Elijah’s internal conflict originated with his own hypocrisy. He’d once killed a group of hunters for murdering the bear whose very hide he now wore as a cloak, but not long before that, he’d slaughtered the sovereign spider without a hint of remorse or hesitation. At the time, he’d fooled himself into believing it had been necessary, but he knew that wasn’t true. After he’d injured the spider and killed its children, he could have continued on his way unmolested.
Instead, he’d stalked it to a cave and finished it off.
That, in turn, had allowed the orcs free passage through the mountains, which had not ended well for anyone involved. Elijah wasn’t so deluded as to believe the invasion was his fault. It wasn’t. The orcs would have killed the spider themselves if Elijah hadn’t. But at the same time, that would have undoubtedly thinned the horde a little. So, at least some of Ironshore’s blood was on his hands.
“What did you do with the body?” Elijah asked.
“Butchered it. A good bit was already rotten, but we got a fair share,” Kurik answered. “Biggle’s puttin’ together some body cultivation potions with it.”
“I see,” Zeke said, wondering if the potions he’d used had used the sovereign spider’s corpse as one of their ingredients.
After that, the pair lapsed into comfortable silence.
Elijah wasn’t antisocial by nature. Or he hadn’t been before the world had changed. However, spending years alone on his island had fostered a certain aversion to too much civilization, and he’d yet to tear himself free of that attitude. Likely, he never would. So, as much as he enjoyed brief periods of socialization, it never took him long to reach the limits of his patience.
When that happened, the wilderness seemed even more enticing than ever.
So, Elijah appreciated the opportunity to travel to Norcastle with someone whose attitude mirrored his own.
In any case, he and Kurik traveled in companionable silence until they reached the termination of the pass. Once there, Elijah stopped and said, “Do you want to swing by where I saw the orcs? Just to make sure they’re not back?”
Kurik shrugged. “Might as well,” he drawled. “We checked it before, but ain’t no harm in doublin’ up, if you know what I mean.”
After that, the two headed towards the abandoned Wal-Mart where Elijah had first encountered the orcs. Back then, he’d chosen to leave them be, completely ignorant of how much of a problem they represented. Even then, they were too many for him to fight alone, but still, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should have made an effort. After all, Elijah had proven that he was at least fairly skilled at guerilla tactics, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he could have at least decreased their numbers enough to make the following invasion a much less serious issue.
But hindsight was useless, except to learn from his mistakes and apply those lessons to future problems. So, he tucked that information away and focused on the present.
Gradually, Elijah and Kurik made their way across the landscape. Each time they passed a relic of the old world – whether it was an old gas station, someone’s home, or some other abandoned building – Elijah took the time to explain the history to Kurik. For his part, the dwarven scout seemed fairly interested, especially in cars. After seeing a large eighteen-wheeler that had been abandoned on the side of a strip of highway, Kurik said, “We got transports back home, too. They use ethera, but I always found ‘em interestin’. My da always said I missed my true callin’. Shoulda been a teamster, he’d say. Noble profession, that. Requires quick reflexes.”
“The drivers were important here, too. Without them, the whole world would’ve come to a grinding halt. People would have starved.”
“Interestin’.”
Then, they moved on, though Kurik showed incredible interest in all the varieties of automobiles they passed. He also found the abandoned buildings intriguing, but only for whatever resources they might offer. Each time they found anyplace that hadn’t been picked clean, Kurik marked the location on the map he’d started drawing the moment they’d passed through to the other side of the mountains.
They also encountered a few Voxx, though none so strong that the creatures would give either Elijah or Kurik any trouble. Still, it was a nice source of experience for the dwarven scout, who actually gained a level along the way. For his part, Elijah felt that it would take quite a bit more than a few scattered Voxx to send him to level fifty-seven. But that was fine – he was still in the top ten on the power rankings, which meant that he was one of the strongest people on Earth.
And given how difficult it had been to advance his cultivation – especially attaining the Dragon Core as well as the Body of Stone – he expected that he had a leg up on everyone else that had nothing to do with raw levels. Though, there was every chance that the top performers would have experienced similar advantageous encounters, so Elijah tried to keep those sorts of useless assumptions in the back of his mind where they wouldn’t affect his actions.
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Eventually, they reached their first destination, which was the abandoned Wal-Mart. In some ways, it looked much the same as it had when he’d last seen it. The structure was still intact, and the parking lot still hadn’t been overtaken by the surrounding forest. However, a musty smell that Elijah had learned to associate with orcs hung over the entire area.
“Are you sure you got them all?” Elijah asked.
“Pretty sure,” said the scout, unhooking his axe from the loop at his belt. “Only way to be certain, though.”
Elijah shrugged. Then, without any further hesitation, he embraced Shape of the Predator, adopting his draconid form.
“Won’t never get used to that,” muttered Kurik with a shiver.
“What?” asked Elijah, his voice coming out in a low growl that gave anything he said an aggressive tilt.
“You don’t know how unnervin’ you look,” Kurik stated. “Ain’t nobody can see that and not think of dragons. And any thought that strays into that territory sends a shiver up even the bravest spine.”
“Huh.”
Elijah knew dragons were, in a lot of ways, at the top of the universal food chain. According to everything he’d learned from Nerthus – as well as the few guides he’d bought – dragons were an elder race. However, seeing that in a guide was one thing. Seeing it in his friend’s reaction was something else altogether.
“I’ll go first. You want to stay out here? Or you coming with?” Elijah asked.
“I’ll go with you. Don’t go sneaky on me.”
“Then I’m not doing it in this form,” he said, embracing Shape of the Guardian and growing into the form of the lamellar ape. “There. Much safer.”
Kurik just shook his head.
Rather than repeat their previous conversation, Elijah loped ahead, crossing the parking lot and ducking through the opening that had once been the building’s entrance. Before the world had transformed, it had been glass, but now, it was guarded only by a sheet of leather that had been stitched together from a dozen hides. The orcs were no leatherworkers, though, and the hides had not been cured. So, after months of neglect, they were mostly rotted and smelled terrible.
Elijah ignored that as he pushed through the entrance and looked around. There were still plenty of remnants of the old world present. The checkout counters remained in place, and Elijah recognized the produce section as well as what had once been a deli. However, the aisles had been dismantled and repurposed to create a series of primitive structures that must have been the orcs’ domiciles.
That suggested a level of development Elijah didn’t want to consider. Instead, he preferred to think of them as animals who’d piled together for warmth and security. That they’d managed to build even the crude and primitive structures inside the Wal-Mart was enough to make Elijah nauseous.
He’d killed hundreds of them. If they were slavering beasts, that was fine. He could accept that. But if they were people, even ones who’d firmly established themselves as the enemy, it would necessitate a completely different sort of feeling.
Was it guilt, precisely?
No. But it wasn’t not-guilt, either.
Whatever it was, Elijah didn’t want to think about it. So, he focused on the task at hand, and he led Kurik through the Wal-Mart as they searched for any remaining orcs. They found none, though Elijah did get an impromptu lesson on orcish reproduction.
“They lay eggs?”
“Sort of. It’s more like they have an ability that lets them manifest these pods. The orcs claw their way out once they’ve reached maturity,” Kurik explained, nodding to the still-gooey pods. To Elijah, they looked like terrestrial fish eggs, though that wasn’t altogether accurate, either. In fact, there was nothing Elijah had seen outside of a movie that could adequately compare to the orc’s reproduction pods.
“They look like the pods from the Matrix combined with the eggs from Alien,” he muttered to himself.
“What?” Kurik asked.
Then, Elijah went down a tangent where he tried to explain movies to Kurik. Apparently, the concept of plays was not alien to him or the rest of the universe, so he understood it well enough. Still, Elijah vowed to hunt down a television and DVD player, as well as a means of producing electricity so he could show his friend the glory of film.
“I think we should burn it,” Elijah said after that conversation petered out.
“Not a bad idea,” Kurik agreed.
After that, they spent far more time than either intended carting armfuls of wood into the building. It ended up taking nearly three days of constant work to finish, but when they did, they set the whole thing ablaze. Fortunately, there was little chance of the fire spreading, what with it being surrounded by acres of concrete, so they watched the orcish settlement burn without worry.
And Elijah had to admit that he felt some degree of satisfaction that had nothing to do with orcs. After all, Wal-Mart, for all its convenience, was representative of everything that had been wrong with the old world. So, watching it burn felt cathartic in a way Elijah didn’t really want to examine.
A day later, Elijah and Kurik were back on the proverbial road. Their journey continued unimpeded until, at last, they reached the edge of the forest. In the distance, Elijah could see the city of Norcastle, which looked much the same as it did the last time he’d visited.
“Are you comin’?” asked Kurik.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Elijah responded. “Last time I was here, I didn’t leave on the best terms. Probably best if I make myself scarce. When you get to the gate, ask for Captain Essex. He’s a decent man, and he’ll introduce you to whoever you need to see about a trade alliance.”
“Aight, then,” Kurik said. He extended his hand, and Elijah grasped it. As they shook, Kurik said, “Easiest trip through the wilderness I ever had. Normally, beasts are more of a problem.”
Elijah shrugged. “Guess I’m a lucky charm. Be careful. I don’t think they’ll attack you on sight, but you never know. Humans are touchy,” Elijah said.
“You say that like you ain’t one.”
“What can I say? I know my people,” he said.
After that, the pair parted ways, and Elijah shifted into his draconid form before setting off for Argos. He hadn’t forgotten the spell evolution quest for Ancestral Circle, but he wasn’t going to waste it by building a dolmen in Norcastle. For one, it was too close to his grove for what he had planned. For another, his experiences in Norcastle had left a bad taste in his mouth, and for now, he intended to avoid the place. Perhaps that would change sometime in the future, but Elijah wasn’t eager to reach that point.
Argos, though, was far enough away that he wouldn’t consider it a waste to create a dolmen there. Besides, he had a much better impression of the formerly Greek city. So, it was with some eagerness that he sped across the terrain.