Path of Dragons-Chapter 8Book : . A Picture of Myriad Colors

Elijah sat in the middle of the temple, his legs crossed and his breathing even as he cast his perception as wide as possible. He couldn’t sense the entire settlement via Soul of the Wild, but he got enough feedback that he felt it gave him a good picture. And he was shocked at the mundanity of it all.

People, just going about their lives, doing the best they could to survive and thrive. Children played with one another, friends and lovers congregated, and families strove to protect and provide for one another. It was a scene he felt wouldn’t have been out of place in any other settlement.

And yet, through it all was a thick undercurrent of death.

It pervaded everything. From the zombies they used as manual labor to the way the local Healers attacked various injuries, the entire population seemed to have been affected by the localized death attunement.

Elijah found himself focusing on a pair of Tradesmen.

One was an alchemist, and she was busy brewing various concoctions meant to help preserve the zombies. It was through her efforts: and those of her fellow Alchemists throughout the settlement: that the stench of undead was kept to a minimum. Elijah also suspected that her potions would help to strengthen and preserve the mindless creatures her people used to so wantonly.

But she also made potions intended to help cure various diseases and stave off the wide variety of afflictions that plagued the people native to the area. Living in a city infested with undead came with many such risks, and her efforts were the clear response to that.

Next, Elijah focused on a much more macabre scene. In a room that had been outfitted like a butcher shop, a dozen corpses hung. Naked and entirely lifeless, they were the canvas upon which the proprietor painted his masterpieces. In the past day, Elijah had learned that the man was known as the Fleshmonger: probably his class’s name: and he was one of the reasons the settlement had managed to flourish.

Elijah watched as ethera swirled and the man worked on one corpse, molding its flesh and removing any identifying features. It was not a quick process, and the man had clearly been working on this particular body for quite some time. Supporting that notion was the fact that it was entirely androgynous, with unbroken skin and a heavy build meant for manual labor.

When the Fleshmonger completed his task, he would then sell the result to a true Necromancer: not the label given to anyone not of Heaven’s Bastion, but one with the actual class: who would animate it and put it to work in service of the community.

It was a very efficient system, and one that had clearly seen quite a lot of adjustment over the years since Earth had experienced the World Tree’s touch. In some ways, it was beautiful. Nothing ever went to waste: not even a dead body: and it had proven quite effective, given the fact that the settlement seemed to be flourishing.

But Elijah still didn’t like it.

His instincts screamed at him to embrace Nature’s Rebuke and rid the world of those walking abominations. Yet, he restrained himself. Just because someone didn’t live their lives the way he would have, it didn’t mean their existence was invalid.

Indeed, he’d begun to suspect that undeath, as difficult as it was for him to accept, was just another form of life in the multi-verse. Maybe it was antithetical to his attunement, but that didn’t mean he would go on a crusade against the people who had embraced it.

Probably.

His disgust was difficult to ignore, though, which hadn’t gone unnoticed by Shen Xun, the old man who ran the temple, who interrupted Elijah’s meditation by saying, “I feel your disdain.”

Elijah opened his eyes to see that the proprietor hovered only a few feet away. He stood with his hands tucked into the voluminous sleeves of his plain, white robe. Elijah asked, “Is it that obvious?”

“To me it is.”

Elijah let out a long sigh, then asked, “Any tips on how to ignore it?”

“It will come in time,” Shen Xun answered. “You are a creature of intense connection to the natural world. Regrettably, our embrace of the xíng shī zǒu ròu does not fall within those narrow confines. We do what we must, putting us outside your purview.”

That was a good characterization of what Elijah felt. He didn’t control nature: not per se: but his connection included a level of comfort with it that he found necessary for who he’d become. And the settlement’s use of zombies: that Shen Xun referred to as xíng shī zǒu ròu: felt like an intrusion upon what he felt was right.

But was Elijah’s perspective the only one that mattered?

His instincts said that what he felt was immutable and undeniable, but his rational mind couldn’t deny what he saw before him. The necromancers weren’t evil. They were just different, even if their actions violated the laws of nature.

“As you grow more powerful, you will learn to ignore or embrace your own nature, depending on your situation.”

“How do you know? Is it something you read in a guide?”

The old man laughed. “Kèjǐ is not of the system,” he said. “It is part of Rújiā, or Confucianism for westerners like you. A concept meant to epitomize mastering of oneself. In that respect, it is similar to your culture’s prominent religions. Christianity stresses overcoming one’s sinful nature, for instance. It is no new idea, but one that I think will be very important in this new, changed world in which we find ourselves. You have a powerful connection to an extremely potent force. It will affect your instincts and drive your actions, if you let it. Overcoming that is the epitome of personal growth.”

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“And what if my instincts are right?” asked Elijah as he chewed on Shen Xun’s words. “What if what they’re telling me is accurate?”

“Controlling your instincts is the first step. Learning when to listen to them is the next,” Shen Xun answered. Then, he smiled, his brown eyes shining as he added, “But I am just an old man who has spent far too much time thinking when I should have been acting. So, heed my words at your own risk. For now, I think you have learned what you can of our people. Go now. Continue your journey and remember that just because we feel wrong doesn’t mean that we are evil.”

“I didn’t think that,” Elijah countered.

“No. But you might have if you let yourself dwell on it.”

That was probably accurate enough, and Elijah didn’t argue otherwise. Without the context provided by close proximity, the feelings he got from the undead: and those who used them for their own purposes: would likely overwhelm his memories of all the normal people. It wasn’t difficult to imagine that he might let those overwhelm his good sense and develop an enmity for the necromancers when they didn’t truly deserve it.

But at the same time, Elijah wasn’t blind to the possibility: and the ease with which: someone could use those powers for evil. He’d seen it in the Primal Realm, and he wasn’t likely to forget what those demons had been up to. So, he resolved to keep a close eye on Hong Kong, just to ensure that they didn’t go down that road. Otherwise, he might wake up one day to find that they’d created an unstoppable army of undead that was poised to sweep across the world.

Or maybe he was being hyperbolic.

Still, after exchanging goodbyes with Shen Xun, he finally left the settlement behind. Belatedly, he realized that he’d never even asked what to call the place. He had no evidence to back it up, but he suspected it wouldn’t be a name nearly as pretentious as Heaven’s Bastion, which was his next: and final: destination before returning home to his grove.

Crossing the rest of the city went off without incident. Elijah saw a few clumps of zombies and a couple of fights as various groups sought experience, but otherwise, he found nothing but more of the same. And that was the problem. As interesting as the interplay between life and death could sometimes be, Elijah was ready for a change of scenery. The bleak confines of the ruined city had worn thin, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.

Or to go anywhere that wasn’t Hong Kong.

So, it was with some degree of relief that he approached Heaven’s Bastion.

The high-rise was much as he remembered, with the plaza ringed by a stout wall and manned by plenty of guards. Each one wore modified versions of riot gear, suggesting that they’d raided a police armory for base materials. Instead of guns, tasers, and pepper spray, they were armed with swords, bows, and other primitive weaponry. It seemed that modern weapons were a thing of the past. Not surprising, considering the combination of their lowered stopping power: apparently, combustion didn’t work the same as it used to: and the increased durability of the population.

In any case, they were incapable of detecting Elijah as he scaled the wall under Guise of the Unseen. Instead of going in through the front door, he decided to climb the building’s walls. As it turned out, it was a good decision, because he sensed something odd about the door, and he suspected that they’d developed some technology that would strip him of stealth the second he passed through.

Elijah had experienced similar things before, and he had no interest in giving away his presence. So, scaling the side of the building was the better option. It wasn’t much more difficult, either, largely due to Shape of Venom’s lizard-like ability to cling to just about any surface, and he reached the top of the high-rise after only a few minutes.

Along the way, he got a good sense of Heaven’s Bastion’s goings-on, and he was both impressed and disappointed by what he felt via Soul of the Wild. It really wasn’t all that different from the unnamed necromancer settlement. Most people within the city were just trying to live their lives. Certainly, Heaven’s Bastion was far less chaotic, and there were no Fleshmongers or the like, but Elijah couldn’t deny that they were just normal people.

Mostly.

But the higher he climbed, the more his disappointment came to the forefront of his mind. Even as the people down below toiled in relative poverty, the ones nearer the top lounged in luxury.

And what’s more, many of them hadn’t earned it. They were weak. Low-leveled and middle-aged, they were obviously remnants of the old world upper class who’d built their lives of comfort on the backs of those they deemed beneath them. Never was that more obvious than with Tianwei himself, who occupied one of the top floors.

He was not a strong man. In terms of levels, he might’ve been in his forties or fifties. And yet, he stood above everyone else. It would have been acceptable if he had done so in service of his people, but that was obviously not the case. His servants cowered in fear when he turned his eyes upon them, which seemed to please him.

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Elijah wasn’t always the best judge of character, but since his first meeting with Song Tianwei, he’d disliked the man. Now, he saw more evidence as to why.

Then, he sensed Nico.

The man was pacing back and forth and ranting, though no one was in the room with him. In fact, he was in a completely abandoned part of the high-rise, which meant that he was talking to himself.

“…and do I get any recognition at all? Of course not. I try to do what they want me to do. I heal everyone I can. I even chose to heal other people instead of Lisa, but what do I get from it? The hatred of that asshole who spread all kinds of rumors about me. My own sister hates me now, and the only thing that makes it worth it is that I’m:”

He cut himself off when there was a knock on the door of the office in which he’d been pacing.

“What?!”

“I’m sorry,” said a servant, bowing as he opened the door. “Song Tianwei requests your presence, young master.”

Nico didn’t hesitate before sweeping out of the room and leaving the area. Still, Elijah was left hanging from the building as he considered what he’d overheard. Or sensed, really. His ears were sensitive enough to hear through the thick glass, but normally, all he’d get was muffled sound. But with Soul of the Wild, he could make out details he otherwise couldn’t have.

In any case, he almost felt sorry for Nico. The man was clearly under a lot of pressure, and he was ill-equipped to cope with his own responsibilities. Elijah didn’t know many details, but he could easily imagine Nico going back and forth, trying to please everyone at once instead of just doing his job. The result was that he never got anything done properly.

He let out a hissing sigh, then continued on his way.

Once he reached the top of the building, he slipped over the edge and crossed the roof. There were a few guards stationed up there, but they clearly weren’t the cream of the crop. Moreover, their eyes were focused on the skies, clearly looking for undead flyers. Elijah passed them by without incident, then headed through the door.

Thankfully, the same anti-stealth technology wasn’t present on that entrance, so Guise of the Unseen remained intact. After that, his descent through the building was easy enough, and he soon found himself four floors down and standing at Sadie’s door.

He could sense her inside, where she was sitting in the middle of the main room, meditating. But watching her without her knowledge felt more than a little creepy, so he wasted no time before shifting out of Shape of Venom and knocking on the door. A few seconds later, Sadie opened the door.

Her mouth fell open, but before she could say anything, he asked, “So, are you all packed up? I want to take you somewhere before we head to the island.”