“Fried squash?” Elijah asked, gazing at the meal with no small degree of appreciation. “And fried chicken? Mashed potatoes? Wow. Just wow. Tell me again why we didn’t get married?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, saying, “Because we were barely more than children.”

“Yeah. I know. Other than that, though.”

“You disappeared and ran away to Hawaii to play with fish.”

“Oh. Right. Not my best decision,” Elijah said with a grin. He knew Lucy didn’t take him seriously. If anyone knew his odd sense of humor, it was her. “I should’ve put a ring on it. Is that what the kids say these days? I’m over thirty now, so I’m way out of touch.”

She laughed. “You were always out of touch. And nobody’s said that for two decades,” she said, grabbing the spoon and serving herself a helping of squash. “But no. Not fried chicken.”

“What is it, then?” Elijah asked, helping himself. It certainly looked like fried chicken.

“We call them sand monitors,” Lucy said. “They taste a bit like chicken, especially fried by a decent Cook. But more importantly, they’re everywhere out in the desert.”

“Huh. I didn’t see any. I did eat a snake the other day, though.”

“How in the world did you not see any sand monitors? They’re incredibly aggressive and very territorial. And like I said – they’re everywhere in the desert.”

Elijah took a bite. It did taste a bit like chicken, though with a bit more tang to it. It was also slightly fattier. Whatever the case, it tasted fine, so he didn’t think twice about digging in. As he chewed, he said, “Most animals leave me alone.” He swallowed, then continued, “Monsters are different, though. And how Guardians react is based on how much of a threat you are to their treasure. I think. I’m still trying to figure out how all of it works, honestly.”

“Is it your class?”

“My archetype, I think. I’m pretty close to nature.”

“Interesting,” she said. “Do you think you can stay for a couple of days? I can set up a greenhouse where we can test your spell out. Maybe it won’t affect the balance too much. And there’s a chance I can figure out how it works and –”

“I’ve already told you. I need to find Alyssa. I’ve already gotten distracted way too many times,” he said. “But once I find them and make sure they’re safe, sure. I’ll come back and you can have me for however long you want me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Was that innuendo?”

“Do you want it to be?” he asked.

“You drop into town and you immediately want to jump into bed?” she asked. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“The kind who can use a friend?” Elijah guessed. He hadn’t missed the tension in her eyes. The tightness in her shoulders. “Look – I’m going to be serious for a second. If you need a friend, I’m here. I’ll listen. I’ll be a shoulder for you to cry on. You know that, right? I might joke about the other thing, but at the end of the day, we’re friends. There’s too much history here for anything else.”

“Elijah Hart. Being serious. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“I can be serious when I need to be,” he said. Before the world had changed – or really, before his cancer diagnosis – that was probably a lie. But things were different now. He’d learned to be the person he needed to be when necessary.

“I guess everyone’s changed, huh.”

“I guess so,” Elijah agreed. “So? You want to talk?”

And she did. As they shared a meal, Elijah listened to Lucy’s story. It wasn’t really much different from so many he’d already heard in other places, but it hit harder when it was someone he’d grown up with. Someone he’d once loved, at least as much as an awkward teenager with no life experience could love anyone.

In the end, nothing happened except for two friends catching up. Perhaps they could take things further when they met again.

In any case, Elijah went to bed alone, and despite the comfortable accommodations of Lucy’s guest bedroom, he slept poorly. The next morning, Elijah broke his fast with a couple of pears grown in Lucy’s greenhouse, then set out for the capital. He didn’t like how things had ended between him and Isaiah, so he wanted to mend that relationship.

Soon after arriving at the large building, which looked almost the same as it had before Earth was touched by the World Tree. Certainly, the grounds were no longer green, and the fountain was dry, but the rest looked undamaged. At least that was the case with the domed Legislative Building. However, most of the structures on the rest of the campus had been destroyed, and their rubble cleared away.

The air above the building was abuzz with drones. Most looked just like the one Elijah had seen just outside the city, but there were a few much larger machines that emitted far stronger ethereal signatures. Elijah guessed they were weaponized in some way – a frightening proposition, but one he felt he could combat fairly easily.

One cast of Storm’s Fury could bring them down, and if he used Calamity, they’d all fall.

Regardless, he wasn’t there to pick a fight. Instead, he wanted to meet the man in charge, so he pushed forward, and after climbing the stairs, entered the building. There, he found himself facing a trio of guards.

“Hey, fellas. Is the boss in?” he asked with a little wave.

“And who are you?”

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“A friend?” Elijah replied. “No? I guess Isaiah doesn’t have a lot of those, right? No, probably not. Either way, he’ll want to see me.”

“What is your name?”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry. I just figured all of you had those weird identification skills. My name is Elijah. Tell him I want to see him. He’ll know what it means.”

“Uh…”

“Yeah. That probably doesn’t really fit there. But I always wanted to say it, you know? Like I know an inside joke. I don’t, though. Barely know the guy. But he really will want to see me.”

That seemed to confuse two of the three guards, but the other followed just fine. His radio crackled, and he explained the situation. Someone on the other side told him to escort Elijah inside.

“See? Told you,” Elijah gloated as he followed the man into the building. As he did, he was impressed by the appearance of so much activity. The place was a hive of productivity, though Elijah couldn’t help but wonder how many of them were actually busy, as opposed to simply appearing to be so. From his experience, a government building was probably host to more of the latter than the former.

In any event, Elijah soon found himself being led into an office. Inside was a large desk, but the office was otherwise unadorned, save for a couple of landscape paintings and a huge map on the wall. The latter was even more detailed than one he’d gotten from Lucy. Behind the desk was Isaiah, who was staring at a computer screen.

“You can leave him here,” the man said.

The guard saluted, then turned on his heel and strode away. Elijah started to speak, but Isaiah held up a single finger, asking him to wait. He typed for a few more moments, then let out a tired sigh before closing the laptop.

Looking up, he asked, “What can I do for you, Mr. Hart?”

“I wanted to let you know that I’m going to help you,” Elijah stated without preamble. “I don’t know the whole situation here, but from what I’ve seen, those people up on Mercer Mesa are the bad guys. If it was any other commodity, I probably wouldn’t care, but it’s water. People are dying because of their greed. I won’t stand aside and let that continue.”

“I see. What changed your mind?”

“Mostly a whim,” Elijah said. “But also, I’m not a complete dick. That said, I can’t help you right now. I know you have a responsibility to your people, and I respect that. But I have family out there. I can’t afford to get distracted here. If it came down to it, I’d let everyone in Seattle die if it was them or my family. They’re all I have left.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“I do. We’ve all lost people, Mr. Hart. I can respect a man who wants to protect his family.”

“But you don’t like it,” Elijah guessed.

“It doesn’t matter what I like,” Isaiah stated. “You know good and well that I can’t make you help me. So, I have no choice but to take whatever assistance you are willing to give. I just hope it doesn’t come too late. This city is a powder keg. It will explode. The only questions are when and who will survive the conflict. You should know that your friend will be one of the first targets. Anyone who wants to rule this city will need to control the Gardener.”

“That crossed my mind.”

“And yet, you still intend to leave.”

“I do.”

Isaiah sighed, then reached into one of his desk drawers. He placed an item on the desk, then slid it forward.

“Is that a walkie talkie?” Elijah asked.

“A radio powered by ethera,” Isaiah answered. “It’s good within a thousand miles of Seattle. It would go a long way toward engendering trust if you took this radio with you. And perhaps, when our time of need arises, you will respond to our call.”

“I won’t make any promises. I want to help, but…”

“We’ve already established your priorities. I would still like for you to take the radio.”

Elijah shrugged. “Fine,” he said, looking forward to examining the machine. Perhaps he could take it back to Ironshore and let some of the Tradesmen inspect it. He retrieved the item, then shoved it in his satchel. “I’m heading toward Easton. Hopefully, I’ll find my family there, then come back this way.”

“I understand. Good luck.”

After that, Elijah saw no reason to stick around. So, he turned and left the office, looking forward to continuing what he hoped would turn out to be the last leg of his journey.

* * *

With mixed emotions gripping his heart, Isaiah watched the strange man leave his office. On the one hand Elijah Hart was clearly trouble. He displayed issues with authority, a flippant attitude, and an unpredictable nature. However, he was just as obviously powerful. He could face down some of the most powerful warriors in the city and feel no fear.

As was appropriate for someone in the top five most powerful people in the world. But even that designation didn’t tell the whole story. The ladder only measured levels. Isaiah knew there was far more to a person’s power than the number in their status. Cultivation and class were just as important, and in those realms, Elijah Hart was head and shoulders above anyone Isaiah had ever seen.

He opened his laptop, studying the readout on the screen. It was the result of his drone’s scan, and it laid bare Hart’s entire status. Including his advanced progression on the path of cultivation. More, though, it told him how rare the man’s class was. And on Earth, it was unique, which meant that it was probably powerful.

The combination of his levels, cultivation, and class meant that Elijah Hart was incredibly dangerous, which was why Isaiah wanted the man on his side.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. The world was so different. It felt like only yesterday that he’d been separated from the Air Force, where he’d served as a drone pilot. Having done his duty, he’d fully intended to serve his community as well. That was how his political career had started, and, to his surprise, his success had garnered quite a lot of attention from national power brokers. They’d been grooming him for a congressional run when the world had changed.

After that, he’d taken the Scholar archetype, thinking he could leverage his brain to help people survive. Initially, that had seemed like a mistake. The new world was not a peaceful one, and as a result, he was at a disadvantage. Still, his military training served him well, and he managed to survive.

Many had not.

Then, everything had changed when he received his class, Technomancer. According to all the guides he’d seen, it was a rare class, and a hybrid between three archetypes. Scholar, for the knowledge he’d need. Tradesman, to put that knowledge into action. And Sorcerer, for ethereal control.

It allowed him to integrate ethera into drones – or other machine-based golems – giving him the ability to enforce order on Seattle. But there was resistance, and he was still fighting to get everything under control.

With another sigh, he leaned forward, massaging his thigh. That was the other benefit of his class. It had given him the tools to replace his normal prosthetic with something far more durable, powerful, and useful. Unless he pulled the hem of his pants up, most people couldn’t even tell that it wasn’t flesh and bone.

As miraculous as his creation was, it still ached, though.

He’d lost his leg in a car accident during his time in the Air Force. It was funny, actually. He’d chosen the Air Force at least in part because of how often he’d seen soldiers and marines coming back from the front lines missing limbs. He didn’t want to experience that, so he’d gone the safe route. And then, he’d gotten into a normal car accident that had ended with his leg needing to be amputated.

But at least he’d managed to survive, and there were quite a few other people who wouldn’t have without his efforts. That was gratifying, even if he knew the entire city was poised on the brink. Unless something changed soon, things were going to descend into anarchy, and he felt that Hart represented the only real chance to avoid that fate.

For the time being, though, Isaiah intended to keep doing his best. In his experience, the answer to any problem was hard work. So, with that in mind, he called his assistant in and said, “Set up a meeting with Rogers. We need to continue the dialogue.”

“Yes, sir,” the man – boy, really – said.

And just like that, Isaiah pushed Hart from his mind and focused on doing his job.