Elijah’s first batch of mead was an unmitigated disaster that tasted cloyingly sweet and a bit rancid. It didn’t take him long to pin the problem on unhealthy fermentation. The fix was thankfully simple, and it only required him to ensure that the next batches were properly fed so that the yeast could properly ferment.

  The second batch was much more difficult to recover, and it tasted extremely sour, with an acrid undertone that Elijah could not explain. Not helping matters was that he had never actually tasted mead, so he wasn’t certain what to expect. However, he knew well enough that vomit-like was not the goal, which necessitated further exploration.

  Fortunately, he had Soul of the Wild on his side, and it was a matter of moments before he realized the issue. Wild bacteria had infected the batch, overwhelming the healthy yeast with airborne organisms.

  The fix to that one was much more comprehensive than the first problem, and it required him to rethink the entire process, with a particular focus on sterilization. That helped, but it did not completely solve the issue. It wasn’t until Elijah had exhausted the possibilities of sterilization that he realized the problem stemmed from another, entirely unrelated issue.

  He wasn’t using enough yeast, which slowed the fermentation process enough to allow other bacteria to grow. That infestation resulted in an overabundance of butyric acid, which was the reason for the vomit-like characteristics.

  To solve the problem, he simply used more yeast.

  He also enlisted the children to help keep it fed, adding yeast in stages. According to the information packet provided by Atticus, doing so was a common way to adjust the alcohol content. Elijah wasn’t so na?ve as to think that all of the old rules applied, so he relied as much on his own senses – particularly Soul of the Wild – to guide the process.

  Finally, he found that time was a bigger factor than he’d first anticipated. The first successful batch was good. Better than he expected, with a smooth, white wine-like taste that he found a bit surprising. However, he quickly found that even a day of aging changed the flavor profile to a significant degree.

  So, after storing the first batch away, he started in on the second, vowing to allow it to age for a while before he sampled it.

  Thankfully, getting it right took most of his focus – largely in the form of Nature’s Design, which he used to guide the bacterial growth. It wasn’t as responsive as when he used it on plants, but with enough effort, he could affect changes. That allowed him to manipulate the yeast in ways that would never have been possible for someone without that all-important ability.

  It also opened his mind to all sorts of interesting possibilities.

  After all, alcohol wasn’t the only viable inebriant. Most drugs traced their roots back to plants, and it didn’t take him long to wonder how his abilities could benefit cultivation of certain crops.

  For his part, Nerthus had only taken a passing interest in the brewing process. He had other things on his mind, and he spent most of his days tending to the grove. Specifically, he’d dedicated hours of each day to bolstering the still-growing pillar trees that would one day support the island’s growing population. They had a long way to go yet, but Nerthus was determined to give those trees the best foundations he could.

  Doing so wasn’t exactly a full-time job, but it still required quite a lot of focus. Elijah was content to let Nerthus provide that attention, mostly because the spryggent was far better at plant manipulation than he was. However, he did spend a little time each day just watching Nerthus work – an informative experience that he knew he shouldn’t take for granted.

  He applied some of those lessons to the yeast. It would take quite a lot of experimentation to determine what characteristics affected the flavor profile the way he wanted, but it was a good distraction while he awaited the return of most of the people he cared most about.

  Elijah also spent a few minutes of each day assuring Hope that her father and Miguel were fine. In the case of his nephew, Elijah was certain that he was still alive. With Ron, he was less sure, though he didn’t tell Hope that. The girl had enough on her emotional plate that she didn’t need to add uncertainty about her father’s fate to the mix.

  She and the other grove members who’d gotten classes showed signs of rapid progression. Access to some of the best materials on Earth helped the Tradesmen, while the environment itself assisted the new Druids. The combatants among them were relatively few, but belonging to the grove gave them access to unique classes that otherwise would not have been possible. As a result, their baseline power was higher than those of similar levels, especially when they were furnished with a perfect environment for cultivation.

  In short, the grove was healthy, both in terms of population and the environment itself. The latter, at least in part because of the high-grade natural treasures Elijah had brought back. He wasn’t blind to the fact that they seemed to work together, each element represented seeming to balance and enhance the others.

  As it turned out, that characteristic was partially responsible for Nerthus’ reservoir plants, which he’d used to fuel Elijah’s many uses of Grove Conduit. The little plants, which surrounded the ancestral tree, were curious looking. They took the form of simple stalks, tipped by a bulbous, fruit-like growth that served to store vast amounts of vitality and ethera.

  When Elijah asked about harvesting them, Nerthus explained, “The energy dissipates very quickly when disconnected. They are only useful in this very specific way.”

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  That was a relief for Elijah. The last thing he wanted was to paint an even bigger target on the grove. It was already home to a wondrous number of potent natural treasures, but those battery-like plants would have been an irresistible resource for anyone who needed an energy source to power machines or arrays. That they wouldn’t last past harvesting was a blessing, and a characteristic Elijah was certain had been intentionally designed by Nerthus.

  In any case, the next two weeks passed both quickly and with interminable slowness. Staying busy took care of the first, while the latter was the unfortunate result of Elijah’s combined impatience and ignorance as to the fate of the expedition into the Red Marsh.

  And then, without warning, he felt their return.

  It happened just after nightfall, when most of the children had retreated to their homes. Nara was tending to the coral reef, while Nerthus was underground cataloguing his seeds. Meanwhile, Elijah had just set the latest cask of mead inside the cave where he’d planted the apple seeds and the geode he’d harvested from the Elemental Maelstrom.

  He immediately dropped the cask, not even bothering to stack it next to the others, and raced out of the cave. In moments, he was winging his way across the strait toward the Conclave Spires. He landed with a hard thud that soon became a sprint past the guards. Thankfully, they didn’t try to stop him. Whether that was due to fear, familiarity, or the lack of an opportunity was a mystery Elijah had no interest in solving. All he cared about were the people he’d felt in the center of the Spires.

  The second he saw them, Elijah knew that they had been through hell. Everyone there – even the dogs – looked thinner than when they’d left. But that was to be expected. There were also dozens of grievous, half-healed injuries, and the vast majority of the new arrivals showed signs of infection.

  What truly got his attention were the missing people.

  “More are coming,” said Ron, who strode forward with a noticeable limp.

  The gathered soldiers, all of whom wore the armor of the Ironshore Legion, looked at him with a mix of fear, relief, and resentment. That hit Elijah harder than he could have expected. The first two were expected, but the third? Did they even know that it hadn’t been his choice to leave them? Were they aware that his hand had been forced? If it had been up to him, he’d have entered the Red Marsh right alongside them.

  And he couldn’t help but think that all of those injured people would have been much better off had he done so.

  “Deaths?” he asked, knowing just how indelicate the question was. He didn’t care.

  “More than any of us expected,” Ron answered.

  “You know what I’m asking.”

  “I do.”

  “Then answer the question,” Elijah told the Healer.

  “Not here,” Ron said.

  Eljiah’s heart jumped into his throat, but he gave his friend a curt nod before leading him away from the Spires. As he did, the gathered soldiers went in the other direction, exiting the compound and presumably making room for the next wave. After all, only a hundred could be teleported at one time, which meant that the space mages had a busy night ahead of them.

  Hopefully.

  Once they were inside the building, Elijah asked his question again, making certain that Ron knew he was asking about his friends and family. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the Legion or the people from Argos, Philadelphia, and Svetogorsk. He did. Just not nearly as much as he cared about Sadie, Carmen, Miguel, and the others with whom he had personal relationships.

  “They all made it,” Ron said. “Not without injury, though. Miguel barely survived. Kurik nearly lost an arm. Isaak’s in a coma from a persistent infection. And we’re all half-starved and exhausted. But we all made it.”

  Elijah let out a sigh of relief, though that only lasted long enough for him to settle on the practical matters.

  “We need to get everyone set up somewhere central. I’ll have grove fruits for those who need it. And I’ll use Blessing of the Grove and Grove Conduit to help,” he said. “Someone needs to talk to Ramik so we can mobilize the –”

  “The Legion already has orders to do that,” Ron stated.

  “Good,” Elijah said. He nodded again, then repeated, “Good.”

  Now that he knew his friends and family were okay, he turned his attention to welcoming them back with open arms. So, the next few hours were occupied by frantic preparations, which included enlisting the highest-level Cooks and Chefs in the city to create a feast. More than that, they erected a series of tents and a mobile infirmary populated by every Healer in the city.

  The combination of the area’s high vitality and dense ethera served to counter some of the infections, though much of that work was accomplished by Elijah’s Mantle of Authority, combined with the effects of Blessing of the Grove. He might not have been as capable a Healer as someone like Ron, but in the realm of purification, he was unmatched. At least on Earth.

  Wave after wave of Legionnaires returned to the city, adding to the hive of activity. Some of the healthier among them bypassed the camp outside the Conclave Compound and went home, presumably eager to see their families. However, it wasn’t long until most of those loved ones came to them, ostensibly to assist in the operation. Every one of them looked toward the Spires with each new arrival, though.

  The camp grew into a city unto itself, with Elijah at the center of it all. Healing. Destroying contaminants infecting the returning soldiers. But just like all the others, he was mostly concerned with the fate of his loved ones.

  Ron, Oscar, and the pack were the first of his companions to arrive, but they were soon joined by Kurik, Carmen, and Colt. Predictably, neither Sadie nor Miguel returned until the very last wave, and when they did, they eschewed the reunion or relaxation in favor of assisting those who needed it.

  It was obvious that they’d both been put through the ringer, though. Sadie was painfully thin, and her armor hung from her like it had been made for a much larger person. Miguel’s armor was completely gone, replaced by dirty and torn clothes. He still had a knife at his belt, but otherwise, he was disarmed.

  Trevor seemed fine, though, and he wasted no time before leaping into the air and racing toward the island, presumably to reunite with his own family.

  Thankfully, none of his companions were missing limbs or seemed to have been permanently injured. But there were still acquaintances like Isaak who’d returned to their own cities rather than coming to Ironshore. So, the jury was still out on their fates, though Ron assured Elijah that the Healers in the Temple of Virtue could take care of the Argos natives like Isaak.

  In any case, Elijah concentrated on the task at hand until he was certain that none of the infections would persist. By then, the day had come and gone, stranding them in the middle of the next night.

  He could have kept going, but it was obvious that everyone who could be treated had been. Now, it was just a matter of rest and recovery. So, as the camp broke apart and everyone embarked on the short journey into Ironshore – and their homes – Elijah finally took the time to reunite with his companions.

  Most specifically, Sadie.

  However, it wasn’t until they returned to the grove and were blessed with the privacy of his treehouse that she broke down and buried her face in his shoulder. Her body trembled with silent sobs.

  “I know,” he said, having gone through enough Primal Realms to recognize the unique blend of relief, guilt, and exhaustion that came with them. He embraced her, hugging her tight as he reassured her, “I know.”

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