by Will Wight
The construct—which had emerged from a shining script in the stone of the ceiling like a suddenly appearing weed—shrank back into the rock. The script faded away.
Yerin rose to her feet, brushing dust from her knees. “More orders. Bleed me dry if I have anything better to do.”
~~~
Naru Gwei surveyed Lindon and the others lined up before him. His burn scar pulled one eye into a wince, and his limp gray hair hung loose around him. He was unshaven, and looked as always like he hadn't slept for a week.
“The Blackflame Empire is giving up on the tournament.”
Lindon started to protest, but Naru Gwei held up one battered gauntlet for silence. “We're not formally withdrawing our candidacy. It's up to the Sage, whatever we say, and she might still pick one of us. But there’s nothing we can do in three days that will improve our chances.”
“At least Yerin and I could go back in,” Lindon said. “You’ve been sending scouts, and they’ve returned. Only a day or two inside, and maybe you'd have two new Underlords.”
Naru Gwei reached up to the map that hung on his wall, pulling it down and spreading it over his desk in one motion. It was a map of the Blackflame Empire.
To the east, his finger traced the Wasteland, a largely blank stretch of empty paper that looked like desert. “The Wasteland. Their sacred artists are the farthest thing from unified, but they're a thin fence against the dragons even further east. After the Dreadgod attack, we've lost contact with much of our territory against that border. The Wastelanders could be moving in even now, claiming whatever territory they want, and who's to stop them?
“Beyond them are the dragons,” he said, gesturing beyond the scope of the map. “They stay away because of a few real monsters in the Wasteland, and out of respect for the Akura family.” He jerked his chin at Mercy. “Our favor with your family tells the dragons how important we are. If you all like us, then you'll respond quick. If you don't, then maybe you'll look the other way while they push through the Wasteland and snap up a few villages.”
He turned his attention to the south, which was mostly covered by trees. “The jungle only stays peaceful because of constant Skysworn supervision. I've left a few teams down there, but most of us are here over the capital. The longer we stay here, the more towns and sects and schools and villages will be swallowed up by the jungle.
“To the north is the Trackless Sea, the widest ocean we know. Covers half the world, by our maps. The Kotai clan mans this wall—” He traced a long shape down the beach. “—which keeps the ocean tribes out. Those enemies are glad to know that we're focused somewhere else. They're hungry for the land.”
Naru Gwei kept talking, but Lindon focused on the west. He saw the Desolate Wilds, marked as a black smudge, and recognized a range of mountains by the coast. Closer to the western sea than he'd ever realized.
It was unnamed. The map had it listed as “Restricted Territory—Dangerous and Forbidden,” next to the seal of the Akura family: one big star and two smaller stars over a mountain range.
That's where Sacred Valley was.
His eyes moved across the Wilds to Serpent's Grave. Then to the capital, where he was now. He had skipped across dozens of regions, towns, notes and names scribbled on the paper. Names he'd never heard of, places he'd only passed over without thinking.
He was a long way from home.
Naru Gwei stared over the map, his usual weariness taking on a melancholy tone. “Empires are fragile things. They are prone to fall.”
Lindon's eyes were locked onto Sacred Valley as he processed. “Apologies, but why does the tournament matter so much to the Empire?”
“Contact with the other nations and major factions of the world is more valuable than you think,” the Skysworn Captain said, feeding a long leaf between his teeth. “Usually, we only hear from our neighbors on this continent. The Akura family all the way to the south, their other nearby vassal kingdoms, like the Seishen Kingdom. Our enemies, the dragons, who own the east. We can contact the Arelius homeland every ten years, and there are a few other connection points.” He sighed. “Establishing trade or any relationship is worth a great price. And if we can distinguish ourselves in front of the world, we can show them that we're strong enough to defend ourselves.”
He looked to Mercy again. “Not to mention that your family promised us a hundred million high-grade scales for each qualified competitor we provide, and further gifts if they give a good performance in the tournament. If the dice had fallen right, we might have gained ourselves glory we haven't seen for hundreds of years.”
Naru Gwei straightened up from the map, looking back at them. “Now, it's too late. Rather than ‘giving up,’ it’s more accurate to say we’re finally admitting our loss. Got more Underlords than we lost, and that will be good for security.”
Yerin had withdrawn her Goldsigns, but the sword-arms started peeking out of her back again, which meant she was distracted. “You're not spewing at the mouth for no reason. What do you want out of us?”
He locked eyes with the three of them in turn. “I want to know if you have any input on the movement of the Skysworn.”
Lindon wondered if there was some hidden meaning in the words, or if Naru Gwei was really asking them for advice.
“The Empire is sending everyone home from the capital, that's decided,” the Captain said. “Too late to do anything else. If the Sage picks one among us to fight for her, that’s good enough for us. But the Skysworn can move independently, so I wanted to know if you had any thoughts about our withdrawal or our strategy going forward.”
He watched their faces and grumbled around the leaf in his mouth. “I asked all my Truegolds this same question. And she's the only Akura in the Empire, so maybe she knows something worth hearing.”
Mercy frowned at him, pinching her chin as though deep in thought, but Lindon was still staring at the map. They had three days left, and the Seishen Kingdom had used their last two months to mint Underlords. They would have been desperately improving their power, showing off to the Sage.
He had to save Yerin...but he wanted to win. Was there a way to do both? To seize and hold a piece of the Night Wheel Valley, increasing her chances of advancement, and also show they were the best the vassals of the Akura family had to offer?
His first thought was assassination. If they killed Kiro and Meira, that would be two of the Kingdom's star Underlords out of the running. But not only did they have an Overlord defending them, Lindon also wasn't happy about assassination being his first answer. And the Sage of the Silver Heart had restricted bloodshed.
Then he remembered something he couldn't believe he'd forgotten.
He turned on the spot and seized Mercy.
Her purple eyes widened.
Chapter 15
Though there were sixteen Underlords in the Empire now, only eleven of them could be gathered on short notice, including Naru Gwei. They were squeezed around one side of a table in one of the larger Skysworn meeting rooms, rubbing shoulders as they faced the end of the room.
The Emperor was seated in front of them, in as close to a throne as the Skysworn had been able to dig out from storage. He was dressed plainly for an emperor; his iridescent wings were nowhere to be seen, withdrawn back into his spirit, and he wore sapphire robes wrapped around with dragons. A shimmering cap on his head was his only headdress, and his bearded face was neatly trimmed. Lindon could only see the back of him, but Naru Huan still radiated a heroic air; maybe that was Lindon's spirit warning him against the only Overlord in the room.
The rest of the room was jammed with Truegolds.
They stood packed in behind the Underlords, many of them in Skysworn armor. Lindon hadn't worn his, so now he was shoved between the shoulder pads of an armored woman and Yerin's Goldsigns, which she had kept out in order to keep people from crowding her.
They had organized themselves by combat rank in order to save room, so Lindon and Yerin found themselves close to the front. O
nly a few white-haired men and women stood in front of him, and he could see over their heads.
At the very end of the room, speaking to all of them including the Emperor himself, was Akura Mercy. She craned her neck to look to the back.
“It seems like we're all here. Can we begin?” She spoke as brightly as ever, and Lindon was surprised that she was so comfortable addressing everyone. But then, to her, the Emperor of the Blackflame Empire was one of her family's servants.
“You may,” Naru Huan said.
“Our family regularly harvests the Night Wheel Valley,” Mercy said. “We keep the excess natural treasures in a vault, which we use periodically for training or Soulsmithing. But natural treasures can lose their power over long travel, so that vault is located inside the valley itself.”
There was a stir in the room, and some of the Underlords muttered to each other. Naru Saeya, the Emperor's sister, perked up in her seat. The peacock feathers over one ear bristled.
“Thank you for bringing this to us,” Saeya said, “but why now? The secrets of your family should be shared lightly, but if you were going to tell us, then why not when we could reach them?”
Mercy smiled. “Now, Akura Charity owes me a favor. She owns the Night Wheel Valley, and the vault itself. She might not give me the treasures, but if I took them, she would look the other way. It would be a nice consolation prize for being forced to leave.”
“Too shaky,” said a large, bearded man with a hammer on either hip. The stormcloud hanging over his head reminded Lindon of Renfei’s Path of the Cloud Hammer. “No offense to you, Akura, but we cannot rob a Sage based on your judgment of a relative's possible actions. What if you are wrong and she kills us all?”
“Oh, she knows who is responsible,” Mercy said, waving a hand. “The punishment would fall on me, not you.”
She had treated his concern too lightly, Lindon could feel it in the room. They didn't believe her, thought she wasn't taking the situation seriously. It didn't help that she lurched in place a moment later, steadying herself against the wall.
“I think we can do it,” Saeya said, leaning forward. “All at once. Scouts show that the Kingdom isn't holding our portal tightly. They're concentrated on the center of the Valley, where the aura is thickest. We punch through, everything we've got, and seize the vault. Where is it?”
“Even better news!” Mercy said. “It's slightly closer to us! Just outside the southern walls of the house.”
The room went silent as they all pictured the imposing Akura nightmare fortress that had taken over an entire mountain.
Naru Saeya leaned back.
But her older brother spoke up. “This could be done,” the Emperor said. “They have only one Overlord, and he cannot come alone. It will take them time to gather their forces. At our maximum speed, we could be in and out in two hours. Long before they can gather enough strength to challenge us.”
He laced his fingers together. “However, we will not act without the Sage's permission. With her mediation, even if we fail, we will only be sent home in shame rather than annihilated. And only with her approval can we be sure we will not face her wrath, even in victory.”
Mercy shrugged. “Then ask her.”
Her eyes rose up to the corner of the room.
Everyone in the room turned. There, in the high ceilings, waited a silver-and-purple owl that none of them had seen.
Naru Huan stood and bowed. “The Emperor of the Blackflame Empire greets the Sage of the Silver Heart,” he said.
Seeing the Emperor doing so, everyone else in the room except for Mercy stood and bowed as well.
“This is how she monitors the battlefield,” Mercy said. “She has seen and heard everything. If she allows us to move forward, then she approves.”
The owl gave a soft rustle, like wind through leaves.
The gray-skinned Kotai Underlord, an old man with a stone gauntlet for a hand, snorted. “How could we be sure this is really—”
The owl turned its eyes on him. There was a flare of dream aura, tightly concentrated, and the Underlord's eyes went out of focus for a second.
When his consciousness returned, he trembled, pressing one giant fist against one normal-sized one and bowing deeply. “I apologize for questioning the Sage.”
There were a number of questions directed at Mercy, which she answered as she could, but the tone of the room had shifted. The Underlords were gathering themselves. Lindon could feel their spirit slowly turning. None of them had liked retreating and waiting around either, and now they were restless for the chance to return to battle.
Finally, Naru Saeya slapped a hand down on the table and stood up. “What time do we leave?”
~~~
All the Lords, Ladies, and high-ranking Truegolds of the Seishen Kingdom had been gathered on top of their castle in the Night Wheel Valley. The roof had been turned into a celebration banquet, and even the gloom of the Valley was dispersed by shining scripts, lights, music, and soaring bird-Remnants of every color.
Seishen Daji, Kiro’s little brother, stood on a platform of Forged madra that lifted him above all the others. He wore traditional robes of Seishen royalty, which were plated to give the impression of armor, and a silver crown gleamed on his head. He looked out over the crowd with a triumphant, arrogant expression.
And he did nothing to restrict his spirit, which pulsed with the power of a newly minted Underlord.
The other important members of the Seishen Kingdom were taking turns standing up to lavish the second prince with praise, whereupon he would respond with either false humility or praise in return. With every word, Daji puffed up further, shooting the occasional glance at his father. King Dakata stood to the side of his son’s stage, the very picture of pride.
Kiro leaned against the wall, out of the center of attention, watching.
A hand gently brushed his back. “Are you not feeling well?” Meira asked, a hint of panic in her eyes. She set aside the bowl of food in her right hand, beginning to conjure life madra.
“I’ve been fine for weeks,” Kiro assured her. She had healed the stab wound in his back instantly, and the Kingdom healers had given him far more medicine than he could possibly have needed.
He had passed out during the healing process, and later found that his father had been furious. Meira might have been executed, if she hadn’t been even more distraught than King Dakata himself. He had been forced to personally restrain her to keep her from diving through the Blackflame Empire portal and attacking all on her own.
Instead of picking her bowl back up, Meira chewed on her thumbnail, her gaze growing distant and empty. “We could demand her as our prize,” she said. “The Sage would give us one sword artist.”
“We won’t see her again,” Kiro assured her. As far as he was concerned, that was a good thing. The young woman with the sword and blood techniques scared him as much as Lindon did. He had been skeptical of his father’s plan to drive the Blackflame Empire away, but if it had prevented those two from becoming Underlords, then it had been worthwhile.
Meira finally picked her food back up and started eating, tearing into her food as though it had personally offended her. She was disappointed that they wouldn’t get a chance for revenge; she and Daji were alike in certain ways.
Suddenly, the colorful lights and the music dimmed, as though the shadows of the Night Wheel Valley had crept inwards.
The woman who had been giving a speech about Daji froze, her drink raised. Conversation died, and Kiro couldn’t tell if it had happened naturally, or if the shadow was dampening sound.
King Dakata stepped forward, unleashing the spirit of an Overlord, but the shadows deepened in front of him. They melted together and rose into a lump of darkness.
Akura Charity stepped out of the dark, face-to-face with the Seishen King.
Hurriedly, Kiro and everyone else there swept into a bow. Charity looked Dakata up and down, then turned her attention to Daji. He had bowed only reluctantly, with
a clearly resentful look on his face.
The Sage of the Silver Heart raised her delicate hands in front of her and, after a long pause, clapped exactly three times. The sounds echoed through the silence.
“Congratulations to the Seishen Kingdom,” Charity said. “It seems you have benefited greatly from my garden.”
King Dakata had already withdrawn his spirit, controlling his madra. He recovered quickly from his surprise, laughing loudly. “Of course, of course! How could any land of the Sage’s be less than extraordinary? There were a few pests, but not to worry—we drove them out for you.”
He laughed even louder at that. A handful of brave souls joined him.
Charity looked out over the crowd. “Hm. Bold of you, to drive them out as you did. You pushed at the edges of my command for restraint.”
Her words were completely calm, but Kiro thought his father was about to start sweating nervously.
“We were very careful not to do anything that might weaken fellow servants of the Akura clan,” King Dakata assured her. It was strange to see him taking such a submissive stance, like seeing a tiger acting like a lapdog. “But we knew bold action was necessary to grasp the victory.”
Charity’s eyebrows raised. “Victory?”
For a long moment, silence reigned.
Dakata laughed awkwardly. “Of course. We have produced many Underlords since then. Surely more than the Blackflame Empire. You may take your pick of our youth.”
Charity raised one finger on each hand. “This is the current…score, if you would like to put it that way. There is one young Underlord from the Blackflame Empire who has been my choice all along. And I have had my eye on one young Lord or Lady from your Kingdom from the beginning.” She lowered her hands, folding them together. “None of your actions have changed the situation. It remains as it was months ago. There is still no third person at the Underlord level who meets my requirements.”
Daji stepped forward, anger clear on his face, and Kiro knew he had to act quickly before his little brother got himself killed.