Path of Dragons-Chapter 19Book 9: : The Front Lines

Miguel could barely feel his legs. Sweat poured from his head, slicking his hair and burning his eyes. He’d long since given up on wiping it free. It just came back a few seconds later. Every step came with a heaving breath, and his stomach twisted into nauseous knots.

Yet, he pushed on, passing a group of illythiri trainees who’d long since given up. They were clearly spent, having collapsed to the side of the gravel track. Healers and other attendants had flocked to them, ensuring they were neither injured nor dehydrated. But despite their clear exhaustion, Miguel couldn’t help but look down on them.

Not because he’d kept going.

That was a given. He wouldn’t stop until his body gave out. The reason for his disdain was a few hundred feet in front of him.

Isaak still trudged along. Each step came on shaky feet, and every so often, he’d turn his head and dry heave. He’d long since emptied the contents of his stomach, and his entire body was soaked with sweat. The mage hadn’t covered nearly as much ground as Miguel, who’d lapped his friend dozens of times over the past few hours, but that wasn’t important. The fact that he refused to give up was all that mattered.

If Miguel hadn’t already learned to respect the other young man, he certainly would have after training alongside him. Isaak was clearly less physically gifted than the other trainees, most of which were blessed with physical archetypes. Even with their attributes shackled, they had distinct advantages that meant that Isaak would never be able to keep up.

Yet, he could endure, and in that way, he would eventually pass them.

“Keep it up,” Miguel breathed as he passed his friend. “You got this. One more lap.”

“Always,” the young man grunted, his face beat red.

Miguel had lost track of how long they’d been running. He didn’t know how many laps they’d completed. But he knew it far exceeded anything that would have been possible before the World Tree’s roots had extended to touch Earth. Attributes were odd that way. Sure, shackled down to almost nothing, he couldn’t express even a fraction of his normal power. However, he was still practically superhuman – or at least at the peak of what humanity could have achieved before the world had changed.

So, he was capable of far more than the normal human standard, and he was more than determined to find his limits. Isaak already had found his, though he refused to accept them.

On they went, lap after lap, and eventually, the Sorcerer simply collapsed. The Healers were on him in a second, ensuring his safety. Miguel only let himself be distracted long enough to determine that Isaak would be okay. Then, he focused his mind on the task at hand.

Each step sent fire up his legs, and his chest heaved like a bellows. A note of dizziness had become the norm, and he struggled to concentrate. Even so, he never stopped moving.

Until he ran into what felt like a brick wall.

He caromed off the obstacle that shouldn’t have been there, ending up sprawling on the track. That sudden change was enough to sap the rest of his strength. He’d been running on momentum for quite some time, but now that he’d stopped, there was absolutely no chance he could continue.

Miguel lay there for a long while, attempting to regulate his breathing. It wouldn’t cooperate. Not until he felt a whisper of ethera jolt through his body, restoring some of his energy. Only then did he start to recover, but even with magic pouring him, he knew it would take some time before he caught his breath.

“You should drink,” came a familiar and commanding voice. “Sit up.”

Miguel obeyed the order, though not without some difficulty. He opened his eyes, then levered himself upright. Once there, he squinted through the sweat at Ivin. The elf was just as imposing as ever, but that aura was made even more prominent by the armor he wore.

Black, and with a multitude of ridges, it looked as much like a weapon as a deterrent for damage. If something tried to grapple him, it would be cut to pieces. And judging by the blood staining many of those jagged protrusions, something had recently made just such an attempt.

Not surprising.

Ivin had his own duties, which often included running one of the towers within Illythiri territory or patrolling the Hollow Depths in an effort to ensure his people’s safety. He was a leader, but he clearly preferred to lead from the front. Of all the elf’s characteristics, Miguel respected that most of all.

Certainly, he understood the value of a Tactician remaining in the rear and directing their troops, but the notion still left a sour taste in his mouth. More than once, he thanked the system for not offering him the opportunity to follow that path. He’d have been miserable with that sort of life.

Finally, he took an offered waterskin from one of the attendants and took a long drink. That sent a wave of vitality through him, though it wasn’t nearly enough to banish his exhaustion. It did help clear his thoughts, though.

“How long was I running?”

“Slightly longer than six hours,” Ivin answered. “I have been watching for the last two.”

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Six hours. He glanced back at where the other trainees had congregated, but saw that no one was there. Even Isaak had gone. If he’d been back in a pre-World Tree Earth, they’d have already turned the lights off on him.

“I guess I got a little carried away,” he admitted.

“You must not lose focus. Endurance is necessary. The ability to push past your limits is a good thing. However, when doing so, you must maintain your wits,” Ivin stated evenly. “What would have happened if you’d been attacked?”

“I…I would have died,” he admitted. Certainly, not if he’d had access to his abilities and attributes, but shackled as he was, he had no defense when he was so exhausted. “I see what you mean.”

“Internalize the lesson, boy. You will need it where we’re going,” Ivin stated.

“What? Where are we going?” Miguel asked.

“To the front lines.”

Miguel frowned. “Do you think I’m ready?”

Ivin shook his head. “No one is ever ready for that. This is training,” he answered. “Perhaps the most valuable lesson you will ever learn can only be taught when the enemy is directly in front of you.”

“What lesson is that?”

“You will see. In the meantime, I expect you to rest for the night, then be ready to depart in the morning. I will remove your shackles then,” Ivin explained. “Do not disappoint me.”

Then, he turned on his heel and marched away. Miguel watched the broad-shouldered illythiri until he disappeared into an adjoining hall. For a few minutes, he just sat there, recovering his energy as he sipped on the vitality-infused water. It certainly wasn’t enough to prompt a full recovery – far from it – but it helped get him back on his feet within half an hour.

During that time, Miguel considered the information Ivin had revealed. On the one hand, it was an exciting prospect, heading out into the wilderness to confront the enemy that had pushed the elves so hard. Almost like an adventure. However, in the back of his mind, he knew that it would be incredibly dangerous, even with such a powerful mentor leading the way.

Once he’d recovered enough to find his feet, Miguel staggered toward where he’d left his sword. He’d wanted to carry it with him, but weapons were prohibited on the track. He took it with him back to his quarters, which he shared with Isaak. That’s where he found his friend lying on the lone couch.

“I’m dying,” Isaak complained. “I can feel it.”

“You’re not dying. You’re just not a fighter.”

“I don’t know why I’m supposed to do all this physical training in the first place. You know what they do with their Sorcerers? They put them on top of walls and have them cast spells. I don’t need to be able to run to do that.”

“Until the bad guys break through. You’ll be thankful for your training when that happens.”

Isaak sighed. “Suppose you’re right. Were you still going all this time?”

Miguel nodded. “Ivin came to me and said I’m leaving tomorrow, though,” he said. Then, he explained the bit of information he’d been given, adding, “We’ve only been here for a couple of months. I can’t help but feel that we’re not ready.”

“Speak for yourself. I’ve learned so much about ethera. I bet I get a Feat of Strength just for learning,” Isaak said.

In addition to his physical training, the Sorcerer had been tasked with attending classes taught by the elven mages. Miguel didn’t understand everything his friend had explained about his lessons, but the gist of it was how to subtly adjust ethereal flows in order to get the most out of his spells. There was an art to it, apparently, and while the effects wouldn’t be terribly apparent at such low levels, it made a huge difference when someone reached into ascendency and beyond.

Miguel knew he should pay more attention to things like that. After all, he had a few spells of his own. Most notably, he’d gained Protection of the Forest, which summoned a giant hand of mud to hold enemies in place and Quiesence, which was a heal-over-time similar to his uncle’s Soothe, though far less powerful.

He also knew that, because of his Green Warden class, he’d gain many more spells going forward. He would never be as versatile as Elijah, but he would be far more self-sufficient than most Warriors. He already was, and he’d only reached level sixty-four.

He resisted the urge to look at his spell list. He’d done so more times than he could count, so he knew everything like the back of his hand. According to Birk, a fighter who didn’t know his spells and when to use them was practically crippled. Ivin had reiterated that by saying, “Many fighters develop bad habits, where they are overwhelmed by the number of abilities at their disposal. Even when it works, this is a mistake. Every class is built the way it is for a reason. The system does not make mistakes. Accept its help and embrace its guidance.”

All of that made perfect sense to him. More than once, he’d felt the urge to lean on a few abilities and ignore others. That was a mistake, and one he’d endeavored to avoid as much as possible.

“You think he’ll let me come?” asked Isaak.

Miguel shrugged. “Maybe? You’re not really being trained by him, so I don’t know.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“Well, I was thinking that maybe I just show up ready to go tomorrow,” the Sorcerer said. “The worst he can say is no, right?”

“I’m sure he can do worse.”

“Yeah, but he won’t. Not for something like that. Trust me – it’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” Miguel said.

After that, he retreated to the other room, where he spent a few minutes with a basin and a washrag to get rid of the worst of the sweat. If he’d had time, he’d visit the baths, but for now, he needed to ensure he was ready to depart. To that end, he gathered his gear, shoving everything into his pack before heading off to gather some rations for the road. He also filled three waterskins with the lifegiving water before returning to his room.

By that point, he felt so tired that he just collapsed onto the bed, intending to rest for a few minutes before visiting the baths. So, it was quite a surprise when, what felt like a split second later, Isaak was shaking him awake.

“I’m up. I’m up.”

“You stink,” his friend said. “You know that, right? Why didn’t you bathe?”

“I fell asleep,” Isaak muttered. “How much time do I have?”

“Uh…fifteen minutes maybe? Hard to say.”

Miguel let out a curse of which his mother definitely would not approve, then quickly dressed before gathering his things and hurrying out the door. As it turned out, they reached their destination only a minute or two before the designated time, which earned them a disapproving look from Ivin.

When Isaak asked to come along, he didn’t object, though. Instead, he said, “You should see it too.”

“Really?”

“Yes. If one of you dies, the other can pass along how serious this is.” ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

“Oh. Umm…”

“Join the rest of the squad. We depart in a few minutes,” Ivin said. After removing their shackles, he gestured to the group of illythiri. They were all battle-hardened veterans, which was both reassuring and intimidating. Miguel kept his shoulders back and his eyes forward as he joined them.

Then, soon enough, they were on the move. The first stop was the teleportation arch, which would take them to one of the cities near the frontier. One by one, the rest of the squad passed through until only Isaak and Miguel were left. Then, with one last look back at Eldrathûn, Miguel followed.