by Will Wight
“Honored Sage,” Kiro blurted out, “is there nothing we can do to distinguish ourselves in your eyes?”
He had been speaking mostly to draw Charity’s attention away from Daji, but she surveyed him for a long moment. After a second, she produced a folded sheet of paper from nowhere, flicking it toward him. The letter soared gently on the breeze, landing in his hand.
“The Blackflame Empire will return,” the Sage said. “The details are contained within.”
Kiro unfolded the paper. It was a map of the Night Wheel Valley, much more detailed than the one his father had cobbled together, with a single location circled. He read the label, as well as the instructions below.
Then he looked back to Charity, shocked.
She met his eyes calmly. “Send your three candidates to the location I have indicated and follow the directions I have left for you.”
The letter predicted everything the Blackflame Empire would do. As well as the actions of three of their young Golds.
The Sage wanted to see another competition.
“This time,” Charity went on, “I want to see you demonstrate your skills fairly. Hold nothing back. I have only one reminder for you.”
Kiro knew what she was about to say. It was written on the bottom of the letter, in large characters, circled for emphasis.
“You should not harm Akura Mercy,” the Sage said.
The same words were repeated on the paper beneath the map. You should not harm Akura Mercy.
The phrasing bothered him, but before Kiro could question it, King Dakata pounded a fist against his chest and boasted, “We will not let the Sage down!”
Charity looked back to Daji. “Truly,” she said, “I hope you don’t.”
Then, without warning, she faded back into shadow, leaving silence behind her.
The celebration had been ruined. Most of the bound Remnants had fled or quivered in fear, the musicians were too paralyzed with shock and fear to touch their instruments. The guests only murmured to one another, their food forgotten, and Daji clenched his fists in rage on the stage.
Dakata strode over to Kiro, plucking the Sage’s letter from his hands. He read it once, his back straightened, and he read it again.
He slapped the paper back into Kiro’s hands. “This time, you will meet them with our full force. Everything we can spare. You will grind them into dust!” Finally, he barked orders to his servants. “Tell the Soulsmiths I need that new armor finished within the day. We will spare no expense.”
The closest servant cringed. “How many sets must we prepare, Your Highness?”
“Two,” the King commanded, “one for each of my sons. If we have to use up every treasure we’ve gathered since we came here, I want them finished by dawn.”
“Not two suits,” Kiro corrected. He kept his gaze on Meira’s face, drawing from her the strength to correct his father. “Three.”
Her gray eyes widened with shock, and his father swelled with fury. Still, he kept himself fixed on Meira.
“I don’t want you behind me any longer,” he said quietly. “I need you by my side.”
“I will not fail you again,” she swore.
She thought he was giving her the means to serve him better. It was the opposite; he was trying, for once, to serve her.
“You’ve never failed me,” he said.
Between his fingers, he gripped the Sage’s letter tight.
He was the one who couldn’t fail again.
Chapter 16
Just outside the walls of Blackflame City, the Imperial cloudship waited.
It was a hundred paces long and forty wide, with three levels, and it rested on a bed of shimmering jade clouds. Mounted on the back were five scripted tubes that looked like backwards-pointed cannons. Those contained spinning wind constructs that thrummed with an Overlord’s power, and the scripts around them shone green. A brief question of Dross informed Lindon that they were there for propulsion; this was the fastest cloudship the Empire possessed.
Forty-eight of the strongest Blackflame Truegolds were gathered on the deck, as well as thirteen of the sixteen Underlords. Eithan stood chatting with Naru Saeya, who leaned against the railing suppressing a smile. Naru Gwei spoke with a veiled Underlady Lindon didn’t recognize and the Cloud Hammer Underlord, Chon Ma. Four or five of the gathered Underlords stood in a separate group, bristling with pride—those must be the newest additions, who had advanced in the Night Wheel Valley. None of them had less than a full head of gray hair.
Mercy and Yerin stood with Lindon, all wearing their Skysworn armor. Lindon had made some modifications to his, only a few of which were obvious to the naked eye. There were lines of script running down many of the armor’s joints, and the bracers and greaves on his right arm had been removed, leaving his white Remnant limb bare.
Over the heads of the crowd, Lindon spotted Cassias and his wife, moving over to greet them. Cassias was excited that Eithan had made up with the family leadership and wanted to know what had prompted that decision. Lindon had no idea what he was talking about, and said so.
Together, they discussed their situation. Fueled by the Emperor’s power, they were supposed to dash through the portal, head straight to the vault, empty it, and return. The Seishen Kingdom had erected some defenses on the other side, but they were token efforts at best, and the scouts were certain they’d spotted them all.
It wasn’t as risky as it sounded, Cassias assured them. The Seishen Kingdom could not have time to mobilize a force like theirs, and the strongest sacred artist on their side—the King—would be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. If they had an Archlord, this would be suicidal. As it was, they had little to lose.
Lindon understood all that, but he couldn’t help a case of nerves. Yerin’s life was riding on this.
He, for one, intended to attempt advancement as soon as they were on the other side. As for Yerin’s revelation…he knew it would be easier to sense the unity of aura on the other side. Maybe she would have the insight she needed. And maybe they could loot enough natural treasures that they could replicate the aura-rich environment on the other side.
But the hourglass was running down, and Lindon couldn’t think of anything else to do. How could he push someone else toward a personal revelation?
Mercy waved good-bye and headed off to the Emperor—she was to be the native guide on this expedition. And, Cassias informed them, Eithan and Naru Saeya were serving as navigators.
Lindon glanced around to where he’d last seen Eithan and instead found the Arelius Underlord standing not three feet away, grinning at him.
Startled, Lindon took an involuntary step back.
Eithan reached into his robe, withdrawing an object with a flourish: a smoky orb a little smaller than a man’s head. Shapes seemed to eddy and shift in its misty depths.
The Archstone.
Lindon could feel a resonance with the hunger madra in his arm, as though they longed to reunite.
The Truegolds around them exclaimed, parting to create an open space around Eithan, and the binding wasn’t even activated.
“You have no idea the things I had to do to procure this for you, my beloved disciple,” Eithan announced clearly, so that the entire crowd could hear. “The indignities I had to suffer, the depths of depravity to which I had to sink.”
Lindon reached out to take it, but Eithan pulled back.
“Truly,” he cried, “the heavens must have wept the day they created a man of such generosity, such selfless spirit, as your master! Please, do not weep! Instead, take this gift and know that I would gift thee with my very beating heart should you request it.”
With that, he bowed low, extending both hands and offering Lindon the Archstone.
The Underlords at the front of the ship, no doubt used to Eithan, shook their heads and returned to their conversations. The Truegolds clearly had no clue how to respond. Some of them applauded. A few looked curiously at Lindon. He spotted Bai Rou against the railing, his yellow eyes b
urning beneath his wide straw hat. It was hard to tell, but it looked like the man was glaring at him.
Face burning, Lindon took the Archstone. He wanted to open his void key, but he couldn’t reveal its existence to this many people.
Instead, he drew it into his soulspace.
It was somewhat like devouring madra through his hunger madra arm, but when he looked within and inspected his madra, he could see the Archstone floating among his madra channels with perfect clarity. It hung above his cores, a white moon above a blue star and a dark one.
He had practiced bringing objects in and out of his soulspace ever since he’d opened it, but he hadn’t determined what to keep there. Maybe, if he ever learned to use a weapon and bonded one, he would store a sacred instrument. Or maybe he wouldn’t fill it with anything permanently, but would keep surprises in there. The Archstone counted.
“Gratitude, Eithan,” he said, trying to ignore the stares. “Please, lift your head. Really, please.”
As though he had done nothing out of the ordinary, Eithan straightened up. “I would wait to break that until you’re ready to Forge it, by the way,” he said, sweeping his long yellow hair back over one shoulder. “You don’t want the madra to lose any potency, and you never know what it will do if you break it uncontrolled.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He saluted, fists together. “And I am truly grateful.”
Eithan accepted that and said a few words to Cassias and Naru Jing. But as he turned to go back toward the Emperor, he paused as though he had forgotten something and turned back. To Yerin.
He placed a hand on her head. “Be calm, little sister,” he said quietly. “You have many years ahead of you.”
Then he spun and walked away, waving behind him as he did so.
Yerin looked as though she had seen the heavens and earth flip upside-down. Lindon moved to stand next to her.
Cassias tightened a glove. “One day, I will see him truly surprised. I think the shock of it might kill me.”
The wind picked up, swirling around them. Power gathered to the propulsion constructs in the back of the ship, until the entire vessel thrummed with palpable force.
All eyes naturally turned to the front. To the Emperor.
He had changed clothes again, and this time looked like he belonged on the battlefield. He wore green sacred artist's robes, his wings spread behind him, and he gave off the air of a warrior king. He spread his arms, and in Lindon's Copper sight, the aura around him burned a pale green.
The ship lifted up, the propulsion constructs gathering even more power. Lindon could hear them now, like spinning blades.
With one gesture of the Overlord's hand, the cloudship shot forward.
Mercy stood to his left, tethered to the deck with Chainkeeper madra. Eithan and Naru Saeya stood on his right, each peering forward.
As they blasted away from the Blackflame capital and into a column of dark power.
Yerin's face was tight, her spirit in chaos. The lowest pair of sword-arms had driven into the wood of the deck, but the others had been withdrawn. She stood with hair whipping in the wind of their passage, eyes focused on the darkness.
Lindon had knelt, letting his Remnant fingers stick into the wood and materializing them enough that he could get a grip. He held himself in place as they flew, reaching the portal in only a few breaths.
Underlord waited on the other side.
As they passed through the seemingly endless darkness, the others faded from Lindon's perception. He took the moment to steady his own breathing.
Are you ready? he asked Dross.
[Ready? Of course I'm ready. I'm looking forward to it, actually. A bit of excitement. I'm a lot more worried about Yerin. She could die, you know. And it's all on her, whether she makes it through or not. We're completely powerless. Nothing we can do to help.]
Lindon couldn't feel much of his own body, but he was sure he had tensed up.
[But I'm sure she'll be fine,] Dross added.
Slowly, the world returned.
They emerged from the column of shadow far faster than Lindon ever had before. Eithan and Naru Saeya were pointing and shouting to the Emperor, though Lindon couldn't make out what they were saying over the wind.
A massive wall of light, knitted together from strands of silver and yellow, barred their way. It encircled the Blackflame portal, covering the space from earth to clouds, radiating eternal force.
The Emperor's voice boomed out. “Chon Ma. Kotai Reina.”
The Underlord of the Cloud Hammer school pulled both hammers from his belt, the stormcloud over his head flashing with lightning. He leaped forward, ahead of even the ship.
He was joined a step later by one of the new Underlords, an Underlady with gray skin and long, flowing silver hair gathered behind her in a purple ribbon. She looked like a grandmother who had aged well, and as she flew, vivid blue constructs bloomed into the air around her like flowers.
Chon Ma ran on the air, a dark cloud blooming under his foot with every step. As he reached the yellow-and-silver wall, he let out a roar, swinging both hammers. Mist blasted out from him in an explosion.
At the same time, the Underlady lifted off the deck, blue flower-constructs spinning around her. They opened, releasing streams of lightning-bright sapphire energy that pierced the wall in half a dozen places.
The cloudship didn't slow down.
Chon Ma leaped up as the ship caught up to him, landing on the deck. The Underlady drifted back down in a dignified manner. Together, their attacks had left a web of cracks that covered the face of the wall, but they had only punched through in small holes. Nothing nearly big enough for the ship to pass through.
Lindon braced himself as the cloudship struck.
The wall shattered like glass, shards exploding as the prow of the ship broke through. The noise was deafening, a sharp-edged detonation, and pieces of silver-and-yellow madra careened through the air.
Lindon had to release the deck with his Remnant hand, leaning low to avoid being blown backwards, so that he could reach up and slap away a fragment of power the size of his chest.
No one on the deck was weak enough to be caught up in the destruction; none of the fragments came even close to Yerin, and Eithan was able to casually stand in front of Mercy. The madra simply dissolved when it came close to his skin.
And they were through, shooting over the dark trees of the valley. The Night Wheel itself spun slowly overhead, gathering purple light, and the strength of the aura here felt like diving into an ocean of power. The ship turned, making for the huge layered fortress that had swallowed up the eastern mountain, lit only by spots of violet or orange light.
Lindon gripped the deck again. The cloudship was tilted now, the bow rising, so that he was in danger of sliding backwards.
He pushed his perception outward, sensing the unity of aura, preparing to advance. But he knew the problem even before Dross said anything.
[I don't want to discourage you, but you'll need your full concentration if you want to advance. Which means you won't be able to keep aura cycling to your arm, and you will fall.]
It was even more complicated than that, Lindon knew. He wanted to Forge the Archstone into his arm as he advanced, and in order to do that, he would have to let go of the deck or the hand would remain permanently fused there.
Lindon looked up to Yerin, who offered a hand without a word. He took it in his hand of flesh, once again concentrating on the unity of aura. She held him as securely as if he were tied to the ship.
[Oh! That's a better idea, so long as you don't care about what happens to Yerin. She's not ready to advance yet, so the soulfire will burn her hand off. But then, you have a Remnant hand...]
Lindon released his perception, shook his head at Yerin, and took his hand away.
“I can wait until we land,” he conceded. Though the rich aura pressing against him tempted him. He was so close. But he wouldn't be able to lay out enough natural treasures around him
here either; he would have to pull them from his void key and leave them in his lap. Unless he could draw on their power by opening the key? Questions for later.
They ran across a few Seishen Kingdom sacred artists, who flew back to report what they had seen.
That was expected, and it encouraged Lindon to feel their spirits retreating in the opposite direction as the Akura family castle grew closer. Their information suggested that the bulk of the Seishen forces were concentrated in the heart of the valley, and it was nice to have that confirmed.
Of course, even if everything went according to plan and they emerged from the Akura vault with their ship bursting with enough natural treasures to fuel the entire Blackflame Empire, that still might not be enough for Yerin.
At Mercy's wild gesturing, the ship started to slow. The prow lowered gradually as the Emperor's power retreated, until eventually Lindon could release the deck.
They were at the base of the Akura family fortress, which loomed over them as a wide, jagged mountain against the dark sky. Its shadow covered them, the purple and orange lights making for strange silhouettes on each layer.
At the bottom layer, a scripted stone wall rose a hundred feet from the ground. And at the base of that wall, a wide gate carved with constellations.
The ship settled in front of the gate, the green cloud landing gently on the grass.
“You all have your assignments,” the Emperor announced. “Underlord first team, escort Akura Mercy to the gate. Truegold first team, with them. Truegold second team, fan out to the forests. Underlord second team...”
He continued to give orders, but Lindon and Yerin were in the first team. They walked over to Mercy, joining Eithan, Naru Saeya, and the silver-haired Kotai Underlady. She gave Lindon and Yerin a glance as they joined, but kept her attention mostly fixed on Mercy.
“A smooth flight,” Eithan observed. “Nothing makes me more nervous than a smooth flight. If your ship doesn't crash, then is it even a real—”
His head jerked to one side, his eyes growing suddenly serious. Naru Saeya drew her sword a moment later, its rainbow-colored blade shimmering.