Path of Dragons

Book 4: Chapter 47: Seattle's Plight

“I’m Elijah, by the way,” he said to the woman who’d been assigned to escort them. She was pretty, maybe twenty years old if he had to guess. But Elijah acknowledged that his perception of age might be a little off. After all, with high attributes and a Body of Wood, the effects of aging really took a backseat. Even he looked a few years younger than he really was, though much of it was hidden by his lacking grooming habits and scraggly appearance. Perhaps he should have gotten a haircut before heading out on what amounted to a diplomatic mission. When the woman didn’t respond, he said, “Nice to meet you. Hot day today, isn’t it? Oh, yeah – I’m very much enjoying my time in Seattle, thank you for asking.”

“Abigail,” she muttered.

“What was that?”

“My name is Abigail. And I have a boyfriend,” she said.

“Uh…good for you?” he responded. Then, he realized what she must’ve thought, and he shook his head. Why did everyone always think the worst of his intentions? “This is K’hana. I don’t know if she has a boyfriend or not.”

“I do not have a life partner.”

“Samesies,” Elijah said. “It’s rough going out there, you know? Not like it used to be. But I’ll be completely honest – I’m glad the dating apps are a thing of the past. I didn’t have a lot of experience with Tinder and the like, but what I saw was not good. You’re lucky you didn’t have to go through that, K’hana. Back me up here, Abby. It was terrible, right?”

“Um…”

“But then again, I don’t think K’hana would’ve had much trouble, all things considered. The pointed ears might turn some people the other way, but I’m sure most would be more than willing to ignore that. Of course, there’s no accounting for cultural differences. I don’t know much about the mating habits of elves.”

“Fair enough.”

At the same time, K’hana unfurled her scarf, revealing the rest of her face as well as her tapered ears. That elicited a gasp from their escort, who actually stumbled as she climbed a set of steps leading to the front doors of the capitol building. She caught herself on a handrail, but her cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“I’ve never seen an elf before. There was a gnome that came through here a few months back, and I’ve heard of dwarves. But no elves.”

“Well, if all goes well, you’ll see some more in the coming months,” Elijah said. “But don’t tell anyone. I’m sure Isaiah will want to take credit.”

After that, they went silent as they were led through the building and to Isaiah’s office. The interior of the capitol didn’t look any different than it had the last time Elijah had visited, which was a little surprising, given the degree of damage outside. Perhaps the attackers had been rebuffed before reaching the building itself.

Regardless, they arrived at the office a few minutes later, where they were handed off to another set of guards – both of which were burly men who seemed a little stronger than the average riffraff – who let them inside. There, Isaiah was sitting behind his desk.

“About time,” he said. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to hold up your end of our bargain.”

Elijah frowned. “I never said when I would help. Just that I would,” he stated. “Any assumption otherwise was your fault.”

“It was implied. Our situation is dire. People died while you were galivanting around doing whatever it is you do. I –”

“Be careful what you say next. I’m here to help, and in more ways than you expect. But I’m not going to stand here and let you browbeat me because I refuse to operate on your schedule,” Elijah said, his tone suddenly icy. And given that he was the highest-level person among humanity’s remaining population, his ire was best avoided.

It wasn’t as if Elijah could rip the building down around Isaiah – especially when the man had some levels under his belt – but he could cause a lot of damage if so inclined. Valoria was evidence of that.

To his credit, Isaiah took a deep breath and said, “Fine. Tell me what you have in mind.”

* * *

Isaiah tightened his fist as he sat behind his desk. He was already dealing with a crisis that could tear everything down, and now he had to deal with a primadonna like Elijah Hart? The man acted as if the entire world revolved around him. Meanwhile, Isaiah had been fighting tooth and nail to try to preserve as much of Seattle as he could manage. Even while multiple groups had risen to oppose him, he’d kept order, negotiated peace deals, and prevented the weak from succumbing to the dangers of the new world. So, seeing someone like Elijah, who only seemed to care about himself, was galling – a situation that was exacerbated by the fact that Isaiah needed the man’s help. Otherwise, the militants of Lakeshore and the water-hoarders of Mercer Mesa would slowly overwhelm him and his allies.

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But he didn’t have enough power.

For what felt like the thousandth time, he wished he’d chosen a different option when he’d achieved Lordship. The quest to do so had been onerous, requiring him to consolidate his power and reach a specific spot on the power rankings. That hadn’t lasted much past attaining his title as a Lord, but it still represented a sizable accomplishment. More, the path he had chosen – that of the Watcher – had worked hand-in-glove with his class’s power set, allowing him to keep an eye on everything in his city.

Yet, as powerful as information often was, it usually proved useless in a direct confrontation. The reality of Isaiah’s path was that it was never meant for fighting. He’d hoped to field a force of powerful combatants to fill that void, but Bruce Garret had used his access to the tower to pull most of the truly promising fighters into the Lakeshore faction.

It wasn’t difficult to see why they went that way, either. The tower offered a chance to grow stronger via a mostly set path. There were whole books that had been written about the best ways to challenge it. So, there wasn’t much in the way of danger, so long as the challenging party didn’t make any egregious mistakes in their group composition or within the tower itself.

So, the strong kept getting stronger, and they’d begun to wonder why they allowed someone like Isaiah to maintain power. And then, the Mercers had stepped in, promising unfettered access to their water source. From there, the two factions had slowly begun to overwhelm Isaiah and his tentative allies, the Hunters of Ranier. The tensions had grown even more onerous until, at last, open battle had erupted. Hundreds had already died, and more deaths would follow unless Isaiah put an end to the conflict.

If he could guarantee that it would work, he would have already surrendered his position. He didn’t care about being in charge. However, he’d seen the way the Mercers treated their underlings. He’d watched as the so-called adventurers of Lakeshore took what they wanted, daring anyone to oppose them. No – if he surrendered, not only would he be giving up his own life, but also the lives of many others who depended on him to protect them.

Even so, Isaiah had sought a truce, which had been summarily rejected. Bruce had responded with a simple question, “Why would we negotiate with you when we’re winning?”

It was a good question, and one to which Isaiah had no answers. But now that Elijah Hart had returned to Seattle, there was a chance of turning things around. Isaiah might have once doubted the man’s power, but only that day, he’d watched via one of his drones as Elijah had ripped a group of adventurers to pieces. It was as horrifying as it was hope-inducing.

“So, I think I might have a fix for your water problem that doesn’t involve me flying up to Mercer Mesa and slaughtering a bunch of rich assholes,” Elijah said.

“Fly?”

“Yeah. I can fly. The point is that this woman is the answer to your problems,” Elijah said, gesturing to the woman who’d accompanied him into Seattle. Isaiah had watched her decapitate a seasoned adventurer with a whip that looked like it was made of semi-sold water, so he knew she was dangerous. More, he also knew that she was an elf.

Seattle had played host to a few non-humans over the years, and there was even a small community of dwarves – only about two-dozen of them – who ran a traveling caravan that passed through every month or so. But Isaiah had never seen an elf before, and he was unsurprised to see that the myths had gotten it mostly right. The woman – her name was K’hana Tamira – was a level fifty Water Witch, according to Isaiah’s All-Seeing Eye skill, and she was an absolute vision of perfection.

“I’m going to need more than that if you expect me to understand what you’re talking about,” Isaiah said to the infuriating man. “She’s strong, but she won’t make much of a difference in a pitched battle. Lakeshore has a hundred people that are close to her level. No offense, ma’am.”

“None taken, my lord.”

Elijah rolled his eyes at that, which only irritated Isaiah even further. Then, he said, “She’s not here to fight. She’s here to help you find water.”

Then, the elven woman explained that she came from a world even more arid than the Seattle desert, and as such, her people had long leaned on those with classes that could find water in even the dryest deserts. K’hana was one of those people, and she said that, via a series of skills, she could locate enough water to support even a city the size of Seattle.

“And you would do this out of the goodness of your heart?” he asked in disbelief.

“No,” she said. “I will not. I wish to ally my people with yours. You gain access to water, while we use your people to help us keep our tower from overflowing. In addition, we would like to create a trade alliance as well as an agreement for mutual defense. Our people do not have a history of battle. We come from a peaceful world. As such, we have only a few combatants.”

“Pending the details, I think that sounds reasonable,” Isaiah said, struggling to believe his good fortune. In one fell swoop, the elf’s arrival had given him hope that two of the city’s most pressing needs would be solved. However, that still left the issue of the ongoing war. “But it won’t mean anything if Mercer and Lakeshore have their way. They’ve already expanded their territories, and they threaten to take the whole city.”

“Perhaps we should be talking to one of them, then,” suggested the elf. “I thought you were the Lord of this city.”

Isaiah didn’t rise to that comment. Instead, he focused on Elijah, saying, “You agreed to help.”

“I did.”

“Are you backing out of that agreement? This helps. I won’t deny that. And I’m grateful. However, you agreed to help us take care of Mercer and Lakeshore,” Isaiah stated evenly. “I took you to be a man of honor.”

Elijah laughed at that. “Honor? Not much use for that. I help people that need it. I protect what I care about,” he said. “And I try to maintain the balance of nature. Honor doesn’t come into that equation. But I still intend to help. You seem better than the Mercers, at least. And given that I’ve already been attacked by those others, you’re our best bet.”

“Good,” he said. “Because one of those things – or people, I suppose – that you care about is about to be attacked by Lakeshore. My information tells me that they intend to take the Garden in three days.”