Path of Dragons

Book 7: Chapter 48: Around Town

“Do you think I should do it?” Miguel asked, walking next to Nerthus as the spryggent made his rounds. Fat drops of rain fell upon the young man’s shoulders, washing away the sweat of his most recent bout of training. It was cold, but he could ignore that so he could experience the rain’s rejuvenating properties. The spell wasn’t as powerful as Elijah’s, but it was enough to wash away his fatigue and improve his training. “I should do it, right?”

“I do not know why you ask me. I am no expert on mating traditions of adolescent humans,” Nerthus answered. “However, the answer to your question seems simple enough.”

Despite his discomfort with how Nerthus had characterized his interest in Hope, Miguel asked, “What is it?”

“You should do whatever necessary to foster a good relationship with Miss Hope. Ask her out, as you put,” Nerthus answered, letting his gnarled hand hover only an inch above one of the bushes. Ethera swirled, but Miguel couldn’t see any change.

He groaned. “You’re no help at all.”

“Would you like an alternative piece of advice?”

“Yes!”

“Then you should pursue the girl quite ardently. She has a nature attunement, and as such, we should seek to tie her to the grove as quickly as possible. There is no proof that attunements are hereditary, but logic suggests that a child born to two nature-attuned parents and raised in a grove such as this will be quite an asset,” Nerthus explained. “For the grove, of course.”

That was not the answer Miguel wanted to hear, and what’s more, he couldn’t stop his cheeks from reddening in embarrassment at the spryggent’s frank discussion of the subject.

“Alternatively, you could ask your mother. She is a female, correct? Perhaps she could offer proper perspective.”

“I am not asking my mom for dating advice,” Miguel insisted. “That’s just…that’s just wrong.”

He couldn’t articulate why he felt that way, but the thought of approaching his mother with the question of whether or not he should ask Hope out left him with knots in his stomach. He wouldn’t go down that road unless someone forced him to. And even then, he’d resist every step of the way.

The problem was that he didn’t know why he was so nervous. Hope had been friendly enough, and what’s more, he’d faced down deadly threats aplenty. By all rights, the prospect of spending the day with a girl his own age shouldn’t have been nearly as daunting as fighting through dark elf infested forests.

And yet, he could face the latter without a hint of hesitation, but the former prompted a panic response. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been interested in a girl. He’d even had a girlfriend – at least as much as a pair of pre-adolescents could claim such a relationship status – back in Easton. However, what he felt when Hope looked at him was something altogether different. Something special.

“Do you seek any other advice? I must tend to the Frozen Glade.”

Miguel shook his head. “No. Thanks for trying, though.”

“I wish you luck, Warden.”

“A lot of help you were,” Miguel muttered after Nerthus was gone.

“What was that, Warden?” came the tree spirit’s disembodied voice.

“Uh…nothing. Just talking to myself,” Miguel said, finally seeing Nerthus’ face sticking out of the bush. It was so well disguised that even looking right at it wasn’t a guarantee of detection.

“Very well.”

Nerthus disappeared, and this time, Miguel didn’t forget that in the grove, the spryggent was basically omniscient. So was Elijah, but the Druid didn’t rub it in Miguel’s face. Regardless, he was no closer to making a decision than when he’d asked Nerthus for help.

For the next few minutes, he paced back and forth, going over all the ways asking Hope out could go wrong. At worst, she’d be offended, which could affect Elijah and the grove. Or she could just turn him down. Maybe she’d even laugh in his face. A thousand different scenarios, each worse than the last, flitted through his mind until, at last, he pushed them aside.

He was a powerful fighter. One of Ironshore’s saviors. And Hope had acted like she was interested, at least in being friends. If he had the courage to face monsters and dark elves, then he could face the possibility of rejection. So, he made his decision and started toward the dock.

Only then did he realize something extremely important.

He absolutely reeked. And he wasn’t wearing a shirt. In fact, if someone saw him right then, they’d probably assume he was some sort of feral teenager who hadn’t seen civilization for years.

Recognizing that, he turned on his heel and marched back to the treehouse he shared with his mother. Once there, he took advantage of the shower – as well as some of his uncle’s soap – which not only smelled good, but also reinvigorated him in a very different way than any healing he’d ever received. It almost felt like it made him stronger with each application.

More importantly, it did its job as a cleaning solution, and soon enough, he was standing in front of his closet and wondering what he should wear. He didn’t have anything left from his old life back in Easton. Even if he hadn’t ruined all those clothes, there was no way they’d still fit. So, he’d been forced to commission a few outfits from Mari, the Tailor his uncle had suggested. The dwarven woman had outdone herself, creating a half-dozen outfits. Three were meant to be worn beneath his armor, but the others were intended as casual wear.

Fortunately, they were cut almost identically to one another, and the only choice he needed to make was what color shirt he would wear. As it turned out, he chose a deep green top with fancy, silver embroidery around the collar and cuffs. They were enchantments for durability, which was the only reason he’d allowed for them. Otherwise, he would have preferred solid colors.

The pants were dark, brown leather, and the embroidery up their seams was less noticeable.

He dressed quickly, then tugged on his best boots. They were a bit worn around the toes, but he couldn’t do anything about that. Still, he spent a few minutes with a wet rag trying to make sure they were mostly presentable. Once all that was taken care of, he spent another ten minutes trying to tame his hair. Most of the time, he just left it loose, but somehow, that didn’t seem appropriate.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

In the end, he realized that he didn’t have the resources necessary to do much, so he opted with a slightly neater take on his normal hairstyle.

And just like that, he was mostly presentable.

But he hesitated. It wasn’t too late to call it off. He could just go back to training. In fact, he probably should. There was only so much time in the day, and he’d mostly recovered from the morning’s exertions. It was the right thing to do. He could talk to Hope some other time.

Miguel was self-aware enough to recognize the excuses for what they were, though. While his excuses were all true, it wouldn’t really hurt to take a day off. Truth be told, everyone kept telling him not to burn himself out, so taking a little time for himself was probably a good idea.

“I’m doing this,” he said to his reflection. Predictably, the person in the mirror didn’t object.

With that, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and left the treehouse. After he’d descended the stairs, he found Trevor waiting for him. The young stag jumped around a few times, clearly wanting to play. However, Miguel just said, “I’m going into town. You want to come with me?”

Trevor snorted, then flicked his antlers before bounding off into the nearby forest. That answer was clear enough, which meant that Miguel would need to use the rowboat to get to town. It was fine. He could easily manage it. But it would have been much easier if Trevor would have cooperated.

Plus, he suspected that swooping in on a magical stag would be far more impressive, which seemed quite important.

With a shake of his head, Miguel headed down the path to the dock, and along the way, he passively paid attention to his surroundings. The wildlife was just finishing their preparations for winter, and soon, some of them would go into hibernation. Most wouldn’t, but they would definitely slow down. With that on the horizon, an anticipatory flurry of activity suffused the island.

After only a couple of minutes, Miguel reached his destination, then climbed aboard one of the row boats and began the annoying progress of crossing the strait. He very much wished he possessed his uncle’s ability to fly, but he supposed that without Trevor, he’d be stuck on the ground for the time being.

Still, he knew he had it better than most.

Soon enough, he reached the dock and, after tying it off, headed into the city. He didn’t garner nearly as much attention as he had when he’d first arrived, probably because there were a lot more humans around. Most of those had come from Norcastle, but a few other travelers had found their way to Ironshore from places like Argos and from even as far away as Seattle. Those people largely kept to themselves, though Miguel knew that the authorities kept a close eye on them.

After all, the last thing they needed was for a bunch of strangers to cause a fuss. For his part, he just hoped they’d stay away from the island, or else he’d be forced to react, as was his duty.

Gradually, he made his way through the city until, at last, he reached the building where Hope and her father were currently staying. After taking a deep breath, he went inside and made his way to the appropriate apartment. Then, after only a little hesitation, he raised his fist and knocked on the door.

“Coming!” came a familiar and cheerful voice. A moment later, Hope yanked the door open. “Oh, Miguel! I was just thinking about you. Come in.”

“You were thinking of me?”

“Well, of the grove, mostly, but you go hand-in-hand with that, right?” she answered. Miguel stepped inside, and she asked, “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. I was just…uh…you know, I know you’re new around here, and I was thinking that maybe you wanted to see the city,” he offered, noticing a bunch of cloth sitting on one of the nearby counters. “With me. Maybe we can get something to eat, too. And I could show you Druid’s Park. If you want, I mean. If you’re busy, I understand. You’re busy. I get it. I’ll just –”

“No, of course I want to see the city! It’s all so fascinating,” she said. “And everyone here is just so nice. It’s so much better than Forest Hills. Let me get my coat.”

She did just that, grabbing a large, fur-lined cloak. Then, suddenly, she took hold of his hand. It happened so suddenly that Miguel had no idea how to react. Fortunately, Hope was more than happy to take the lead, and she quickly dragged him out into the hall, saying, “I’m so excited. I haven’t had the chance to explore much at all. Just the couple of times I’ve been out to the grove. And I visited the Alchemist, but that doesn’t count. It’s necessary, but it’s not really exploration, you know?”

As she led him outside, Miguel just let her go on about how excited she was to see the city. It was so refreshing, especially after everything he’d been through. There was something about her that marked her as entirely different from all the other people he’d met over the past few years. Part of it was innocence, but there was also an optimism about her that he couldn’t help but appreciate.

After they were outside, he escorted her through the city, pointing out landmarks and shops he recognized. And as time went on, he became more and more comfortable with her. He was still nervous, but she had a way about her that put his anxiety at ease.

Eventually, the pair reached what had become Miguel’s favorite restaurant.

“Is this Mexican food?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Or Tex-Mex, really. My mom says there’s a big difference, but being from Seattle, there weren’t a lot of choices for authentic Mexican food. She tried to cook it a few times, but that is not…well, it’s not a strength, even if she probably thinks it is. I’m almost thankful that the way everything works now means that unless you have a cooking skill, you’re probably not going to make anything worth eating. No more bad enchiladas.”

Hope laughed. “My dad was like that. He used to make his ‘famous brisket’,” she said, using air quotes. “It wasn’t famous, and I question if it was actually brisket. But if I used enough barbecue sauce, it was edible. For a while there, I used to dream about that brisket. Like, things were different back then. Easier. Even with mom gone, the world made sense.”

“I…I lost my mom, too. My other mom, I mean. It was after the world changed, but…but I miss her a lot sometimes. All the time, really, unless I’m busy.”

“Is that why you train so hard?” Hope asked.

He shrugged. “Partly. But it’s also because it’s fun, pushing myself harder and harder. Seeing what I can make of myself, you know? Sometimes, I kind of resent the system. Like, I can spend months training, and then somebody can get a level and make the same gains. I know that doesn’t change how much all my work means, but it does sometimes feel like it cheapens everything. Colt tells me it shouldn’t matter, that we work at our craft not in pursuit of results, but because we love the process. That’s hard, though. Really hard.

He sighed, stopping a few feet from the restaurant’s door. “And now I’ve got so much pressure on me because of the class I chose,” he admitted. “Green Warden. It’s supposed to be a leadership class. More than just a defender of the grove, but like a champion. A general, maybe. I don’t know. But that’s a lot, especially with my uncle being gone so much.”

He looked up to see Hope looking at him with those wide, green eyes of hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just unload on you like that. I don’t get to talk to people much, unless you count Nerthus, and I really don’t. He’s great, but he doesn’t get people. Other than that, my normal conversation partner is Trevor, and he can’t even talk. So…”

“So, I’m a step up, huh?” she asked, giving him a little smirk. She stepped forward and grabbed his hand again. “You don’t have to apologize, you know. I’ll always listen when you need to talk.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Miguel felt some of the tension go out of his shoulders, but at the same time, his stomach twisted into even tighter knots. He leaned forward, closing his eyes. Then, his lips brushed against hers. She leaned into the kiss, and for the briefest of moments, Miguel froze. Then, instinct took over, and his hand found her waist.

Just then, a voice called out, “Hope Nancy Latham.”

She pulled away. “Crap. Be cool,” she murmured. Then, she turned and, in a much louder voice, said, “Daddy! You wouldn’t want to have dinner with us, would you? We were just about to come find you. You know Miguel, right? He’s Elijah’s nephew.”

Miguel glanced toward the man Hope had addressed, and his heart leaped into his throat. He’d met Ron once before – the day after he had arrived in Ironshore – but he’d heard a few stories from Elijah about the Healer. His uncle had described the man as imminently patient, kind, and an all-around great guy.

But in that moment, the glare he directed at Miguel made that description hard to believe.

“Hello, Miguel. So good to meet you,” was his terse response to his daughter’s invitation. “I look forward to getting to know you much, much better.”@@novelbin@@

Given the man’s tone, Miguel wasn’t so sure if those words were true. In fact, it sounded like the complete opposite. His instincts told him to either get ready for a fight or to flee. However, one look at Hope’s, well, hopeful face – and the memory of the kiss that had been interrupted – was all it took to put some steel in Miguel’s spine.

“I look forward to it, too, sir,” Miguel said, giving Ron his best smile. It didn’t seem to work, but that was okay. He’d win the man over one way or another. Hope was worth it.