming, and the atmosphere was a long way from the barbershop he’d been expecting.  But he was committed now, especially when the goblin girl led him into the back where he met his stylist.

She was a heavyset woman who reminded him of a thousand other hairdressers he’d met throughout his pre-World Tree life.  And even though she was chatty, she was also professional and very efficient. 

She even convinced him to let her tend to his jagged nails and feet, which he had to admit felt a lot better than he could have expected.

He left the salon after less than an hour, his hair freshly shorn, his beard trimmed, and feeling like a million ethereum.  That was one of the effects of the woman’s class, no doubt.  Not quite regenerative healing, but more about promoting calm and happy thoughts. 

It was so pleasant that Elijah almost let himself forget what was coming next.  But almost wasn’t quite enough to completely banish the stressful anticipation of his upcoming conversation with Ron.