Leaves fluttered in Elijah’s mind, echoing the morning breeze sweeping through the grove. The balcony of his treehouse gave him a spectacular view of the ancestral tree, which sent a wave of contentment through him. As he took a sip of his coffee, Carmen stepped out of the treehouse and sat next to him. Like him, she cradled a mug of steaming coffee in both hands. She also took a sip, letting loose a sigh as she enjoyed the flavor. “I sometimes forget how spectacular it all is,” Elijah said. “You know, I can feel it all. All the time, too. I know it better than I know my own body. Every leaf. Every worm. Even the bacteria. The nascent fungal colonies. The sand fleas and minnows. I feel it all. But even then, it’s easy to forget just how beautiful it is.” There was a distinct difference between feeling something and laying eyes on it. However, for Elijah, the fact that he knew it all so intimately only deepened the beauty. It was more than just form or function. He admired the essence of it. Or maybe it was all just part of the whole. Sometimes, he had difficulty separating it. “I think I owe you an apology,” Carmen said. “For what?” he asked, glancing at his sister-in-law. They’d spent most of the night catching up and planning the upcoming ceremony, which had somehow morphed into a celebration. Elijah didn’t mind it, though. Those who’d achieved ascension deserved recognition, and it would go a long way toward incorporating the new members of the grove. Still, that kind of thing took planning, which Elijah really didn’t enjoy. “I assumed it was easy.” “The Chimeric Forge. Rationally, I processed what you told me about it, but I just kind of thought…I don’t know. I thought you were exaggerating the danger. But if anything, you understated it. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you,” Carmen said. Leaning forward, she stared into her mug as she continued, “Those things were horrible. You can talk about flesh spiders all you want, but that does not convey the reality of what they are. I’m going to have nightmares for years.” She glanced at Elijah. “And you had to go through that alone. I’m sorry for…I don’t know…for believing it was easy. If you need to talk about it, I’m here.” “I might take you up on that,” he admitted. “But I’m good for now. You’re a few weeks too late.” Then, he told her how he’d dealt with his trauma. Taking a step forward in his mind cultivation wasn’t just a line on his status. Nor was it only about growing more powerful. Sure, it was that – he could feel just how much difference the extra apertures could make – but there was something more important in there. His trauma wasn’t entirely gone. The effects of what he’d been through were still there. But he’d been forced to deal with it, and in the most painful way possible. And as a result, he was more clearheaded than he’d been in years. Maybe since his parents had died. He glanced at Carmen. “What about you? You need to talk about it?” he asked She shook her head. “I have other people for that.” “What? I’m not good enough?” “Elijah. You’re a lot of things. You have a lot of admirable qualities, but you would make a terrible therapist,” she said with a chuckle. “Ouch,” he deadpanned. “Right in the feelings. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.” “I think you’ll be fine,” she said with a wry grin. “Seriously though – if you ever need to talk…” “I know. That’s what family’s for.” After that, they went silent as they enjoyed their respective beverages. Idly, Elijah realized that it had been a while since he’d just savored something. He said, “I’ve been thinking about food.” She tilted her head, slightly confused. “I thought we decided to buy a few boars from the hunter’s guild,” she said. “You don’t think it’ll be enough?” Elijah shook his head. “Not talking about the menu for the party,” he elaborated. “Though now that you mention it, maybe make it four?” Apparently, one of the refugees from Chimera Island was a Cook, and as a Hawaiian, she knew how to do a proper kalua roast. Elijah had enjoyed those quite a lot, so he’d hired her to cook for the upcoming party. Of course, Sue Anne – from Mama Lou’s Diner – had insisted on helping out as well. “If that’s what you think,” Carmen said. “It’s your money. I’m sure it won’t go to waste.” That was probably true. Not only were they inducting nearly eighty new members into the grove, but there were plenty of peripheral people expected to attend. The children’s families at least, plus a few extras from Ironshore. Ramik had even declared it a day of celebration for the city. Elijah wasn’t certain if it was a sign of respect, subservience, or if the goblin mayor was just happy for Elijah and the grove. As it turned out, that was always going to be something of a problem. Outside of his family and a few close friends, Elijah had difficulty assessing who really cared about him and the grove. Most just wanted to curry favor. “Anyway – what I was thinking was that food is kind of a big deal, isn’t it? Think about it. So much of our lives revolves around eating. When we want to celebrate something, we meet for a meal. When we’re grieving, people bring food. We have birthday cakes. Ceremonial feasts. Even people on the verge of execution got last meals. Not last books to be read. Not last movies to watch. A last meal.” “Yeah? People like to eat,” Carmen agreed. “What’s the point?” Follow current novels on NoveI-Fire.ɴet “I stopped enjoying it.” “For the last year, I just…I don’t know. Before, one of my favorite things to do when I visited somewhere new was to go to the local restaurants and try new foods,” Elijah explained. “It gave me some insight into local culture and let me meet new people. You know, fellowship and all that. But lately, I just…I don’t know. I just stopped caring about that. Eating was just something I had to do. I didn’t enjoy it. Not like I used to. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. “In retrospect, I know why, too. I was broken. Or at least I was in the process of breaking. I think I’ve got a handle on it now,” Elijah said. “My mind cultivation should help, and so long as I’m on the lookout for it…” “Therapy. You know, talking to a neutral party about your problems. They suggest ways for you to improve your mental health? Therapy.” Elijah sighed. “Therapy is not the be-all, end-all. It can help. I’ll acknowledge that. But I’d rather just talk to friends. Family. Not some stranger,” Elijah admitted. He’d tried therapy just after he was diagnosed. She actually worked at the University of Hawaii as well, and she came highly recommended. In the end, though, nothing had come from it. She couldn’t change the fact that he was dying. All she could do was ask questions and hope he found some answers that might help. He hadn’t. And for that, she’d charged his insurance a ridiculous sum of money. Elijah wasn’t interested in revisiting that, even if he knew just how much therapy worked for some people. “Besides,” he added. “I don’t have time. You know that as soon as this is done, I’ve got to leave again.” “I’m just worried about you. We all are.” “I’m fine,” he said. “Mostly. Or at least sort of.” He hoped that his recent step forward with mind cultivation would help him deal with future trauma, be it physical or mental, but he still hadn’t tested it out. In theory, he should be capable of discarding the leaves and having them regrow, but he wouldn’t know for certain until he’d seen it in action. “If it helps, I am looking forward to the luau. Been a while since that’s happened. Me looking forward to something, I mean.” “Baby steps,” Carmen said. “Still, at least it’s in the right direction.” With that, the conversation briefly lapsed. When it resumed, the subject was the upcoming party. For all that Elijah wasn’t much of a planner, he found that he enjoyed the anticipation. Eventually, though, he retreated into his treehouse, took a shower, and headed out to consult Nerthus. He found the spryggent in deep conversation with Nara. He’d already created a path that led toward the ancestral tree, which to Elijah, resembled something he might see at a wedding. He’d even grown chairs for the guests. “What’s going on?” Elijah asked on approach. “Final preparations. I have already spoken to the parents of the children of Ironshore, and they have agreed to allow the bonding to go forward. At last count, there are seventy-seven total. Undecided are Kurik and Biggle. I expected that you would want to manage that.” “Probably a good idea,” Elijah said. He could feel both on the island. Biggle was tending to his garden, while Kurik was swimming around and checking his traps. Some, he’d already begun to move to the edge of Elijah’s locus. How he recognized that boundary was a mystery, but he had no issues seeing it. “You going to handle the other preparations?” Nerthus assured him that he would do just that, and Elijah headed out to talk to Biggle. The trip across the island reaffirmed his previous supposition that his locus was insufficient to convey the true beauty of his home. Feeling the animals and seeing them were very, very different. Two sides of the coin, perhaps, and both served to deepen his understanding of the other. A part of him just wanted to sit in the center of one of those glades and enjoy it. But he kept moving, soon arriving at Biggle’s garden. It stood atop a cliff that overlooked the tower. Once, Elijah had jumped from that same precipice and taken his first steps into a new world of towers and Primal Realms. Back then, the tower had seemed so terrifying. Now, it almost felt quaint. “Welcome back,” Biggle said without looking up from where he was pulling weeds. “Glad you’re still alive.” “Me too,” Elijah said, sitting on the low stone fence. It was assuredly useless in keeping out the wildlife, but it served as a good marker. “How have you been?” Biggle sighed. “Let me tell you how I’ve been,” he began before launching into one complaint after another. Most of it had to do with his customers, all of whom seemed destined to annoy Biggle in one way or another. Either they were too demanding, or they weren’t ambitious enough. They either paid too little, or they overpaid, which got them labeled as idiots. The gist of it was that Biggle really, really didn’t like dealing with people, which was a characteristic of which Elijah was already very aware. The Alchemist preferred holing up in his laboratory and working on his potions. Everything else was just an annoyance. When Elijah pointed that out, Biggle nodded along, then said, “I do like gardening, though. Those tentacular horrors are a bit bitey, but…well, that’s just the nature of tentacular horrors, isn’t it?” Elijah followed the gnome’s gesture to see a pair of slithering vines. Instead of thorns, as he might have expected, they were covered in what appeared to be venus fly traps. According to Biggle, they were also very venomous, which was why he’d bothered to grow them at all. “Good for body cultivation potions,” he claimed. Then, he asked, “Why are you here? Not that I don’t enjoy your company. Usually, when you come around, it’s at least interesting. But you don’t typically visit without a purpose.” Elijah took a deep breath, then asked, “Do you want to join the grove?” “What? Me? I’m an Alchemist.” “Alchemists and groves don’t get along.” “I know that too. But I think you’re different.” “The fact that you’re willing to say that tells me that I’m right,” Elijah persisted. “Look – we’re getting an influx of new members. A lot of them are very young. They’re going to need a full support system. That means all kinds of crafters. Administrators. Even Entertainers. Otherwise, we won’t be a real community. And that includes Alchemy. You know it will help them grow.” “I don’t dispute that.” “Then what’s the problem?” Elijah asked. “I know you have a decent nature attunement. It’s not your primary, but it’s not far off, either. You’ll fit right in.” “Do you know why Druids don’t trust Alchemists?” “I have a good idea,” Elijah answered. “You don’t. Not really,” Biggle pointed out. “To become an Alchemist, you can’t just want to make potions. There are other classes that can do that well enough. But we push boundaries. We’re always looking for ways to make a more powerful potion. Or pill. Or powder. So, that grove, with all its natural treasures, is like dangling a boar steak in front of a starving man. Not going over there and plucking one fruit – just one wouldn’t make a difference, right? – it’s maddeningly difficult.” “But you’ve done it so far.” Ignoring that, Biggle went on. “But then one fruit becomes ten. Ten becomes an entire tree. Before long, I’ve swept across the whole island, taking everything of value. I can’t be trusted with that kind of responsibility. Call it a personality flaw. Maybe a result of my attunement. I don’t know. It might even be a class feature. But if you give me an inch, I will take a mile. Maybe not now. Maybe not in a year. But someday. And when I do, you’ll kill me. “I don’t want to die.” “Then don’t. You know the boundaries. You’re your own person, Biggle. You’re more than just a class.” “You say that like I have a choice.” “You do. You have agency. Embrace it.” Biggle sighed, then looked away. After a moment, he said, “I suppose I’ve made it this far without overstepping. I can keep going.” “I will. For better or worse.” After that, Elijah inquired about the Alchemist’s current projects, but it was clear that Biggle wanted to be alone. So, he moved on to Kurik. His response was quite a lot different than Biggle’s, and he embraced the idea of joining the grove. “If you’d’ve asked me six months ago, ain’t no way I’d’ve agreed.” “What changed?” Elijah asked. “Me. No sense tryin’ to change the unchangeable. I am who I am, and the grove offers me the best chance to do what needs doin’. Plus, somebody’s got to keep you in line.” “That’s usually Nerthus’ job.” “Well, then he’s got backup now.” “Thanks,” Elijah said. At that, Kurik laughed. “You say it ain’t a huge opportunity for me. Most of the world would kill for this. I ain’t the one doin’ you a favor. You’re doin’ one for me.” Elijah nodded along, but he knew that wasn’t true. He couldn’t keep going the way he was going. He needed his friends. He needed support. Otherwise, everything would come toppling down. Thankfully, they’d stepped up, which was just as powerfully cathartic as his mind cultivation had been.