Path of Dragons

Elijah sat on the boulder, the trout forgotten as he looked at the notification that had come with the jolt of power to which he’d been subjected after reaching the second level. It said:

Elijah already knew what he had planned, so he slotted the two points into his Regeneration attribute. His reasoning wasn’t complicated; Regeneration was the only attribute that did two things. First, it would help him heal from wounds more quickly. He already had Touch of Nature for that, but there had been plenty of times when he hadn’t wanted to waste his limited Ethera on minor injuries. Now, those nagging issues would heal that much more quickly. But more importantly, the second function of the Regeneration attribute was what he was really after: Ethera Regeneration. The faster he could regain the energy he spent, the more he could use Touch of Nature.

Besides, he was already gaining physical attributes like Strength and Dexterity via his frequent workouts. He had a suspicion that that wouldn’t last forever, though, so he wanted to get as much as he could out of his routine before investing any points in the physical attributes.

After assigning his attributes and confirming his choices, Elijah opened his status to inspect his gains. And he wasn’t disappointed. His Regeneration had increased by two points.

After he reached level three, Elijah intended to invest an additional point in Regeneration before focusing on Ethera. Once that was up to ten points, he would start working on his other attributes. Hopefully, by then, he would know the limits of his physical training, which would give him enough information to make the right choices. The same line of thinking told him to get everything to ten, then specialize from there based on his experiences.

Indeed, there was a part of him that just wanted to throw everything into his physical attributes. Being stronger, more coordinated, or more durable never hurt anyone. However, because of his archetype, he expected that he would become increasingly more reliant on his spells. Those required Ethera, and he was almost certain that he’d eventually outgrow the meager size of his core. No – for better or worse, he was on the path of a spellcaster, and aside from being fit enough to survive, he needed to assign his attributes along those lines.

Fortunately, there was no ambiguity about what each attribute did, so he could make his plans with at least some degree of certainty.

Sighing, he closed his status before opening a new window. This one described his archetype and, more importantly, the spell that came with his new level. How he knew he’d get one, he wasn’t sure, but that knowledge was firmly entrenched in his mind.

That had potential, depending on how strong those roots turned out to be. Certainly, it could help him kill the crabs – or more importantly, help him escape if he made a mistake. Even with his experience and a proven technique, killing the crustaceans was no sure thing. More than once, he’d picked a fight he couldn’t win and been forced to retreat, frustrated and wounded. But with this new spell, perhaps his hunting would become safer. And given that Elijah’s survival was balanced on the edge of a knife, safer was always better.

He ached to try it out, but there were no enemies about. So, he reluctantly went back to fishing. And over the next few hours, Elijah had decent success, catching four more fish, which he gutted and cleaned before tossing the offal into the water. Then, with his catch in hand, he set off back toward the cabin, where he intended to use some of the wild herbs and mushrooms to make a fish stew. It wasn’t the tastiest thing around due to a lack of proper spices, but it was better than his initial attempts at cooking the crab.

Along the way, though, a familiar foreboding sent a shiver up his spine, and he let out a sigh. He knew his stalker had returned – no surprise there; even when he didn’t have a basket full of fresh fish, it rarely let him walk through the forest unobserved.

“Come for your tribute, huh?” he said as calmly as he could. Still, there was a slight tremble of fear in his voice. He liked to think that he and the cat – whatever it was – had an understanding, but the fact was that he could very well have been fooling himself. It was a wild animal, and judging by his senses, almost assuredly far deadlier than he could hope to be. He had no idea what was going through its mind.

Even so, now that he’d started down this path, he knew that trying to stop wouldn’t be smart. So, he grabbed three of the fish and tossed them onto the ground before saying, “Eat well, your majesty.”

Then, he backed away. There was a rustle in the nearby brush before a huge shape appeared. Elijah’s jaw dropped as he beheld the creature. In a lot of ways, it looked like a panther. But he’d seen panthers before, and none of them were even half this monster’s size. In fact, this creature was closer to the size of a tiger than the panthers Elijah had seen.

But that wasn’t the only thing that made him wary. It also had a few characteristics that distinguished it from any other panther – or other animal – Elijah had ever seen. For one, everything about it seemed exaggerated. From its musculature to the size of its teeth or claws, it was all too much. On top of that, it bore a white stripe down its spine that branched down to its ribs, slowly fading into black.

And then there were its eyes. Emerald green and glistening with intelligence, they told Elijah that he wasn’t dealing with some mundane animal. Like the tree, this creature was magical in nature.

More than anything, Elijah wanted to turn and run. While pursuing his doctorate, he’d worked as an intern at a local zoo. And once, he’d seen a lion turn on one of its keepers; it had been a massacre that the woman had barely survived, and that only because the animal hadn’t really been interested in killing her. If it had been, there was no chance she would have survived.

And this creature was almost twice the size of a typical lion. It also moved with unnatural grace, telling Elijah that its bulk wouldn’t slow it down. If he ran, it would pounce, and there would be nothing he could do about it. Even with the local wildlife having been transformed, this creature was an apex predator.

The panther stepped forward, its green eyes locked on Elijah. It moved slowly. Carefully. And with deadly silence. Elijah’s heart thundered in his chest even as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. If the panther attacked, he could use his new spell. He had his spear. And he was almost as fit as he’d been before his cancer diagnosis. But instinctively, he knew none of that would matter. He was inferior in every single way, and he only lived because it chose to let him live.

It ducked its head and snapped up one of the fish. It swallowed it in a second before eating the second. Then the third. Before Elijah knew it, the panther had finished eating the overlarge trout.

Then, it shifted its gaze to Elijah’s basket.

It wanted more.

He swallowed hard before slowly retrieving one of his two fish from the basket, then tossing it toward the panther. The fish landed only a few feet away from the panther, but it didn’t even look at it. Instead, its eyes remained locked on the basket.

“Oh, come on…”

A low growl cut him off.

With no more complaining, Elijah threw his remaining fish toward the huge panther, who snapped both up just as quickly as it had the first few. Then, without any hesitation, it turned around and melted back into the undergrowth. In the space of a second, it was gone.

Elijah stood there for a couple of minutes, unable to move. He could barely even breathe. But then, resentment set in. He’d just wasted half the day so he could feed a giant cat.

Now, he had no choice but to go back to his fishing hole and hope he could catch something else. Sighing, he did just that, and by the time he reached it, the sun had already passed its zenith and was heading toward the horizon. In a few hours, it would be dusk, so he knew he’d only have time to get a single fish. Maybe two, if he was lucky.

“Unless that stupid cat decides to shake me down again,” he muttered, tossing his line into the water. Almost immediately, he felt a nibble, and he grinned. Perhaps his luck was changing.

He tugged on the homemade string, wrapping it around his elbow. But the fish on the end of the line wasn’t going to come in without a fight. Still, Elijah was an old hand at fishing, and he continued to work the line until he felt it go slack. At first, he thought that the line had broken – it wouldn’t have been the first time, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.

But then, he saw a dark shadow in the water before, suddenly, something burst forth from the waves. Elijah only got a brief view of scales and sharp teeth before he threw himself backwards. He tumbled off the boulder and to the ground below, and by some miracle, managed to keep from breaking his neck.

When he looked up, he saw an abomination looking down at him.

It was dark blue-green in color, with four arms, glistening scales, and a face that looked like it belonged to some bottom-dwelling monstrosity. The monster – and it definitely was a monster, there was no doubt – screeched at him before launching itself into the air.

For a split second, Elijah froze.

But then, instincts born of uncountable hours in the boxing ring took over, and Elijah dove aside. His brief hesitation cost him, though, and a line of fire erupted across his back. He screamed as he was sent rolling across the rocky shore. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he ignored the worst of the pain as he pushed himself to his feet.

The monster looked at him, then against all odds, its hideous face split into a wide grin. A chill ran up Elijah’s spine as he realized that the thing wasn’t just a monster. It was that, but it was so much more. It raised one of its claws, then licked Elijah’s blood away. Its smile widened.

Elijah had a brief moment to take stock of the situation. His spear was atop the boulder, so it was out of reach. He had the flint-bladed axe at his waist, but it was barely even sharp enough to split wood, much less cut through that thing’s viridian scales. So it was useless.

No – if he wanted to survive, he had only one option: he had to run.

So, as the creature advanced – in no apparent hurry – Elijah embraced the Ethera in his core and pushed it into the webwork of channels that constituted his soul. Then, he cast Snaring Roots.

The Ethera left his core in a rush, taking all but a third of his reserves, but it went to good use because, a moment later, thick, brown roots erupted from the ground, snaking around the monster’s legs. They twisted and turned, ensnaring its entire lower body.

Elijah didn’t stay to see how far the spell would go, because he knew he only had a narrow avenue of escape. So, once the creature was trapped, Elijah turned and ran, crashing through the underbrush and stumbling over exposed roots. Already, the blood loss was getting to him, but he couldn’t afford the time needed to stop and heal. So, he continued to run, hoping that the monster would be reluctant to follow him inland.

But only fifteen or twenty seconds later, Elijah heard the sounds of the creature’s pursuit. He pushed himself, but he just wasn’t fast enough. He tripped over a rock he should have been able to avoid, and he went tumbling down a slight incline and into a shallow depression. When he looked up, he saw that the monster had already caught up. His spell had briefly slowed it down, but it was completely insufficient against such a powerful creature.

Elijah scrambled back, searching for a weapon. A stick. A rock. Anything.

He came up empty-handed, and once again, the monster grinned its sickening grin before stepping forward.

At the end of his rope, Elijah embraced Touch of Nature, hoping to heal the wound in his back so he could try to fight the monster off. In the back of his mind, he knew it was useless. With the size of that monster – it was at least seven feet tall and dense with muscle – and the way it moved, he didn’t stand a chance. Even if he’d been armed, those scales looked tough. Perhaps if he’d had something more potent than Snaring Roots, he would have been able to hold his own.

But he had none of those things, so he was almost assuredly going to die.

That was okay, though. Elijah had made peace with his own mortality long ago. On that plane, he’d been ready to die; the fact that he’d gotten even a few more weeks was a miracle.

Still, none of that meant he was going to go down without a fight.

The Ethera in Elijah’s core drained away, fueling Touch of Nature as the wound in his back healed. It wasn’t perfect; it would probably break open the moment he moved. For now, though, it would have to be enough. He’d reevaluate if he somehow managed to survive against the monster.

As the viridian beast slowly advanced – it seemed to be savoring Elijah’s fear – he pushed himself to his feet and squared his shoulders, ready for whatever came next.

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