15-39. Companionship

“Wait. You never even asked?”

Elijah looked away, slightly embarrassed at the answer. Alrhok just laughed, which prompted Elijah to point out, “I just assumed the Scales of Peace was someone’s official title.”

“It’s not,” Alrhok countered.

“Yeah. I get that now.”

Indeed, he’d been a little surprised to find out that the Scales of Peace referred to a mandate from the emperor. It was one of his abilities in practice, like a domain restriction that was meant to deter conflict and violent crime within their realm. Of course, it usually just acted as a warning system, and the Peace Wardens were the ones meant to enforce the laws. However, there were rumors that for the more powerful violators – or truly heinous crimes – the emperor was capable of using the ability to smite the perpetrators.

After explaining that, Alrhok said, “I heard it’s a lightning bolt from the sky.”

Okar argued, “That’s bullshit. It’s a gravity ball.”

“My mother told me that the emperor just makes them disappear. No sign of struggle. No ethereal signature. They just disappear, and the very memory of them goes with them,” Imal added her theory.

“Bullshit,” Okar repeated.

Alrhok said, “The point is that the Scales of Peace is a domain ability, not a…uh…constabulary. So long as you’re within the emperor’s domain, you’re safe from most violent crime.”

“Unless someone has an assassin class,” Okar pointed out. “There are also thief classes that can steal the ethereum right out of your folio.”

“That’s not true,” Imal argued. “My mother said –”

“Your mother’s wrong,” Okar interrupted, taking a swig from his mug. It was some sort of spicy alcohol that shared some similarities with beer. It also felt like drinking liquid fire. Literally. “I’ve seen it myself.”

“And where would you see something like that?” she challenged. “You’re just a rich boy slumming it like a common mercenary. Why don’t you go back to your tower and –”

“Guys,” Alrhok interrupted. “Let’s not do this again.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Okar insisted.

Imal countered, “You know what you did.”

Elijah sighed, leaning back in his chair. The two hadn’t stopped bickering for more than a couple of minutes all night. It was mostly good-natured – the sort of banter one would expect between companions. However, there was a hint of bitterness beneath it all that told Elijah that both of them believed at least parts of what they were saying.

It wasn’t really surprising. Okar was the son of a powerful pair of Merchants. Sure, he was just a serpentor – like Imal herself – but in the Empire of Scale, that didn’t restrict people from making loads of money. And Okar’s parents had done just that, becoming successful enough that they carried political power similar to a down-and-out dragon clan.

A seemingly low bar until one realized just how rare that was.

By contrast, Imal came from a far more modest place, and she seemed to resent the halfling’s wealth and support. Growing up poor – or at least as far as that label went in the Empire of Scale – had definitely put a chip on Imal’s shoulder. Usually, it just led her to work harder, as evidenced by the power she had achieved. After all, she’d beaten Alrhok in the Tournament of the First Fang, and she would have likely reached the top eight if she hadn’t run into Elijah.

The same was true of Okar, though it was a little more expected for him, what with all the support of his parents’ wealth. He never would have stooped to cheating like Cyran, but his family had given him the best of the best when it came to his tutelage. It would have been more surprising if he wasn’t a strong competitor.

Either way, both were well aware of their differences, and they were bitter toward one another.

At the end of the day, Okar and Imal were friends, but there was still a tinge of animosity there. Sometimes, that forced Alrhok to act as mediator – a long-suffering role that he played well.

After a few more minutes, he managed to defuse the situation such that Imal and Okar headed to the other side of the common room to participate in a game that resembled darts. The difference was that there were nine moving targets, and the darts were more like daggers. Elijah had seen the game being played, so he knew it could easily get out of hand. In one instance, the targets had begun to move so quickly that he suspected he wouldn’t have been able to see them without wearing his Girdle of the Wild Revenant.

Even with enhanced reaction speeds, he’d have struggled.

Either way, the contest would occupy the two long enough for their argument to shift into healthy competition, which left Elijah and Alrhok in peace.

“So, any luck changing your focus?” Elijah asked, throwing his arm over the back of the booth. He took a sip from his own mug, then sucked his teeth at the bitter taste. The stuff was billed as mead, but either it was poorly made, or someone had lied. Whatever the case, it tasted nothing like the stuff Elijah had made.

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It was potent, though.

Alrhok answered with a wide grin. “I got a job. Builder’s apprentice, just like I’d planned.”

“Sounds…”

“Not that interesting, I know. But there’s a chance that I’ll be able to participate in the upcoming…ah…event.”

“I know about Orveth Kaal.”

“Oh. Good,” Alrhok said, relieved. “Then you probably know that we’ll be sending armies in there. The way it’s structured, they need tons of support personnel to build the forts. And that’s not even counting the actual objectives, which require specialized workers.”

He massaged the back of his neck, adding, “It’ll give me a chance to add another non-combat feat to my Legacy. Maybe it’ll be enough to give me a hybrid evolution.”

“And in the meantime, the Builder gets a strong fighter who can step up in a pinch,” Elijah reasoned.

Alrhok nodded, saying, “Something like that. I just hope it’s enough.”

“If not?”

The big dragon looked away, not responding for a few seconds. Then, he sighed, saying, “I don’t know. There’s a lot more pressure on me now.”

“Why?”

“I’m the only one with any potential. My other two siblings are disappointments. Unremarkable people living unremarkable lives. Sure, they work for the clan’s interests, and they’re fine for that. But they’re not special, save that they’re dragons,” Alrhok said. “The clan’s future is in my hands, now.”

“What about Kaela?” Elijah asked.

Again, Alrhok went silent for a few seconds. In the meantime, Elijah heard Imal and Okar taunting one another over their performance in the dagger-throwing game. Elijah didn’t pay them much attention.

“You didn’t hear.”

“Hear what?” Elijah asked.

“She ran away,” he answered. “They rushed her to the cusp of deification. She was already close, and when she got there, she had options. Better ones than me, I’m sure. She was always the strong one.”

He stared at his mug, his shoulders slumped.

“And then, suddenly, she was gone,” he said. “My parents tracked her to the Branch, but they have no idea where she went. They…were not happy.”

They might not have been, but Elijah was. Knowing that they had committed to sending Kaela to the front lines, probably to die, always left him a little choked up. He’d wanted nothing more than to rescue her, like some knight in shining armor. However, he knew he was incapable of making good on that desire.

For all that Elijah was strong for his level, he was still just a low-tier demigod. Most deities would kill him without a moment’s struggle. His advantage was nothing more than potential, yet to be realized. The grim reality was that if he tried to rescue Kaela, he’d just end up getting himself killed.

That didn’t stop him from thinking about it. Planning it. From considering asking Mano for help.

But he hadn’t, because he knew precisely how badly that would go for everyone involved. Mano would take no prisoners. He would walk in, make his demand, and if someone refused, he would kill them. And that would probably turn into a massacre that would doubtless create further conflict. That conflict would soon devolve into a war that would affect millions, if not billions, of people.

No – one person, no matter how important to him, was worth that kind of escalation. Knowing that didn’t stop him from feeling like he’d betrayed her. Like he’d failed some test he’d never even taken.

So, it was with that in mind that Elijah found himself smiling.

“Good for her,” he said. “No idea where she went?”

Alrhok shook his head. “She left the empire. That’s as far as I know,” he revealed. “I wish she had sent me a message. I know why she didn’t, but…”

“She’ll be okay. This is for the best,” Elijah said. “Out there, she can make her own way, and one day, she’ll come back with real power.”

“Do you think they let her go?” Alrhok asked.

“Do you?”

He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “Maybe. Nothing happens there without someone knowing about it,” he answered. “She shouldn’t have ever made it to the Branch. Not without someone stopping her.”

“They just let her go, then?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe they didn’t think she’d do it. Kaela always had a strong sense of duty. Not like me. I thought she’d take her exile. Maybe she would look at it as a crucible, you know? A way to get stronger.” He leaned back. “But I don’t know. I’m glad, though. Like you said, she might be able to build a life now.”

“And as a dragon of her caliber, she’ll stand out.”

“She always did,” Alrhok said with only a hint of frustration in his voice. It must’ve been difficult to always live in his sister’s shadow. By most people’s reckoning, the earth-attuned dragon carried a ton of potential. But the combination of his attunement and his inferiority to Kaela had always put him a step down in his clan’s eyes.

“What do they think about it?” Elijah asked. “Your parents, I mean.”

“I don’t know. They’re pretending I don’t exist.”

“Ouch.”

Alrhok took another gulp of his steaming beverage. It was like hot chocolate, though with more than a hint of alcohol that Elijah thought ruined the entire drink. But he didn’t judge.

Not much.

The big dragon explained, “They’ll make an overture soon. Probably before Orveth Kaal. They’ll ask me to come back, for the good of the clan. They will want me to take a proper combat class evolution. They’ll offer me rewards. Cultivation resources. Love and support.”

He snorted in derision.

“Love, but only on the condition that I return and take the place they have planned for me,” Alrhok scoffed. “Does that even count as love? I don’t think so. They just want me to be a purposefully shaped cog in their little machine.”

“It’ll be alright.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Alrhok grunted, a faraway look in his eye. “But I won’t let them bully me into doing what they want. This is my life, and I’m going to live it how I need to live it. Damn them.”

He gulped the chocolate beverage down, then slammed it on the table. It fell like a gavel, passing judgement on his parents and their plan for his life.

“Doesn’t make it any easier, though. I’ve got a long road ahead of me,” he admitted. “I need opportunity and support. Raising a crafter isn’t cheap, especially when I’m starting so late.”

Then, he went on to explain that leveling a true Tradesman was a costly endeavor, the price mitigated by their ability to produce low-level goods. “I don’t really have that because I can’t make anything worthwhile. Not now. And I won’t get there until I get that hybrid evolution. The only way I’m going to make it is if I pour ethereum into the endeavor, knowing good and well that I’ll never get it back.”

“Maybe the feat from Orveth Kaal will help.”

“I hope so,” Alrhok said, though he didn’t seem hopeful. “But I’d rather live the rest of my life as a poor demigod than to follow the path they set for me.”

Before Elijah could respond, Okar and Imal returned. Both looked flushed from the game, which had apparently ended without a true resolution. They bickered as the retook their seats, both claiming victory.

Elijah just sat back and enjoyed the show.