by Will Wight
As the dragon vanished, and Fury and the Sages withdrew their spirits, Lindon finally drew a deep breath and stumbled to his feet. He was still digesting everything he'd heard, but there was one encouraging fact among them: Xorrus had never mentioned the Blackflame team.
[That's good news!] Dross said. [Maybe she didn't think they were worth her time to kill! Unless she did kill them and just didn't think it was worth mentioning.]
Mercy returned, propping herself up on the staff of twisted black madra she called Suu. She panted as she spoke. “Sorry! I got stuck under the pressure. Did you hear what they said?”
“Sopharanatoth,” Lindon repeated. “Isn't that...”
Mercy nodded. “Yerin and I fought her after you killed her younger sister in Ghostwater. I coudn't tell for myself, because I was too weak at the time, but rumor says she's supposed to be strong.” She caught her breath for a moment and then added, “She might be favored to win.”
A Herald’s granddaughter had a personal grudge against him, and she was one of the strongest in the tournament.
[I wish I could say I was surprised,] Dross said. [Oh, wait, I could lie.]
We'll have to watch her fights, Lindon thought.
[How will that help us when we're avoiding her and letting someone else beat her?]
We want to beat her early. If he could beat her, he could weaken her influence and make it harder for her to get revenge and keep the Blackflame Empire out of dragon hands.
The rainbow light around Fury faded, and the Ninecloud servants in rainbow robes streamed out from the dock to usher the Akura clan inside. Lindon noticed they did their best to keep even their eyes from landing on Fury.
The Ninecloud voice echoed once more, “Now please have a pleasant stay in the Ninecloud Court. If there is any convenience you wish, allow us to serve you. Enjoy our hospitality within your tower for the next fourteen days, and then the tournament begins!”
Chapter 9
Yerin’s master had owned several paintings. He didn’t put them up anywhere, he just pulled them out every once in a while to admire them. Passing over the Ninecloud countryside was like flying through one of those paintings.
The trees had pale white bark and the leaves were of every bright color. Thousand-Mile Clouds were born naturally here, so they floated all around, some as big as islands. Vines and bushes spilled over their edges, or clusters of houses, and winged horses and tiny cloudships filled the skies.
The capital city shone in the distance, glittering like a handful of jewels that spread across the entire horizon.
"Ninecloud City," Eithan said, "one of the largest cities in the world. Capital of the Ninecloud country, home to the Ninecloud Court. In the distant past, they were named by the same culture that named the Blackflame Empire. Among their virtues was a certain philosophy: why use many names when you can recycle the same one?"
Their half-repaired cloudship crawled across the sky to the point that Yerin wished she could get out and push. The jeweled city looked as distant as the sun that rose behind it. "Will we be making it by noon?"
"Noon in three days, maybe," Eithan responded. "If we hope to make it to the opening of the first round in a matter of hours, we have no choice but to trust in the mercy of a greater power."
Naru Saeya chewed at her bottom lip. "I could fly ahead. Unlikely I'd make it by noon, but I could perhaps make it to the city borders by nightfall."
"No point to that," Yerin said bitterly. "Might as well keep limping along. The closer we get, the better our odds that some Herald takes mercy on us and scoops us up."
Still, as the sun rose, Yerin stood at the bow of the ship and stared into the distance. She hoped, she wished, she prayed to the heavens, and she kept her perception wide open. They were competitors in the Uncrowned King Tournament, one of the biggest events in the world. Somebody would come for them.
When the sun burned straight overhead, she knew the heavens were deaf.
One of the crew walked up to Naru Saeya, telling her they needed to set down so that their scripts could restore their cloud. Here, it would be dozens of times faster than back home, but that would make no difference. They might as well take a whole day.
Yerin dropped to the deck, leaning her back against the railing, finally letting her spirits sink to the depths. Here she had lost her chance to measure herself against her master, to compete with Lindon, to see how she rated against the best in the world. And it was all because she couldn't get there in time.
She consoled herself with the knowledge that the tournament stretched over months. At least she would be able to watch the matches.
Somehow that made things worse.
She had tucked her head between her knees and shut off her spiritual perception when someone nudged her shoulder. She stretched out a sword-arm and jabbed it at him, sure it was Eithan. But he caught the limb and said her name in a low voice.
"Yerin. I think you ought to look up."
Annoyed, she glanced up. A shape flew toward their ship, a blur of hazy white madra. She stretched out her senses and felt a blend of ice and sword madra. The feeling of a wintersteel blade.
Yerin shot to her feet, brushed herself off, threw her hair back from her face, and nervously adjusted the sword on her belt.
"If I'm not mistaken, that's your friend," Eithan said.
The shape had now resolved itself into the form of a woman with long white hair, flying through the air after them with no cloud to support her, but Yerin didn't need to see to recognize the madra.
"Is that the Sage of the Frozen Blade?" Saeya asked excitedly.
"Cheers and celebration for us." Yerin inhaled deeply, evening out her breathing.
The last time she had seen the Winter Sage, Yerin's master had delayed their engagement indefinitely in order to take Yerin northwest. On a quest to train her and potentially learn to keep her Blood Shadow under control.
Min Shuei had...not taken it well. Yerin didn't think she'd ever met anyone who wore their emotions as openly as the Sage of the Frozen Blade. Yerin had once seen her cry because a rainstorm was too beautiful.
She would have known immediately that the Sword Sage was dead, so Yerin had felt no pressure to carry the news herself. In fact, she had hoped that she wouldn't see the Sage again for as long as possible. From the first moment that the Sword Sage had taken Yerin back to the Frozen Blade sect, the Winter Sage had never approved of her.
Yerin did not expect that to change.
The Winter Sage flew in at blinding speed, using nothing more than the control over aura given to her by her Archlord-level soulfire. She was not a wind artist, so it was a masterful display of control as she swooped in and lightly landed on the deck.
Her skin was tanned, her hair long and white, though she had the appearance of a young woman. A sword identical to Yerin's rested at her hip; it was the sister to the weapon she had gifted Yerin's master, long ago. Two swords, crafted by the Sage herself.
She landed, and Naru Saeya bowed immediately, but Min Shuei's focus fixed on Yerin. Her eyes burned with fury, and her lips quivered, but she said only, "Yerin."
Yerin nodded her head. "Winter Sage."
The Sage's face transformed into a mask of grief, and she sounded as though she were about to cry. "Why didn't you come back home?"
Yerin's stomach tightened, and she was forcibly reminded why she had never gotten along with the Sage. "I stayed with your sect for a whisker more than half a year. That's a long jump away from a home."
"You could have at least told me what happened yourself."
"I'd bet my soul against a rat's tail that you knew as soon as I did," Yerin said. "Didn't get up from your chair to avenge him, did you?"
The Sage staggered as though Yerin had struck her in the heart with an arrow. Yerin's master had always argued that Sages should go out and use their powers for the good of as many people as possible, but it would take an act of the heavens to dislodge the Sage of the Frozen Blade from her sect.
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"If you knew..." The Sage’s voice shook. "If I traveled there to avenge him, I would be as vulnerable as he was. Vengeance is a poor reason to allow myself to be killed by ignorant barbarians. And what good would it do? Would slaughtering Jades and Irons bring him back?"
A sudden surge of guilt caught Yerin off-guard. She shouldn't have used vengeance to provoke the Sage. Not only was it not fair, but it wasn't as though Yerin had gone out of her way to get revenge. She could have returned to Sacred Valley and carved through the Heaven's Glory school at any time, but she knew herself that it would accomplish nothing.
But something the Sage said caught her interest. Was it Sacred Valley itself that had opened the Sword Sage to the attacks of mere Jades? Yerin had always assumed it was the poison. But if there was something about the place...
Seeing that Yerin had not responded, the Winter Sage drew in a sharp breath, looking to Eithan and Saeya. "I'm here to bring you back, but the introduction has already begun. If you don't want to be disqualified, we should hurry."
Yerin shook herself as Naru Saeya thanked the sage for her assistance. The Winter Sage's appearance had knocked Yerin off balance, but this wasn't time to get lost in her own head. She had fights to win.
Wind aura, guided by the Sage, swept up both Eithan and Saeya. The Naru clanswoman spread her wings and reveled in the sensation, while Eithan stood, smiling gently as though he stood on solid ground.
Yerin bowed at the waist. "Apologies," she said to the Sage. She sounded too much like Lindon for her taste, but she pushed on. "I pushed too hard. Please bring me along so that I can bring honor to my master's memory."
A single tear ran down the woman's tan cheek. She whispered, "I hope you can."
I hope so too, Yerin thought.
~~~
Information requested: Luminous Queen Sha Miara, Monarch of the Ninecloud Court
Beginning report…
Path: Celestial Radiance. Uses royal madra to disrupt, control, and manipulate the madra of others. Has no effect on vital aura, and therefore no Ruler techniques, so a Celestial Radiance artist’s ability to influence the physical world is largely limited to their ability with soulfire.
Royal madra, the rainbow-colored signature of the Ninecloud Court, is in fact a spiritual mutation of pure madra that occurred long ago in the Sha bloodline. From childhood, they can control the spirits of others, and over the centuries they have refined this power into a set of techniques and polished these techniques to perfection. Using their innately powerful madra, they solidified control over their nation and their continent, naming both after their sigil: a nine-colored cloud.
One of their most closely guarded techniques is known as Heaven’s Wish. Once only, a practitioner can pass on their spirit to another. Far more thorough than the adoption of a Remnant, this technique allows for the near-total transfer of power and skill to an heir, though some knowledge is still lost.
Miara’s mother, Sha Leiala, ruled over the Ninecloud people for two hundred years. Only three years prior to the eighteenth Uncrowned King tournament, she did battle with a host of powerful plague-spirits born beneath a disaster area in her country. Though she was victorious, her lifeline was damaged, and she was forced to pass on her inheritance years earlier than she planned.
Thus did Sha Miara, a girl of only twelve, inherit a Monarch’s power.
The queen’s death was a secret known only to a few, but still that secret leaked to rebellious elements within the Ninecloud Court. They sent a fleet of cloudships to the capital city, intending a coup. When they were struck down by the full might of a Monarch, they determined that Leiala’s death had been nothing more than a false rumor.
The Sha family encouraged that belief, and the illusion of Sha Leiala still makes regular appearances all over the nation. As far as the citizens know, their queen is healthy and strong.
By royal decree, Sha Miara’s name and her true identity as the Luminous Queen are known only to the Sha family, their direct servants, and the other Monarchs. She remains isolated in her palace, surrounded by the same faces every day.
But she is still only fifteen years old, and isolation is boring.
Suggested topic: The destiny of Sha Miara. Continue?
Denied, report complete.
~~~
Lindon's room in the Ninecloud Court gave him the taste of a Monarch’s hospitality. Trays of fruits lined the walls, complex constructs attended to his every need, and the bed hypnotically lulled him to sleep. A flock of birds lived in the rafters, filling his day with their sweet song. There was even a bubbling spring in the center of the room.
He hated it.
For two weeks, he’d been unable to leave. All of his questions about the Blackflame team were answered with “They have not yet arrived.” His room was connected to Mercy's and Pride's, but they knew no more than he did.
When the day of the tournament arrived, a team of servants spent an hour adjusting Lindon's Akura uniform, making sure that the script on the hem glowed bright violet, brushing the black cloth, straightening the high collar. He had never worn clothes so fine in his life.
Only once he and Pride and Mercy were all prepared did the floating constructs of the Ninecloud Court—which looked something like glistening red crabs floating around on rainbow clouds—instruct them to gather behind the door in Mercy's room. They would be picked up shortly.
When the door finally slid open, revealing Charity standing there in sacred arts robes not unlike their own, Lindon spoke first.
“Pardon, but has there been any news of the Blackflame team?”
He had expected to be cut off, or for Charity to brush his concern away. Instead, she let a look of sympathy cross her face.
“I'm sorry,” she said, and his heart froze. “We've heard nothing. They have not yet crossed the border into Ninecloud. The Queen has not yet arrived, so we cannot petition her to find them, but the gold dragons have not claimed responsibility. We must assume that they have been delayed and will not arrive on time.”
Delayed, Lindon thought numbly.
[Delayed isn't bad!] Dross encouraged him. [Delayed could mean anything. Maybe they're lost!]
“Please,” he begged the Sage. “You brought me here. Can’t you find them?”
Charity sighed. “I have limits to my skill and my power. When I set up the gates to the Night Wheel Valley for your Empire, I had my grandmother’s assistance. A Monarch could find them and bring them here easily, and perhaps another Sage. As for me…I have owls out searching. I am sorry.”
Clutching Suu in one hand, Mercy asked a few more questions. She looked as panicked as Lindon was.
But he didn't hear the answers. When Charity walked away down the hall, Pride striding after her, Lindon followed like a puppet.
His Remnant arm began to twitch with the disorder in his spirit. He wanted to do something, to start looking for them. Or to avenge them.
After only a few minutes of walking, Charity ushered them into a plain gray room with tables, benches, shelves, and cabinets lining the walls.
“This is your team preparation room,” Charity said. “It is located inside the grand arena itself. Here you will make yourself ready for each round and leave behind any weapons that are not permitted in the round. No one can access this place except our team or authorized representatives, so they will remain safe.”
Pride pulled a void key from around his neck and began unloading his belongings into a cabinet. Lindon stood there, running over questions in his mind, and Mercy watched him.
Charity met his eyes then reached up with two fingers. Madra of shadow and dreams played around her fingers, and Lindon jerked his head back. Dross, however, said [Oooh, I wonder what this is,] and put up no defense whatsoever.
The Sage's fingers tapped Lindon's temples.
His doubts, fears, and worries washed away as though he'd been cleansed. He took a deep breath, like a weight had been lifted from his chest.
What was he worrie
d about? His worry couldn't make things any better. He had a task to do, and there was no point distracting himself before he had concrete information. Any number of things could have happened to the Blackflame team, so why speculate?
Lindon gave a shallow bow to the Sage. “Gratitude.”
“Don't thank me,” Charity said. “It's only a temporary mental block. No matter what happens, I need you to give this round your full attention. But when the Monarch finds them...I will allow you to react however you need to.”
Lindon nodded. That seemed fair. Following the lead of the others, he took off his void key and his halfsilver badge and placed them into a cabinet. Shame about the void key; it contained enough weapons to make any fight much easier.
Charity turned to Mercy. “There will be no sacred instruments allowed in this round.”
Mercy was still watching Lindon. “Aunt Charity, that can't be...”
“It's necessary. Now prepare yourself.”
Slowly, Mercy leaned Suu against a wall, but Lindon had already moved to stand next to Pride at the end of the room. A scripted section of stone would obviously slide up when their preparations had been completed.
Briefly, he wished he was standing side-by-side with Yerin and Eithan instead of the Akura team. But wishes weren't productive, so he merely acknowledged the desire and refocused.
“If you don't even make it past the first round,” Pride said, “you will answer to me.”
Lindon was relieved. “Really? Thank you. I was afraid I'd have to answer to your mother.”
Pride glared at him.
[Whatever Charity did to you, I'm going to have to learn that trick. I like you much better like this.]
The script on the door shone as Mercy joined them, and Charity took a step back.
“I will be watching your progress on the Akura viewing platform. Do our family proud.”