BOOK 9: CHAPTER 35: LOOT AND CONSEQUENCE

Black smoke still lingered in the air, though it had dispersed enough that it didn’t even affect Elijah. He hadn’t noticed it before, but it had a slightly sweet, acrid scent. “Do you know what it is?” he asked, glancing at Biggle, who’d just imbibed a potion.

“No way to know for certain,” the Alchemist said. “Everyone does things a little different. I can tell it’s strong, though. If I’d seen it in its liquid form – or maybe just after it was used – I’d be able to tell you most of its characteristics. The fact that it’s lasted this long and at this density says it was extremely potent.”

Elijah didn’t need Biggle to tell him that much. The fact that he couldn’t even turn his head without seeing rotting elf corpses was evidence enough.

Looking at them brought up a host of conflicting feelings. Elijah knew he wasn’t strictly responsible for their deaths. He hadn’t killed them. However, they would have still been alive if he hadn’t come for Breeze. That brought with it a note of guilt that he just could not deny. He didn’t even try. Instead, he leaned into it, acknowledging the role he’d played. It was regrettable, but after the violation of his grove, he felt justified in his actions.

He refused to dwell on it, though. Not anymore. Moving forward was key.

“Let’s go,” he said, motioning for Biggle to follow him.

Because of the lingering black smoke, the settlement remained untouched. There were a few locals from the closest town who were waiting to plunder the place, but they weren’t willing to brave the toxic atmosphere. That was probably a valid concern, given that Biggle – even with some protection against alchemical concoctions – needed another potion to counter the effects.

With his high constitution attribute and advanced body cultivation, Elijah needed no such protection.

He led Biggle through the town, ignoring the buildings along the way. Certainly, they contained items of value, but Elijah had already decided to leave those for the locals. Instead, he and the Alchemist aimed for the real prize – Breeze’s palace. Elijah wasn’t interested in conventional wealth. If he found a stash of ethereum, he definitely wouldn’t ignore it, but that wasn’t his goal. Rather, he wanted natural treasures and alchemical equipment.

So, when they reached the palace, they ignored the guards’ armor and weapons and entered without hesitation. The smoke was slightly denser indoors, though it still wasn’t enough to affect Elijah. He did make sure to keep an eye on Biggle. If necessary, he would use Blessing of the Grove and rely on its ability to banish afflictions to keep the gnome on his feet.

“He sure liked to live rich, didn’t he?” Biggle remarked, looking around at the décor. It was a valid assessment, given the prevalence of luxurious art on display. It reminded Elijah of old wealth. Likely, Breeze had simply taken the paintings, sculptures, and palace itself for granted.

Or maybe Elijah was just projecting his clear disdain for the elf onto the setting.

Regardless, he and Biggle progressed through the palace quickly enough before finally reaching the laboratory. That’s where they found Breeze’s severed hand. Biggle wasted no time in kneeling next to it, taking a ring, the vial, and a folio attached to a bracelet that had fallen next to it.

“Shame,” the gnome said before coughing. The smoke was thickest in that room, largely because that was where it had been dispersed. Elijah decided it was time to cast Blessing of the Grove. As the healing rains fell and a white-petaled sunflower bloomed, Biggle continued, “I was hoping he wouldn’t have a folio.”

“Is it a problem?”

After handing the items to Elijah, Biggle shook his head. “It means we won’t be able to take what I suspect is considerable wealth,” he revealed. Then, he went on to explain that folios were entirely inviolable. If the bearer died, then the Branch would automatically distribute that person’s wealth to any heirs. If no heirs had been named, then it would be reabsorbed by the World Tree. “It’s also entirely traceable. So, if you’re ever on a more civilized world, you’d better keep that in mind. Don’t pay for anything with a folio unless you don’t care about the authorities knowing about it.”

“You sound like you have experience with that.”

Biggle pushed himself to his feet. “Maybe I’ve bought a few questionable natural treasures here and there. And I might have been the second largest supplier of…ah…inebriants of very specific sort back home. It’s simple alchemy, so it didn’t give me much in the way of experience, but it paid the bills. I left all that behind when I came here, though,” he added hastily.

“You were a drug dealer?”

Biggle shrugged. “I did what I had to do. My world wasn’t like Earth. The powerful hoarded all the real wealth, and we didn’t even get scraps,” he explained. “There were only two ways to get a leg up. You join a consortium and give them most of your earnings in exchange for progression, or you go down the not-quite-legal path. The authorities didn’t care so much. They were fine with a drugged populace. Easier to control. And me? I was preparing for something like this. Building my foundation. Gathering what money I could. So, when the guards came knocking, I was ready to start a new life on a world where I wasn’t constrained by the circumstances of my birth.”

“I wasn’t judging.”

“Yes, you were. It’s fine, though. I’m used to it.”

“What do you think his story was?” Elijah asked, nudging the severed hand with his foot. He still didn’t feel an ounce of guilt about the elf’s death. In fact, he felt a sense of satisfaction when he remembered the Alchemist’s final state. The memory of his bloated corpse resting upon the Citadel’s steps was a gruesome one, but it also came with a sense of justice. Or vengeance, maybe.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Biggle shrugged. “Probably the third son of some minor noble or some such,” he guessed. “I’m sure they called them something different on his world. I don’t know that much about elves, but he was a high elf if I’ve ever seen one. They’re not known for their humility. There’s poison in that ring, by the way. Nasty stuff. Not as bad as the one that caused all this smoke, but if you want me to dispose of it…”

Elijah nodded along, though he didn’t say anything as he handed the ring back. In the meantime, Biggle moved on to the glassware. Luckily, only a couple of pieces had been broken, which gave the gnome his pick of items.

“These are better than mine,” he said. “Not much, but they’ll bridge the gap to when our Glassworkers reach a higher level.”

After that, they scoured the palace until they found the basement.

“Jackpot,” Elijah said, gazing at row after row of potted plants. Most of them swirled with ethera that stood out even amidst the slightly elevated ethereal density in the air. It was clear that the elf had installed something similar to what Lucy used in the Silo, though it wasn’t quite as potent.

Regardless, there were hundreds of low-grade natural treasures there, and Elijah joined Biggle in looting everything that wasn’t nailed down. To prepare, Elijah had emptied his Arcane Loop, so that, combined with all the spatial packs, gave him plenty of room to store everything. By the time they’d finished, they’d used every ounce of available space, and Biggle had resorted to carrying a few plants by hand.

He clearly regretted that about halfway back to the other settlement, and he spent the latter part of the journey complaining. Pointedly, he didn’t discard his burden, though. What was in those bags was too valuable – not for the plants themselves. He could likely grow better in his garden in Ironshore, much less the one on the island. However, each one was a species not found on Earth, which meant that they would provide him the opportunity to grow a wide variety of powerful ingredients on the island.

Of course, Elijah would take his cut.

Or rather, Nerthus would. He was always on the lookout for new plants, and Elijah felt they would make a good get-well present for his friend.

In any case, they reached the other town a few hours later, only to find that the residents were on the verge of leaving for Kel’ilathen. Elijah spoke briefly to them, but they were too terrified to make the experience comfortable.

“I suppose I’m going to have to get used to that,” he muttered while heading toward the spires.

“It will get worse.”

“What?” Elijah asked, glancing at Biggle, who was still struggling under the weight of half a dozen bags.

“The gap. It happens on every world,” the gnome answered. “People like you…eventually, you’ll be like a mythological figure to these people. A walking legend. They won’t know how to act around you, and most will default to fear.”

“I hope not,” Elijah said.

“It’s inevitable. If you want my advice, it’s this – cultivate your own friendships. Build your own circle of people who won’t treat you like a god,” he said. “I think that’s the only way you’ll maintain your sanity.”

“It sounds like you’ve thought a lot about this.”

Biggle shrugged – as best he could, at least – then said, “I’ve always aspired to make the most out of my talents. I just assumed I’d reach the top at some point, and I’ve been mentally preparing for that eventuality. I had something similar back home. I wasn’t strong. Not according to the system, at least. But I had money. I had power of a sort. And I think some of the lessons I learned are transferrable.”

That made some sense to Elijah, and he considered it as they closed on the Spires. It wasn’t long before the four silvery prongs came into view.

“Alright, this is where we go our separate ways,” Elijah said. “If you could coordinate with Nerthus to divvy everything up, that would help.”

“You’re not coming back?” Biggle asked.

Elijah shook his head. “I have other things I need to take care of.”

After that, Biggle took the first slot and was soon whisked away back to Ironshore. Then, almost an hour later, Elijah was teleported to Argos so he could take care of his next order of business – he needed to meet with Atticus.

Walking through the city was a strange experience, especially when juxtaposed with how the citizens of Ironshore treated him. The latter looked upon him with fear and suspicion, but in Argos, Elijah found himself the subject of reassuring nods, overenthusiastic greetings, and more than one pat on the back. It buoyed his spirit so much that he decided to visit the Temple of Virtue and add his own healing to the mix.

There weren’t very many people there. Just a few Healers and a handful of patients. However, they were all incredibly grateful for Elijah’s efforts – especially when he healed one of the patients whose illness exceeded the abilities of the other resident Healers.

At one point, Elijah had vowed to visit the city on a regular basis and offer his abilities to the people of Argos. However, world events had gotten in the way of that, and he hadn’t made good on that vow in quite some time. No one had ever called him out on it, but in that moment, as he dedicated his time to doing something unequivocally good, he remembered why he’d set himself on that course.

There was something invariably satisfying about the act of healing. Sure, the city’s increased vitality and the other Healers meant that he wasn’t strictly necessary. But it was a balm to his spirit, and one he sorely needed.

So, when he finally headed back to meet with Atticus, he felt better than he had in weeks.

As it turned out, Atticus had been expecting him, and the Merchant met him outside the store and quickly ushered him into a small office building nearby.

“This is where I hold all my confidential meetings,” Atticus said when Elijah asked what was going on. Soon enough, they were in an office that practically buzzed with ethera. “Privacy wards.”

“I see. Are they necessary?”

Atticus shrugged. “Perhaps not, my friend. But for this, I wanted to take every precaution,” he said. “There are eyes and ears everywhere. Some, I know. Others are still hidden.”

“Whose eyes and ears?”

“Seattle,” Atticus stated. “They are moving. Mostly behind the scenes, but my sources tell me that they have begun to bolster their military. More tower runs, and not just their own. They are paying for their people to go all over the world. In addition, they have put out feelers meant to establish trade partnerships.”

“To what end?” Elijah asked, already knowing the answer.

“You.”

He sighed. “I expected this.”

“I would be surprised if you hadn’t. You made an impression, my friend,” Atticus stated. “But I want you to know that the Consortium supports you completely. We have not forgotten your assistance back in the Trial of Primacy. Without you, many of us would be dead or enslaved. In addition, we have thirty settlements who will support you against Seattle. Most lack a military presence, but together, we can isolate Seattle. The Sand Elves of Arvandor are prepared to cut the city off. It won’t completely ruin their access to water, but it will be quite a blow. K’hana says that she doesn’t forget who her friend are.

“And neither do I,” Atticus stated.

Elijah was blown away by the show of support. However, the last thing he wanted was to push Seattle into a corner. For better or worse, they led the way in the battle against the Primal Realms. Perhaps in the future, when the threat of excisement had been extinguished, things might be different. But for now, Earth needed peace and cooperation, not petty grudges.

“Thank you,” he said. “Truly. But this is not productive. So long as Seattle keeps their eyes on the true threat – the Primal Realms – nothing needs to change.”

“And if they let their gaze wander?”

“Then we’ll do what needs to be done,” Elijah stated.