Vu2

back the dragons, and beyond the southern jungles, the Seishen Kingdom eyed his lands. The Empire his mother had saved from the Blackflame family was now webbed with cracks. One firm tap could send it all crumbling to pieces. Over a hundred million people would divide into a thousand splinter kingdoms, all at war with one another. The offered reward didn't matter to him, although anything that came straight from the Akura family would surely be dazzling. No, the Empire needed stability. Training in the Night Wheel Valley would help him with that, as it would strengthen the sacred artists loyal to him. And competing on the world stage would allow him to make connections he could never have dreamed of otherwise. His homeland would die or thrive based on the Akura family's favor. "We will not fail you," he swore. He had no ill will toward his southern neighbor, the Seishen Kingdom, but he would crush them if he had to. Anything to distinguish his Empire to the clan that ruled them all. The Sage's owl took off from her shoulder, swirling over the heads of the crowd around the Emperor. He could feel them trying not to shiver. "One final note: I will be monitoring you to make sure that your competition with the Kingdom does not get too far out of hand. Conduct yourselves like honorable sacred artists with the reputation of the Akura clan behind you. However, the Night Wheel Valley will undoubtedly be dangerous. Only sacred artists willing to risk their safety should be allowed inside." The owl settled onto the head of a nearby servant, who looked like she would pass out. Akura Charity reached out a hand, and that servant scurried to present a tray full of drinks to her. She selected a shallow bowl, allowed the servant to fill it with dark wine, but she did not drink. She looked down, staring deeply into the surface of the wine as she spoke. "That concludes our business on behalf of my family." Naru Huan was not fooled into thinking this meeting was over. She wanted something else, and was making it clear that she didn't represent her family in doing so. "I have kept my eye on someone from your Empire," she continued. "A young Blackflame, contracted to a sacred turtle." Naru Huan remembered descriptions of Eithan's disciple. "There is no true member of the Blackflame family remaining," he hedged. He couldn't

lie to a Sage, but he wanted to know more about her interest in the boy before he gave her the answer she sought. The more he knew, the more advantage he might be able to squeeze out of the situation. The Sage continued examining the wine. She did not increase the power of her soul. But the rest of the world turned black. It was as though only Naru Huan and Akura Charity existed, and everything else was swallowed by a sea of endless black. Behind the Sage's head, an apparition loomed up, like the sudden appearance of a Remnant; it was a huge book, wrought of silver and purple light, with a shining Remnant eye in its center. The eye swiveled, locking onto Naru Huan, and he began to sweat. Out of instinct, he released the veil around his spirit, trying to fend off this attack with his power…but he failed. Nothing happened. His soul remained tightly bound, his madra still. His body trembled, as an inexplicable dread pressed in on him from the outside. "You should not lie to me," Charity suggested. She took a sip of wine. As quickly as it had appeared, the darkness vanished. The book disappeared like a hallucination, and the fear snapped out of existence. Leaving the Emperor, sweating and trembling in the middle of his court. His wife looked at him in concern, and all the others in shock. They had only seen him lose his nerve for no apparent reason. He collected himself, pretending nothing had happened, but his face burned with shame. He swallowed his broken pride for the sake of the Empire, pushing his head down into a reluctant bow. "We beg your forgiveness, Sage," the Emperor said. Then he told her about Eithan's disciple. When he had finished, Charity did not react. She told him nothing about why she had wanted to know, merely placed her now-empty cup back on the servant's tray and inclined her head. From above, he heard the warbling cries of Remnant horses returning, dragging the carriage behind them again. "I will not be staying the night," Charity said. "I must deliver the same message to your neighbors. In two months, I will return and open the gateway to the Night Wheel Valley for your Empire. In that time, you should gather up all your best prospects and strongest fighters here in Blackflame City."

The carriage didn't even touch the ground. It swept by, its door flickering open and closed, and she slipped inside in one motion. The Sage's voice drifted behind her. "Work hard, Your Imperial Highness." When she was gone, the courtyard erupted. Everyone questioned him all at once, or else offered their own opinions on what to do. Their decorum as members of his court was entirely forgotten. He let them ramble. There was only one thing they could do: contact all the Underlords and have them bring their disciples to Blackflame City as soon as possible. It would strain his resources to contact everyone and have them return within two months, but he would spare no expense. After that, he had only to hope that this generation had some hidden dragons. ~~~ The Skysworn's flying city of Stormrock was built on a massive green cloudbank. Guard towers loomed over forbidding walls of black stone, even as one tower rose over the rest of the city. Starsweep Tower. Headquarters of the Skysworn. Other cloudships, Thousand-Mile Clouds, carriages pulled by winged creatures, and flying sacred artists had to stop at the gates of the city, but Naru Gwei's cloudship soared over the walls without even slowing down. They headed straight to the highest floor of Starsweep Tower, where a broad path of stone jutted out like a bridge to nowhere. The dock for his ship. Flanked on all sides by Skysworn, Lindon and the others followed Naru Gwei into the tower. The last time they had visited, the Skysworn had treated them with outward hostility. This time, the looks from those they passed changed: instead of revulsion or pity, now Lindon saw more outright horror. Dross made a soft hum inside Lindon's head as a green-clad woman pressed herself against the wall to slide past Lindon, even though there were several paces between them. [Oh, they're afraid! Are they afraid of you?] He lowered his voice, as though he didn't want to be overheard, even though he was speaking directly into Lindon's thoughts. [Do they hate you? On second thought, forget I said anything. Best not to dwell on it. They probably like you too much, that's why they're running from you.]

They didn't expect us to make it to Truegold, Lindon replied. At least, he assumed that was the reason. He couldn't imagine why else the Skysworn would be afraid of seeing them in the custody of their Underlord Captain. [Good! That's good. I was worried it was your face. And you know what? It makes sense. I didn't expect you to live to Truegold either. Every day you survive is a new surprise for me. Full of surprises, you are.] Naru Gwei pushed further into the tower, slipping easily through the hallways. Skysworn stepped aside to let him pass. Finally, he stopped before a heavy door marked with the Skysworn emblem: a thick cloud surrounding a ball of fire. On Lindon's apprentice pin, it had been the same, but without the fire in the center. The Underlord turned to face them, arms crossed in his battered armor, chewing on a long leaf. As usual, he looked like he had been roused unwillingly from a deep sleep. "I have more than one reason not to trust you," he said. "But I'm willing to chance it. If you can help me settle one particularly disturbing report." Mercy leaned forward, smiling brightly. "We'll do whatever we can!" "Who's this 'we'?" Yerin muttered. Naru Gwei rapped his gauntleted knuckles against the door, the sharp ring stealing their attention back. "You're here to gain my trust. Remember that, when I open this door." Mercy nodded, but Orthos blew smoke, and Yerin's eyes went cold. Lindon knew the feeling; personally, he was happy to do whatever he could to get Naru Gwei out from in front of them, but the Underlord's attitude still bothered him. As Lindon reckoned it, Naru Gwei was the one who had mistreated them. Little Blue crooned from Lindon's pocket, and he reached down to pat her. Then the door swung open, and Bai Rou was waiting for them. The huge Skysworn man sat with a broad table between him and the door, his elbows propped up. Yellow eyes burned in the shadows beneath his wide-brimmed straw hat, and he didn't look the least surprised to see them. The room looked identical to some of the other meeting rooms in the tower, with a few exceptions. It was a little larger, the table was covered in paperwork, and a giant Skysworn emblem—cast in bronze—hung behind

the room's lone chair. A bundle of long leaves sat on the table to Bai Rou's left. Naru Gwei waved a hand at the other Skysworn irritably. "Get out of my seat," he said, and Bai Rou obeyed. The Captain drew his huge slab of a sword from his back, letting it rest on a metal rack in the corner that seemed designed especially for this purpose. So this was Naru Gwei's office. Lindon was somewhat interested in looking around more, but a murderous aura filled the space, as though a battle had broken out. He didn't need to extend his spiritual sense to know where this sensation was coming from. Both of Yerin's steel sword-arms were poised, she was gritting her teeth, and her eyes boiled with anger. Her scars stood out, pale against her flushed skin, and her hand was tight on her sword. She didn't attack, but she didn't withdraw the pressure of her spirit either. Lindon could feel the Blood Shadow clearly; its anger and its thirst for blood. "Can't get rid of you, can I?" Yerin said. "Try," Bai Rou responded. He was standing at Naru Gwei's shoulder now, and though he made no outward move to attack, he started cycling his madra. The air was filled with a thick, oppressive atmosphere that reminded Lindon of a nightmare. [Ew, that's...that is disgusting,] Dross said, making a choking sound. [Don't let him close to me.] Alarmed, Lindon turned his attention to the construct. Is he hurting you? [Ugh, it's like something slimy and sticky has a million legs and is crawling all over my face. If I could vomit, I'd be vomiting all inside your head. Right up in your spirit.] But is he a threat? [You know what? Let's say he is, and just…stand a little further back. Ick.] Orthos stood at Yerin's side, taking up half the office on his own, smoldering with Blackflame. He wasn't looking for a fight, but he was prepared for one. "Bai Rou has told me that you attacked him in the field," Naru Gwei said. "That you were unsatisfied with his commands, so you began to fight him in enemy territory."

"That's dead right," Yerin said. "He was..." Her gaze flickered to Lindon for an instant. "...he held me back from saving lives. If we'd followed his orders, we'd have left half our squad in the grave." "You would have killed me," Bai Rou said. "You tossed me out of the sky!" There was a green flash from Naru Gwei, and thunder rolled out in a deafening peal. "I have better things to do than listen to children bicker. Bai Rou, you say the Akura family has taken responsibility for Renfei's death, but losing her is enough of a blow. I'm not going to lose any more Truegolds if I can help it. Is there any way for you to set aside this personal grudge..." The conversation continued, the Captain talking, Yerin and Bai Rou arguing, and Orthos burning quietly to the side. But Lindon didn't listen to it. He'd been distracted by Dross' sudden voice. [That is the most dedicated janitor I have ever seen.] Lindon immediately stopped watching the scene, glancing around. Where? [Up. Higher. In the corner. Really, I'm using your eyes, so you shouldn't need me to point him out.] After a second, Lindon craned his neck to look up and behind him. The ceiling in the room was surprisingly high, criss-crossed with metal support beams. And there, as he had suspected, was Eithan. The blond Underlord floated on a deep green Thousand-Mile Cloud and wore armor of a matching shade, which was enough of a shock on its own. Since when had Eithan joined the Skysworn? Or was this a disguise? He floated in the high corner, scrubbing at a spot on the ceiling with a rag. As Lindon stared, Eithan finished polishing the spot, snapping the rag and making it vanish into thin air. Now that Lindon paid attention, he realized that the entire ceiling and all the supports were spotless. [There was a janitorial staff in Ghostwater, but I've never seen anyone so committed to their job! Come to think of it, what happened to…oh, right, eaten. They were eaten.] Eithan glanced down to meet Lindon's gaze, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Clearly, he hadn't expected anyone to notice him. He waved, then raised one finger to his lips for silence.

Lindon looked back at the others. Yerin, Bai Rou, and Naru Gwei were still locked in a three-way argument. Mercy jumped in, saying something conciliatory on behalf of the Akura family, and Orthos had drawn his head back into his shell. Clearly, he was bored with the whole thing. None of them had noticed Eithan. Lindon couldn't sense anything of the Underlord, and apparently neither could anyone else. Eithan had always been skilled in veils. But for once, Lindon had caught him. Dross made a throat-clearing noise. [Who caught him? Hm? It's not as though I need the praise, but a little credit...] It was hard to concentrate on the argument after that. Yerin was red in the face, her sword-arms quivering, and her hands pressed down on the table hard enough that the wood creaked. Mercy stood next to her, leaning on her dragon-headed staff. Inside Lindon's pocket, he could feel Little Blue playing with Suriel's marble. Bai Rou turned his whole body to Mercy whenever she spoke, looking oddly respectful. Finally, he said, "I will live up to your test, honored Akura." This seemed to surprise Mercy, and it caught Naru Gwei's attention. "You had better explain yourself, Skysworn." Bai Rou looked to his Captain, pressing his fists together in a salute. "I cannot say anything until the time comes." Naru Gwei bit his leaf in half, letting the other half drift down to the table. "I don't like learning new things this late, Skysworn." "They gave me a glimpse of what is coming," Bai Rou rumbled. "I swore an oath to reveal nothing before the proper time." Naru Gwei turned sharp eyes on Mercy. "And is the Akura clan planning something? Is this something the Emperor should know?" Mercy looked as lost as the Underlord, stammering out an answer, but Lindon turned back to Eithan. The Arelius Underlord drifted backwards to the corner of the ceiling, over Naru Gwei's head. Lindon was the only one watching him. It was hard to keep his expression blank. The Underlord withdrew his Thousand-Mile Cloud and released his veil at the same time, dropping to his feet behind the Skysworn Captain and clapping his hand on the man's shoulder.

Naru Gwei tensed up, his eyes closing as though he were holding himself back from taking a swing. Mercy gasped, Yerin groaned, and Orthos stuck his head out of his shell. Bai Rou leaped back, conjuring a fistful of yellow liquid madra, and Dross choked again. Eithan leaned in next to the Captain's face, grinning ear to ear. "Well, based on this new information, it seems I was correct once again. You should be used to that by now." "We have no evidence of that," Naru Gwei said, clenching his hand into a fist. Eithan turned to address Mercy. "Young miss Akura, I have suggested that this year's competition between Monarch disciples will spill over to affect us here in the Blackflame Empire. Tell me, have you seen any signs of your clan putting unusual emphasis on raising up their young elites?" Yerin turned to him, suspicion on her face. "The Akura Sage said something with about the same shape to it. There's a competition coming, or so she said. It's why all those Truegolds were on the island." Mercy ran a hand across her shortened hair. She looked deep in thought. "If they sent Harmony and Aunt Charity to Ghostwater, then...I don't know if they'll involve you or not, but it does seem like the tournament is going to shake us up this year." Lindon still wanted to tell her exactly what had happened to Harmony. Or at least his role in it. But he wasn't sure if she was afraid of being overheard or if she really didn't care. Still holding onto Naru Gwei's shoulder with one hand, Eithan reached out to lay a hand on Bai Rou. The Truegold Skysworn tried to dodge, but he might as well have stood still; Eithan's green gauntlet landed on top of his straw hat. "Yet another reason why we can't afford to stifle the growth of such promising young talents!" Eithan said passionately. "Let us set aside the petty feuds of the young generation, and grow together for the good of the Blackflame Empire!" It was a warm speech, but Naru Gwei spat the chewed-up remnants of his leaf at Eithan's feet. Eithan smoothly slipped his shoe to one side and continued talking. "It's truly fortunate that I have come to support the Skysworn in your time of

need, to raise our youth into responsible citizens and champions of the Blackflame Empire." "They have no loyalty to us," Bai Rou said, eyes burning. "They are a weapon that will turn in our hand. They—" Eithan cut him off by whirling on him and grabbing him by both shoulders. "Do you think I'd forgotten you? What a paragon of a young Truegold you are! Even among the children of the vaunted Akura clan, how many of them could possibly have talent to rival yours?" Mercy started to speak up, but Eithan waved her to silence without turning from Bai Rou. "How could you focus on this tiny grudge? It's beneath you! Let me take these children out of your way," he turned to Naru Gwei, "and yours. I assure you, I will keep my sharpest eye on each of them." Dross spoke up. [Say, here's an idle thought: do you think you could take me out of your head and put me in his? Not that I think he's better than you, or anything. Of course not. But uh...could you think about it?"] Lindon wasn't actually sure if he could separate himself from Dross at all, but he started thinking very hard about pulling Dross out of his spirit and putting the construct back into a gem. Then dropping the gem into the ocean, where it would sit for decades. Dross coughed. [Just a little joke. You know, a sense of humor would make you more popular. Maybe then people wouldn't stare at you in the hall.] "No," Naru Gwei said to Eithan. "I trust you least of all. If I use them, I'll be splitting them up and stationing them in different cities." When Eithan spoke, his words reverberated in Lindon's spiritual sense like a gong. "I, Eithan Arelius, hereby swear on my soul that if I am allowed to take these young sacred artists as my Skysworn squad, I will do everything in my power to lead them to their own benefit and the benefit of the Blackflame Empire." His voice continued to echo, and Naru Gwei looked stunned. Eithan's smile crept upward, and he added, "In addition, I will follow your lawful orders in the course of my duties, and..." He paused for maximum effect. "...I will personally spend no more time in your presence than required." "Deal," Naru Gwei shouted immediately, as though he feared the moment would pass. Their spirits both quivered, so that even Lindon could sense it, and Eithan spread his hands and his grin wide.

"Brilliant! Easy enough. Ladies, gentleman, turtle, if you will follow me, I believe I am now obligated to give our honorable Captain some space." Yerin looked around the room, then pulled her Goldsigns close to her back. She shook her head, a smirk on her face, and walked from the room. Orthos chuckled and said something to Eithan, butting the side of his shell up against the Underlord's hip. Eithan laughed and rested his hand on the turtle's head, and the two of them walked out as well. Mercy looked bewildered, but she bowed to both Naru Gwei and Bai Rou before leaving, using her staff like a walking stick. Lindon made sure he was the last to leave the room. He was watching Naru Gwei, who melted into his chair with a sigh of absolute release. Bai Rou spoke up. "He got exactly what he wanted," the Skysworn said, his deep voice laced with anger. "You let him—" The Underlord slapped the table, letting out a loud bang. He left an indentation of his hand pressed into the wood. "Bai Rou," he said, "shut up. Just...shut up."

Chapter 4 Only a day later, Lindon found himself with a new set of armor inside a Skysworn training facility. The room was a stone box reinforced by scripts to withstand the high-intensity sparring of Truegolds, and targets and training weapons leaned up against one wall while benches lined the other. Yerin staggered stiffly in the middle of the floor, trying to bend her arms. The green armor sat on her like she'd been encased in stone, and she stomped around as though she had weights tied to each limb, her Goldsigns sticking out from the back. They had worked together to find adjustable panels on the back that could be removed in order to allow her sword-arms the freedom to move. "It's like locking myself in a box," Yerin grumbled. She tugged at her collar, but the leather padding of the interior was stiff. "If I have to fight in this, at least I'll be wearing my own coffin." Mercy propped one leg up on a bench, doing a few quick stretches in her armor. She actually looked more comfortable in the green plate of the Skysworn than she did in her normal clothes, and she looked pleased while patting her armor. "How do I look?" She straightened up from her stretch, transforming her staff into a bow and striking a pose. With a sound like tinkling glass, Little Blue applauded. Mercy bowed to the spirit, and Yerin shot her a jealous look. "This is the only sensible thing I've seen any human wear," Orthos said. "But it does leave your head unprotected." Lindon hadn't put on a single piece of his armor, though he wore the tight-fitting cloth suit that you were supposed to wear beneath it. He was sitting nearby, flipping through the armor's manual. He tapped a page. "There are defensive constructs in the armor that cover the head. That's the real defense, more than the armor itself. And there are protective scripts circling the neck."

Orthos snorted. "Too complicated." He slipped his head into his shell and back out. "You see how simple this is?" His head disappeared and reappeared again. "The simple solutions are best." Lindon flipped the page, running down the list of optional accessories. "Oh, you can order a helmet, you just have to pay for it yourself." The armor was interesting. Ever since seeing Renfei die to a single attack from Akura Harmony, he had looked down on Skysworn armor, wondering what it actually did to protect its user. It could do quite a bit. It came with a dream construct that could transmit messages, a Thousand-Mile Cloud contained in a compartment on the back, a triggered defense in the form of a wind barrier, passive defenses in the form of scripts that weakened hostile madra and spiritual attacks, and a long list of additional options that could be added by the Skysworn Soulsmiths. However, he could see the limitations easily. For one thing, each of those constructs had to be powered. If it drew on itself for power, it would only last for a few days before needing to be replaced. If the sacred artist fueled the constructs, their madra had to be compatible. Even so, the armor would need near-constant maintenance, and the more options it had, the more expensive it would be to maintain. He suspected most Skysworn would have as few constructs in their armor as possible, and would activate them only rarely. As for Akura Harmony's attack... [Harmony used the Shadow's Edge technique,] Dross said. [It's a Striker technique with shadow and sword aspects, and it cuts on the spiritual level as much as the physical. Harmony could slice a single page out of the middle of a book with it, and if the target has a spirit? That's even easier. It's amazing! You should see what it can do to a person. Oh, I guess you have. And if I had been a tenth of a second later, you'd have seen what it did to your spine. Good thing I'm around, isn't it?] Lindon shivered and turned back to his armor. He didn't have to worry much about madra compatibility, so long as he only used his pure core to activate the armor's techniques, but pure madra maintenance was only better than nothing. He would need to have Fisher Gesha take a look; he already had some modifications in mind. For one thing, the communication construct could go. Its range and efficiency were poor, and Dross could do the same thing faster and more

clearly. That left only the passive scripted defenses, the Thousand-Mile Cloud, and the triggered barrier of wind. He had a lot of room to add constructs of his own before they began to interfere with one another. It would take huge amounts of madra to activate multiple constructs at the same time, but that was to be expected. For one thing, he didn't have to activate all the constructs at the same time. For another, he had madra to spare. He was working with the right arm of the armor, trying to see if it would work with his Remnant prosthetic or if the white arm would obstruct the scripts, when Eithan popped open the door. "No horrific mishaps yet? Good, because the Skysworn require us to take on an assignment soon in order to complete our registration as a squad." Lindon hoped it wouldn't be too soon. They had only been back in the city for one night, and he wanted to enjoy hot meals and clean beds for a while longer. Besides, he hadn't gotten to talk with Yerin enough on their journey back. "So how about right now?" Eithan continued. "I happen to have found a terrific opportunity nearby!" Yerin groaned. Orthos huffed out smoke. Little Blue let out a sad little tinkling noise and slowly climbed out of Lindon's boot. Even Mercy sagged against her staff, giving a sigh. [A terrific opportunity? I was going to say we should pass up a regular opportunity and take a day off to rest, but a terrific opportunity? How can we say no to that?] A worm of guilt ran through Lindon's gut. How could he even think of taking it easy? He had a long road to travel, and he couldn't afford to be lazy. But last night, he had woken up half a dozen times in a sweat, thinking he was in danger. It had been too long since he'd slept in safety. In Ghostwater, he had never felt truly secure, and now he couldn't shake the feeling. Eithan clearly noticed the mood, because his smile turned sympathetic. "Believe it or not, I do believe rest is valuable. You have worked hard, and any weapon pushed to its limits for too long will break. However, time does not wait, so I'm afraid I must push you one last time."

Lindon was sure this wouldn't be the last time. "In return, I am an open book." Eithan spread his hands. "What would you like to know from me?" Before Lindon could even digest the opportunity, Yerin answered. "Underlord," she said simply. There were many things Lindon wanted a straight answer about, but that was the most urgent. He agreed without hesitation. "If you could guide us to Underlord, I would be grateful." Eithan turned to Mercy and Orthos, as though waiting for an objection, but neither said anything. Mercy looked like she was bracing herself for bad news, but Lindon felt eagerness—though muted and restrained—from Orthos. "Well, all right then! Underlord it is." Eithan stroked his chin as though organizing his thoughts. "There are three steps to reaching Underlord. Mastering yourself, mastering the world around you, and then connecting yourself to the world. It's the third step that's the most mysterious." What about soulfire? Lindon asked Dross. [That's the by-product of connecting to the world around you,] Dross said. [And don't worry, I know everything about advancing to Underlord. But since my memories are all jumbled up and pieces of them are missing, let's listen to him first, right? Just to make sure he knows what he's talking about.] Eithan continued. "First, you must open your soulspace, which involves reaching the peak of Truegold and controlling your madra completely." Lindon had understood that much already. Jai Long had reached that state after absorbing and digesting as much madra as he could. "Second, you must weave soulfire from aura. Many would-be Lords and Ladies fail at this step, but I have some tricks that you may find useful." [Oh, that's not terribly hard for any real sacred artist,] Dross said confidently. Lindon's spirits lifted. [Or so Northstrider said.] Lindon wasn't sure if that was reassuring or not. On the one hand, a Monarch would surely have great understanding of the sacred arts. On the other hand, they might have impossible standards. What was simple as lifting a hand for him might be an incomprehensible riddle for Lindon. "And for the third and final step," Eithan went on, "you must call upon your soulfire to re-forge your body. Sounds simple, doesn't it? It's not."

[That's what Harmony asked me about!] Dross said excitedly. [Not me, but me when I was part of the tree. You remember. He couldn't complete the third stage and advance to Underlord, so he asked me how.] What did you say? Lindon asked. Eithan continued speaking, cutting off Dross. "Many Underlords don't know the secret to triggering the soulfire transformation, reforging your body and tying you to the world around you. Even though they've passed it themselves, they don't recognize exactly which insight made it possible." [Remembering is…hard. There was more of me before. But Harmony… I told him to put his life at risk, and all would become clear.] Dross paused a moment. [Why would I say that? That sounds like terrible advice.] Well, at least that helped explain why Harmony was so set on fighting Lindon. "It is a personal revelation," Eithan said. "A true, deep understanding of yourself that causes the soulfire inside you to resonate with the aura around you, activating your advancement." Yerin looked thoughtful, crossing green-plated arms awkwardly, her Goldsigns hovering over her head. Mercy looked surprisingly grim, though Lindon couldn't see why, and wistfulness drifted over from Orthos' soul, as though he'd heard a story about something he wanted but could never have. Little Blue peeped and ran back into Lindon's pocket, curling up for a nap. Lindon committed the process to memory, though he was sure he'd write it down later. What else do you know about reaching Underlord? he asked Dross silently. The construct's voice was filled with longing. [Everything…or at least I did. It was like being a piece of all knowledge in the universe, all of it at once, and then it was like getting rudely torn away and tossed into some human's head. Which is, you know…great.] Forgiveness. I did not intend to hurt you. Even the smallest fragment of what you remember could be helpful. [...you're too serious, I know I've told you that before. I was only complaining.] Dross sighed. [Listen, you won't have any trouble with the first step. Not once you get your pure core up to standard. It's scrawny right now, a little wimpy, so you're going to want to beef that up. Put some meat on those bones. Second step...well, not to brag, but I can handle that one.

No problem. You have to sense the unity of aura, which is a lot easier with a mind-spirit in your head.] This time, Lindon wished he could take notes, but he still didn't want to expose his void key to Mercy. Or to Eithan, for that matter. He wanted to surprise Eithan when he would get a better reaction. [The third step is the weird one. You'll want to discover your reason for practicing the sacred arts.] That's it? How does my motivation change anything? He had experienced dream tablets left behind by Lords, and he could still imagine the feeling of channeling soulfire. He was sure that the secret to advancement was a soulfire cycling technique. What did his knowledge of himself have to do with advancement? It almost didn't feel like sacred arts at all. [If my memories of Northstrider have taught me anything,] Dross said, [it's that the sacred arts only get weirder.] Eithan clapped his hands, staring off into space. "As it turns out, we're even more limited on time than I expected, so now that we're all armored up, I'm going to give you a choice." Lindon started hurriedly pulling his armor on. He would have to keep his right arm under control until he could script some longer-term safety measures into the suit. Eithan tilted his head to the left. "We can go on some secret missions I've discovered that would be of great benefit to the Empire, or..." He tilted his head the other way. "...we can embark on the most efficient way I know to train you to Underlord. It's entirely up to you." "The missions!" Mercy said, raising her staff. "Underlord," Lindon and Yerin said at the same time. Eithan gasped. "This is an amazing coincidence, because the most efficient way I have to train you requires us to earn a great deal of money. And the most profitable prospect available to us—" He held up a stack of papers. "—is to complete missions for the Skysworn!" Orthos chuckled. Yerin gave Eithan a flat stare. Mercy looked excited. Little Blue let out a little whistling snore and curled up tighter in Lindon's pocket. Lindon asked, "What about the Arelius family?" He knew that Eithan was restricted by what the family would allow him to spend, but surely the greatest source of funding available quickly would

be from the Arelius family. Eithan cleared his throat. "We're having a temporary disagreement of sorts. Suffice it to say that I do not have the same access to family funds that I used to." Lindon didn't want to pry further, but his heart fell. Without the resources of the Arelius family, advancing would become that much more difficult. "I've come across some good fortune in Ghostwater," he admitted, though it speared him through the gut to be volunteering his spoils of war. "Works of art I…recovered…from a gold dragon. They aren't any help in the sacred arts, but Orthos suggested we could sell them." He hated to give up money he could use, but if Eithan really knew of a way to advance them all together, then Lindon would contribute. Eithan clapped him on the back. "Generosity! Truly, the disciple takes after his master. Now, we have to get going! Those sewer spirits won't blow themselves up." ~~~ Yerin had worked for the Arelius family before, and she'd never say out loud that she missed it. Working for the Skysworn was much the same. It was nice to have a mission and a purpose that was simple enough to complete. Sewer spirits formed out of corruptive, toxic aura, and grew until they could squeeze their way up into homes, eating pets and weak Remnants. Just had to track them down and dice them up, then track them back to their source. The Arelius family would have to clean up the mess at the center of it all, but the Skysworn existed to keep the peace in the sacred arts world. Dealing with spirits that got too strong was their job. A few days after that, they chased down a circle of renegade Soulsmiths selling faulty healing constructs. They had hired a pack of Truegold sacred beasts as muscle, so that one ended up getting a little heated. For ten more days, they recovered stolen weapons, hunted Remnants to replenish their Soulsmith supply, and guarded a farm from a group that the Soulsmith called bandits. They ended up being hungry locals, driven from their homes after the Dreadgod attack, who agreed to stop making trouble in exchange for a crate full of food. In between everything else, they had to supervise the Emperor's latest decree. He had called every sect, school, and clan that mattered a notch to Blackflame City, and even Stormrock was drifting in that direction. They

passed over caravans, cloudships, and processions of sacred artists heading to the capital, and of course a few holds and sects that didn't want to listen. Intimidating stubborn Truegolds into following orders was a bright spot in her day. Wasn't too long ago that they could have swept the floor with her, and now they had to straighten up their spines as soon as she walked in the door. Besides, now that Lindon had a proper spirit in him, he had a natural gift for sharp looks. It made her heart warm to see him make a white-haired elder choke using nothing but a black-eyed stare. The baby squirrel had finally left the nest and grown into a...well, squirrels never turned into anything scary. Call it an ancient sacred squirrel. They had taken their first steps toward becoming a real team, too. Mercy had no problem taking care of Remnants or feeding the hungry, but she couldn't scare so much as a baby kitten. Orthos had no interest in anything complicated; he just wanted to know what to knock over. A turtle after her own heart. Little Blue...still wouldn't touch Yerin. That didn't bother Yerin. Why should it? The spirit looked so happy riding around on Lindon's shoulder, pointing out the scenery they passed, scampering up on his head to get a better look. ...maybe she should get a Sylvan of her own. Everyone was working as a merry team except one. On his own, Eithan could have done as much as the rest of the squad, but he seemed happier to sit back and watch them. He didn't talk to the citizens, he didn't fight, he only pointed them in the right direction and watched. Lindon didn't say anything, but Yerin could tell it was pushing him to the edge of a cliff. He tried every night to get Eithan to train him in pure madra techniques, but Eithan always said Lindon wasn't ready. Yerin couldn't imagine what he was waiting for, but he was starting to get on the wrong side of her, too. What right did he have to treat Lindon like that? Though she had to admit that part of her was relieved. With Eithan's personal instruction, Lindon might beat her to Underlord. What if he made it, and she never did? They flew back to Starsweep Tower, landing and withdrawing their Thousand-Mile Clouds. Yerin still hated the armor, but having a cloud you could summon and dismiss at a thought was pleasing.

"Where's dinner?" Yerin asked, as soon as they hit the pavement. Lindon carried the papers proving that they had completed their day's assignment—tracking down a pack of sacred bats and 'persuading' them to stop attacking the cloudships that came and went from Stormrock. He would turn the missions in for payment, then join the rest of them. "Fisher Gesha is cooking for her family," Lindon responded, flipping through the papers one last time. "She invited us over." "What has she got cooking?" Yerin asked. She wouldn't put it past the old woman to boil up a pot full of spiders. "Apologies, I'm not sure. Crab, I think?" Crabs. The spiders of the sea. Yerin looked to Mercy and Orthos, hoping they would have other plans, but Orthos was still shivering on the ground, relieved to get out of the sky. Eithan's Thousand-Mile Cloud was the largest, so he had to haul the turtle every time, and Orthos still hated flying. Mercy gingerly patted the turtle's head, speaking in a soothing voice. Finally, she turned to her last hope: Eithan. Who was already staring at her with a big grin on his face. That was never a good sign. "Why don't the rest of you clean up and head over?" Eithan suggested, slipping an arm between Yerin's Goldsigns and resting it on her shoulders. "I'd like to have a moment with Yerin, if she doesn't mind." Mercy agreed enthusiastically and then guided Orthos away, paying no attention to the rest of them. Lindon looked up from the papers, glancing from Yerin to Eithan's arm on her shoulders. Then he turned his gaze to Eithan. Sometimes it was hard to tell what Lindon's face meant. Yerin couldn't tell if he was waiting for an explanation for an Underlord or if he was glaring. It looked like a glare, but then, it always did. Eithan pulled his arm back and coughed. "I have a few remarks I would like to share with her. About her training." Now that was definitely a glare. Eithan waved a hand at him. "You know I haven't forgotten you, just go get our pay. We'll meet you at the Fisher's." Lindon looked less thrilled about getting the money than he had before, but he trudged off toward the accounts office.

Once he was gone, Eithan ushered Yerin into a nearby meeting room. The tower was riddled with identical rooms, which Yerin had seen before; Skysworn used them for everything from interrogations to filling out paperwork to throwing parties. Eithan shut the door...and, for a moment, actually looked a little embarrassed. It was strange enough that Yerin wondered if she should draw her sword. "If you recall," Eithan began, "a long time ago, I promised to give you a present. It was something I picked up from the Desolate Wilds, and only recently has it become appropriate to give it to you." Yerin eyed him. She'd never expected Eithan to give her anything. Lindon had needed more of his attention, and they shared a Path anyway. Eithan rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Over the last few days, I have come to remember that I have not been a good mentor to you. You have your own Path and your own direction, so I allowed myself to forget that you need guidance as well. For that, I apologize." The Underlord actually bowed at the waist, pressing his fists together. Yerin didn't know what to say. Seeing Eithan without his swagger was twisted and wrong. Like night falling at noonday. "It's nothing worth getting all chipped about," she muttered. Eithan straightened up, beaming again. "Excellent! I intend for us to stick together until we're slapping Monarchs and juggling Dreadgods, so it would be a waste to fall to a misstep now." "Right, well, I intend to walk to the nearest gambling hall and win every game all at once." She extended a hand. "Never mind. You've got something for me?" She couldn't hope for too much. Eithan liked to talk big, and sometimes he even convinced her, but in the end he was only an Underlord. Saying that he wanted to bring them all to the level of Heralds or Monarchs was like saying he wanted to pull the sun out of the sky and stick it in his fireplace. She and Lindon could at least stick with him until he failed. Eithan looked into her eyes and smiled at what he saw there, which irritated her all on its own. He reached into his outer robe and pulled out a small bag, which clinked as he tossed it to her. She plucked it from the air and glanced inside. Three stones, smaller than her fist, each covered in scripts. Otherwise, they couldn't have looked

more different: one of them was a chunk of crystal, one looked like it was made of dull rainbows, and the third was a smooth scripted river-stone. She scanned them with her spiritual sense—lightly, so they didn't activate—to confirm that they were what she thought. "Dream tablets," Eithan said, which told her nothing about how useful they were. That was like saying they were 'books.' "Two of them, I took from the Transcendent Ruins. One is from a researcher who examined the Bleeding Phoenix directly, and the other is from the man who would become the Sage of Red Faith. They're his experimental Path notes as he learned how to cultivate his Blood Shadow. The third I added myself: it's the Arelius family library's analysis on the uses of a Blood Shadow." Yerin narrowed her eyes. There would be a hook in this somewhere. That all sounded too good to be true. Her spiritual sense slipped into one of the dream tablets, not enough to fully activate it, but enough to get a glimpse of what it contained. She saw a drop of blood transform: into a tiger, a wolf, a woman, a sword. Now it joins a thousand other drops, ten thousand, an ocean...and that ocean spreads its wings and lets out a searing cry. The earth and sky are stained in blood. She jerked her mind back, breathing heavily. Before Truegold, she would never have been able to process this dream tablet. A glimpse of it agitated her Blood Shadow; it took her a long moment to get it back under her control. "You were just...hanging on to these?" Yerin asked. "The Sage's tablet requires you to be at least Truegold and firm of mind to view it at all, and the other two contain techniques that are only useful once you have a certain spiritual strength and insight into your Blood Shadow." His smile brightened. "I hang on to a lot of things." Yerin hefted the bag, hearing the dream tablets clink. It excited her to think of everything she could learn from these, but she was still a little disappointed that this didn't have anything to do with the Path of the Endless Sword. She didn't want to rely on her Blood Shadow; she knew Lindon would use everything he came across, that was stone-certain. But her recent

breakthrough in the Endless Sword technique had made her think that maybe she could follow in her master's footsteps. "Looks like I owe you some thanks," she said. "Don't thank me yet," he said, and winked. "Once you're a new Sage, then you can thank me." ~~~ The underground chamber was cold and dark, lit only by the essence bleeding from a dying Remnant. Of all the prison cells Eithan had ever seen, this one ranked near the very bottom. Eithan pulled a chair from his void key and sat down. As he waited in the darkness, he watched his students do battle over fifty feet above him. His bloodline powers showed him the scene: Yerin and Lindon, both in their Skysworn armor, stood in the entrance of a shoddy bar. The patrons had scrambled to leave the second the Skysworn had shown up, some of them fading through the walls or crashing through windows. The place was now deserted except for the Skysworn and the half-dozen ragged murderers they had come to collect. This small organization had taken advantage of the influx of strangers into the capital, drugging people in the bar overhead, taking them downstairs, and then killing them for their Remnants. Some of the Remnants they sold to local Soulsmiths. Others, they had used for parts. They had been very careful to only abduct those without any family or connections, so their operation may have gone unnoticed by the Skysworn had Eithan not passed by this street the day before. Now, Yerin singlehandedly suppressed the room with the Endless Sword. Whenever one of them reached for a weapon, an invisible knife sliced across his skin. If one tried to move, chips of wood would fly up from a nearby table. Though she said not a word, the message was clear: she had them all prisoner. Meanwhile, Lindon—his eyes blackened—instructed the criminals to stay quiet and to keep their madra under control. They were to be detained and brought to trial. Orthos loomed behind him, blocking the main entrance and adding weight to his every word. Mercy, meanwhile, was perched on the building across the street. Her bow was drawn, a black arrow nocked, as she watched and waited for a fight to break out.

It would, Eithan knew. He could see the signs too clearly. As the murderers shouted and threw themselves into the hopeless battle, he stopped paying attention. He reached back into his void key—by habit concealing it as reaching into a pocket—and withdrew a pipe. He packed it and tamped it down as Yerin flew into the middle of the opponents, throwing them away from her with pulses of tightly controlled sword madra. The Sword Sage had really stumbled across a buried treasure. If only he had survived, he might really have been able to pass on his unique Sage techniques to his student. Eithan would have to make sure he honored the man's memory by serving his disciple well. Though nothing ever went as smoothly as it should. He'd meant for the dream tablets to be only one part of her gift. Nine or ten months ago, he'd commissioned Lezaar—the most accomplished refiner of the Arelius family—to craft him a very specific pill. But he had been ousted as Patriarch before the pill was finished, and hadn't returned since. As far as he knew, the rare and valuable ingredients he'd put into making this miraculous elixir might have gone to waste. Or the pill might have been taken by someone who would never appreciate it. He caught his frustration before it bloomed into anger, instead pulling out a scripted fire-starter and lighting the pipe. He didn't need the firestarter, strictly speaking, but he enjoyed using it. The script lit up one rune at a time as it spiraled down the wooden script, pulling in red fire aura as it did so, culminating in a burst of sparks when it reached the end. So satisfying. With nowhere to go, the smoke curled against the ceiling. He turned his attention to Lindon. He was relying almost entirely on Blackflame, using his pure madra as a backup, which was a shame. But he couldn't handle Eithan's techniques yet. Despite having practiced the Heaven and Earth Purification Wheel for a year and a half, he did not have the madra reserves yet. Nor could his spirit handle them before his channels and core were reinforced by advancing to Underlord. Of course, there were still other things Eithan could teach him about the use of pure madra. But he was spread out too thin as it was, trying to master two Paths, Soulsmithing, the madra in that arm of his, and the upgrades to his body and soul that he'd found in Ghostwater. By watching him move, it

was obvious to Eithan that Lindon had found a way to enhance his mind, which had pleased Eithan enough to make him dance a little jig. Privately. Eithan breathed out another mouthful of smoke. No, giving Lindon more to do would be counterproductive. What he really needed was time to adjust to the abilities he already had. But no matter how many times he told Lindon as much, Lindon took it as an excuse. Aboveground, Lindon smashed through a shield of madra and hauled a Highgold murderer up by her collar. Orthos stomped down on a man who tried to flee, Mercy put an arrow through a hand that tried to stab Yerin in the back, and Yerin sliced a spear in half. He smiled around the pipe. They moved with a confidence beyond their age. He couldn't have been prouder of them. And he couldn't wait to see where they went from here. Only one of the murderers escaped; the lookout. Eithan's students had never seen him. He had waited underground, veiled and peeking through a trapdoor. After seeing the Skysworn devastate his partners, he had scurried downstairs, pulling a scripted seal from his pocket. He was muttering to himself, a crazed smile on his face, as he approached the vault. His last resort. Eithan could see the thoughts written on his face: he was going to release their secret weapon. The puppet construct they had created for emergencies. Stitched together from Truegold Remnant parts, it had not been crafted by a true Soulsmith, and as such it was all but uncontrollable. He couldn't direct it; he could only unleash it. The murderer placed the seal against the vault door, and the greater script on the door shone brightly. Interlocking metal gears began to turn, and the door slowly ground open. The man laughed triumphantly as the vault was revealed, but his laughter slowly faded. He stood face-to-face with Eithan, who sat on a padded chair in his Skysworn armor, calmly smoking. Behind him, a monstrous puppetconstruct continued to dissolve into motes of rising light. Eithan blew smoke into the man's face.

Chapter 5 A few busy days later, Lindon and the rest of the team landed on Starsweep Tower to find Cassias Arelius waiting for them. He was flanked by two Truegold Skysworn, who must have escorted him to the top of the tower, but his bearing made them look like his attendants rather than his guards. He was only a few years older than Lindon, his curling hair the same blond as Eithan's. Rather than sacred artist robes, he wore a pressed shirt and pants of dark blue with silver trim, and he stood straight as Starsweep Tower itself. His hand rested on the hilt of a thin, silver sword that he wore at his hip. He glared at Eithan as the team landed, but he still spared a bow for the others. "Lindon, Yerin, Orthos. It has been too long. Your squad leader has been ignoring my messages." He shot another angry look at Eithan as he turned to Mercy. "I apologize, young lady. I am Cassias Arelius, and if you'll forgive me, I'd say you must be Akura Mercy." "Pleased to meet you, Cassias!" She bobbed an unsteady bow. "Thank you for lending us your Patriarch. He's always taking us to interesting places." If Yerin had said the same thing, it would have been sarcastic. Cassias looked surprised, and glanced over to Lindon and Yerin. "Yes, ah, that brings up what I'm here for. But first, Lindon and Yerin, you've… advanced. Of course you have. Congratulations to both of you." He didn't sound congratulatory, but weary, as though he suspected Eithan of pushing them far too hard. He had expressed concern for them before. But Yerin accepted his praise proudly, straightening her spine and lifting her chin, her sword-arms extending. Lindon bowed to Cassias in response. "Gratitude. We have been fortunate."

"I truly hope you're taking care of yourselves. Both of you. But I'm here because you haven't taken our Patriarch away from us. Eithan forfeited that title months ago." Lindon shifted uncomfortably, stealing a glance at Eithan. Yerin was staring at him openly, waiting for a response, and Mercy made a face that suggested she'd rather not be hearing this. Orthos let out a long breath of smoke, and through their bond, he felt resigned. Like he'd heard his most troublesome child had caused a problem once again. Eithan looked unconcerned, smiling gently as the wind pulled his long yellow hair behind him. He wore the emerald armor of the Skysworn more naturally than any of them, and Lindon had wondered more than once if he'd had the shape modified for style. "I've been making the most of my freedom since you stripped me of my position," Eithan said. "Making the Empire a better place one locked-up smuggler at a time." Cassias stepped forward, looking ready to draw his sword. "I did not strip you of anything, the branch heads did, and I took it on myself to inform you. And they had good reason. You don't do your job, Eithan! They cut off your funding and authority to force you to come back and face the family. The Emperor himself allowed it! And we've heard less from you than ever!" Eithan's smile grew tight. "You don't think we could do this somewhere more comfortable?" The sun was setting, and the wind was growing uncomfortably cold. Cassias threw up his hands. "I think you'll run off! I've spent the whole season trying to track you down, and now I think you'll disappear if I take my eyes off you for an instant! You always do that!" He did tend to do that a lot, Lindon realized. Though he appeared out of nowhere even more often. "Very well, then," Eithan said, and suddenly he radiated a presence that Lindon had only felt from him a handful of times before. It had nothing to do with the power of his spirit, which was still veiled. It was more subtle than that; a sense of authority, as though he was suddenly possessed by the Remnant of a king. "When I arrived from the homeland," Eithan said, "I agreed to take over the Patriarch position for the Blackflame branch of the clan, but I also made it clear to your father that I had plans and goals of my own. His memory is

short, for only seven years later, I find that he is dissatisfied with my level of service. Very well, then. Let it be as though I never traveled through that gate." His blue eyes were cold. "If you cannot trust me, then leave me to my own devices." Cassias actually did draw a few inches of his sword, releasing the power of his spirit. It was only then that Lindon noticed that he'd advanced; he was a Truegold now. Though, Truegold or Highgold, it was still suicide to throw himself at Eithan. Cassias shoved his sword back harshly, but his words carried his fury. "Trust you? Why?" His spirit was still unveiled, and he walked straight up to Eithan, unafraid, until they stood only a hand's breadth apart. Eithan was three or four inches taller, but Cassias stared him down. "You tell us that what you're doing is in the best interests of the family, but how are we supposed to know that? Do you know what it's like to have to take something like that on faith? Truly, I mean it, do you even know? Do you know how frustrating it is to not know everything?" Their blue eyes clashed for a long, frozen moment. Lindon knew they weren't closely related, but at the moment, they looked like brothers. To Lindon's surprise, Eithan was the first to soften. The intangible sense of authority faded. His shoulders slumped, and he raised an armored finger to rub his nose. "That…is…a…painfully valid point," Eithan finally admitted. Cassias did not relent. "Come to the family elders. Most of them are on their way here. You can meet them before the Emperor's deadline." Lindon and the team had spent much of their time over the last few weeks supervising the caravans of people traveling to Blackflame City to make the Emperor's two-month timeline. He had called upon all major factions to send their best, especially their strongest and most talented disciples. Lindon was vague on the details because the decree itself was. The Emperor did not see fit to explain his motivations to his Empire…or, at least, not in a publicly distributed command. Lindon gathered that the Blackflame Empire had gathered for a selection process, probably one

associated with the international tournament coming up, but he had little to go on other than that. Eithan probably knew the details, but that was to be expected. "I will not meet with them," Eithan said, holding up a hand to stave off Cassias' anger. "But I will resume my duties as an Underlord. Not as the Patriarch, but I can produce scales and supervise the distribution of our personnel here in the capital. I know that we're stretched to our limits with so many people in such a small area." Cassias took in a slow breath, then stepped back. "That will help. Thank you. But I have one further request." He looked briefly at Lindon and Yerin. "It would help our standing greatly if our family could take one of the positions in the Uncrowned King tournament. We would be practically guaranteed to replace the Jai clan." "Uncrowned King tournament?" Lindon immediately repeated. Yerin's eyes widened. "Bleed and bury me, that's the competition everyone's all riled up about? I don't even believe the Blackflame Empire can afford a seat to watch that tournament." Mercy looked to Yerin in surprise. "You're familiar with it?" Eithan smiled. "That doesn't surprise me. Her master famously made it to the top eight three tournaments ago." "If the sun fell from the sky and landed on your head, would that surprise you?" Yerin asked. Eithan pondered for a moment before answering, "Yes." Cassias took over the explanation. "The Heart Sage is choosing three Underlords from the young generation to represent the Akura vassal states in the tournament. I suspect Eithan—" "—already has his candidates picked out," Eithan said, throwing out his arms. "If it all works out, I'll be able to provide all three candidates. And two of them officially have the name 'Arelius,' so it still looks good for us." Lindon and Yerin traded glances. He was clearly pointing to them, and they had been adopted into the Arelius family. Cassias' eyebrows raised. "Three?" "Three?" Mercy repeated. Eithan met her eyes and smiled. "Three," he said. "…if everything works out, as I said." Cassias was quiet for a long moment, staring at Eithan and drumming his fingers on the hilt of his sword.

At last, he said, "I suppose I've taken everything else from you on faith. One more time won't kill me." ~~~ Two months since the Emperor had called for all the young Truegolds in the Empire to travel to the capital, Blackflame City was packed. In his emerald armor, standing on a broad raft of cloud, Eithan led their pack. Orthos huddled behind him, head withdrawn, and Lindon could feel his nerves. Mercy and Yerin followed afterwards, Mercy straddling her bow, and Yerin standing on a Thousand-Mile Cloud of her own. They all wore the green armor of the Skysworn, though Yerin looked no more comfortable in hers than she had two months ago. Little Blue sat on Lindon's collar, snuggling against his chin, though she was almost too big to do that anymore. She chirruped to him like a spirited bird. Somehow, Lindon thought she was talking about the view. [What? That's insane. Could you really? I don't think you could,] Dross responded. Then he lowered his mental voice. [She's a little too enthusiastic about flying, don't you think? You should watch her so she doesn't jump.] As nervous as Lindon had initially been about doing tasks for the Skysworn, he had ended up resting plenty over the last eight weeks. They often spent a few hours in travel to a simple job, and returned in time to eat, train, and sleep. Now that the Skysworn weren't treating them like prisoners anymore— at least, not usually—he was enjoying the life. Even Yerin wasn't pushing for them to do anything more adventurous; she seemed to enjoy this period of relaxation as much as he did. Today, Lindon let the chill of the early spring wind wash over him, warming himself from the inside with Blackflame madra. He still hadn't added anything to his Skysworn armor yet; he and Fisher Gesha were still studying it. Maybe they could arrange a heater with fire madra. Their squad drifted away from the floating city of Stormrock, which had arrived over Blackflame City almost a week before. Lindon looked far below him at the capital of the Blackflame Empire. It was surrounded by sharp, jagged walls of fractured obsidian so large that he wondered if they classified as mountains. Smaller gates had been carved through the walls all around, but the main gates rose as high as the

walls themselves. Each gate was flanked by a towering statue in the same black stone: one, an Emperor with a crown and a long tail. He balanced a carved flame on one extended palm. This long-past Emperor stood facing his counterpart, an Empress with a similar crown and long tail, an identical flame on her palm as well. Together, this Emperor and Empress stood watch over a city that dwarfed anything Lindon had ever seen. It was hard to determine distances from high up on Stormrock, but the imperial capital might have been the size of the entire Sacred Valley. And every inch of it was crammed with people. The crowds spilled out from every gate, backed up in lines miles long. An ocean of people battered against the walls like waves, waiting to filter into the already-teeming city. There were plenty of Skysworn missions to go around, now that they had arrived at the packed city. So much population packed into a small space was a recipe for disaster, and the Skysworn were in high demand. Normally, Eithan allowed them to select their own assignments and lead the way when completing them. This time, he had gathered them without telling them where they were going. They flew in the icy wind, trusting Eithan to lead them to a destination only he knew. That was enough to make Lindon suspect they were heading somewhere unspeakably dangerous. When they were a few miles out from the city walls, away from the roads, Eithan pointed to a cluster of hills. "We're setting down over there!" He went on about the lovely rolling grassland, but the wind swallowed every other word he spoke. When they finally landed—to Orthos' great relief—and withdrew their Thousand-Mile Clouds, they were left standing on a grassy hill among many grassy hills. They could see Blackflame City off in the distance, the Emperor and Empress still peeking out over the hills, but there was nothing else for miles. Eithan looked into the air as though he was watching the vital aura, though Lindon opened his Copper sight and saw nothing but the expected ribbons of color representing wind, earth, and life. "Perfect!" Eithan said at last. "We arrived a little earlier than expected, but better early than never, as they say. Now, listen to me carefully, as we

don't have much time." Little Blue chattered in his ear and pointed. Lindon followed her gesture and looked up. In the distance, swirling around the clouds, was a silver-and-violet speck. He didn't need to see any greater detail to know it was an owl. [That's not the same one,] Dross said confidently. [I can tell. No, wait...no, it is the same one. With those wings? One hundred percent sure. Hm. Wait...] Lindon wanted to bring up the owl, but Eithan had continued talking. "Now, when the massive pillar of darkness erupts in front of us, run into it. You're going to have to fight the urge to run away." Mercy's grip tightened visibly on her staff, and her spirit suddenly felt disordered. Lindon was standing behind her, so he couldn't see her face, but he thought he sensed a dangerous pressure from her. "...a pillar of darkness? How did you hear about this?' She didn't sound so cheery anymore. Eithan gave her a knowing smile. "See for yourself!" A deep thrum shook the earth, as though the hill on which they stood was a plucked string. From all around them, stone monuments covered in rings of script blinked into existence, embedded into the earth without disturbing it, as though they'd always been there. The closest one was only a few feet away. [Ah!] Dross shouted. [Are those...were those there before? Did you see those before now? Are your eyes working all right?] There were dozens of obelisks all over the hills. To Lindon, it looked like they formed a vast circle a mile or more across, and they were standing only a few feet outside the perimeter. With a sound like the breath of a giant swallowing the clouds, a wall of darkness blasted up from the ground. The darkness was contained within the monuments, shooting up into the heavens, a perfectly black column of madra and light-devouring power that covered up half of Lindon's view. Everything behind him was lit by a bright sun, and everything ahead of him consumed by night. Eithan had been right: Lindon's instincts told him to run, but he cradled Little Blue in one hand and started running. [Let's wait and think about this for a second,] Dross said. [I'm sure we can come up with a dozen reasons to...you're not listening. He's not

listening to me.] Yerin had stared in shock, sword drawn, bladed Goldsigns spread wide. Lindon grabbed her free hand and pulled her forward. She caught his momentum and started running. Mercy wasn't running, but she also hadn't hesitated. She marched toward the column, and when Lindon finally passed her, he glanced back to see that her face showed cold determination. Orthos, by contrast, had shot off running in the other direction. It seemed Eithan had anticipated that, because instead of entering the tower of darkness himself, he had grabbed the turtle's shell with both hands and shoved him back into the night. As Lindon rushed into the dark, a crushing weight pressed down on his spirit, but he braced himself as he had when running into the dark ocean of Ghostwater. Gritting his teeth, he plunged inside. ~~~ By the time Emperor Naru Huan sensed the massive pillar of darkness, he was ready. Today was the promised day. He stood on a balcony at the top of his Imperial palace in Blackflame City, waiting for the signal he'd been promised by the Akura family. This was it, and there could be no mistake. He walked out to the edge of the balcony, to get a better view of the column. He gestured with his wings, and he didn't need to extend his senses to know that his servants would be going to spread his orders. By that gesture, he had summoned all the leaders of the major factions from all over the Empire. They had gathered here in the capital for this event, and he would need to give them their instructions soon. As he stared at the mile-wide tower of shadow madra rushing into the sky, he saw a familiar chariot racing across the sky, pulled by horseRemnants with shining violet hooves. The Akura family chariot came to a stop over the palace, and the Sage of the Silver Heart stepped onto the top of her chariot. With her emergence, the sky turned purple. The blue of the sky was stained as though someone had spilled paint, slowly spreading until the Akura family colors filled the heavens. Over the capital, a symbol was traced in shining white light: the Akura family crest. One great star flanked by two smaller stars, all three floating over a

mountain range. Projected as it was, the stars looked real, the jagged mountains drawn in starlight themselves. Charity began to speak, and while Naru Huan was close enough to hear the voice from her own lips, every word was also transmitted from the massive symbol overhead. It boomed out so that she could be heard across the city, and likely for miles around. In the voice of heaven, the Sage spoke. "The darkness before you is a gate. It leads to a sacred land of opportunity, but for this opportunity, you must fight. Our family—" That titanic voice hesitated. "—our family requires the strongest of the young generation to fight for us. To bring honor to humanity, fortune to your Empire, and glory to yourselves..." She went on, but Naru Huan knew why her voice had faltered. She'd sensed the same thing he had a minute before, when he'd extended his perception at the appearance of the towering darkness. She had felt it a little later than he had, and her surprise had been enough to interrupt her planned speech. A small handful of people had been waiting at the base of the portal. They had rushed into it as soon as it had appeared. Upon seeing a massive pillar of black that stretched from the earth to the sky, who would willingly walk into it? Only someone who knew what it was and where it would appear. Naru Huan's lips twitched into a smile. Akura Charity continued. "Beyond this gate lies the Night Wheel Valley, which is filled with valuable treasures and great opportunity...but also great danger. We are seeking young Truegolds who wish to break through to Underlord, and young Underlords who wish to increase their power. Travel to our garden, and let your spirits grow." Naru Huan was still listening, but his thoughts had raced ahead of him. His servants would gather the Blackflame Underlords, who would bring all their servants and most promising students. At first, they would enter the portal and gather all the benefits they could from the other side. He hadn't been able to learn much about the Night Wheel Valley, but if it was valuable enough for the Akura clan to consider it a treasured territory, even an Overlord like himself might get some benefit out of it.

But eventually, they would have gathered everything they could safely. For that, they had to prepare defenses. Because there was an opponent in this game. ~~~ The elite of the Seishen Kingdom had gathered together in the Highborn Gardens to listen to the Sage speak. They were surrounded by carefully cultivated natural beauty: waterfalls spilling over carved miniature mountains, splashing into crystal-clear pools filled with bright fish. Trees with flower-bright leaves of orange, red, or pink provided shade for cushioned tables, around which the richest and most powerful in their kingdom shared sweet wine. There was a forced cheer to the atmosphere, as everyone pretended not to mind that the sky had turned purple, and a heavenly voice was decreeing their fates from a massive triple-star crest. Prince Seishen Kiro waited at the largest table, too nervous to touch his drink, though it gave off a tempting scent of berries and sunshine. That glass cost more than his monthly stipend, and had been poured only for a special occasion, but he couldn't appreciate it. Kiro's father, King Dakata, munched merrily on cakes and tiny pies, only occasionally glancing up to the sky. He had committed to this casual pretense more than anyone. Dakata had united this kingdom through the force of his own personal sword, and he looked like it: he was built like a castle wall and reminded Kiro of an aging bear. Kiro had inherited his father's size, but fortunately he had a somewhat more graceful appearance. He thought so, at least. His little brother Daji, seated a little further down the table, looked more like a wolf than a bear. A bad-tempered wolf. He slumped down in his chair, glowering at the Sage. More than anything else, Daji craved combat, and he never did anything to hide that. Not that the Sage of the Silver Heart would care what any of them looked like. From heights like hers, the Underlord princes of a small kingdom were nothing more than beetles crawling on the ground. "...go forth, for the future of the Seishen Kingdom...and for glory," Akura Charity finished. She spoke without the passion Kiro usually associated with speeches, but there was something about the weight of her delivery that made her

words effective. A cheer rose from the tables around him, led by his father, who brushed crumbs from his hands in order to clap. Kiro joined in, though he had given the actual announcement less than half his attention. He understood enough to realize that only honor would bind them once they were actually in the Night Wheel Valley. He was focused on that distant moment. But now the Sage's carriage drifted down, coming to land on the hill between a nearby pond and the royal table. Charity herself was still standing on top as the sky cleared, turning blue again. Kiro's stomach clenched. He had hoped she wouldn't come to address them directly. This was nothing but an opportunity for his family to embarrass themselves; what could they say to a Sage? Dakata rose, beaming, his arms spread as though for a hug. "Brilliant, Silver Heart, just brilliant! I have waited for an opportunity to show our worth to you ever since I took the crown!" Purple eyes took him in and passed over the rest of the table. The King chuckled. "As expected of a Sage! You see right to the heart of the matter." To Kiro's embarrassment, his father walked around the table and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "This is the Underlord who will do you proud in the tournament! I can't say for sure he'll keep up with the young disciples from your family, but if he's not the strongest Underlord of his generation in the vassal states, I'll eat my sword!" Dakata threw his head back and roared a laugh, as though he assumed everyone else would laugh along with him. A few people chuckled politely. Daji glared. He was two years younger than Kiro, but the fact that he was only Truegold burned him. He pushed himself too hard to catch up, and he seemed to take Kiro's every step forward as a personal insult. Kiro forced a smile at his father's words, feeling a surge of guilt. He wasn't even the strongest of the young Underlords within ten feet. "Please excuse my father," Kiro said smoothly. His training didn't go away even when he wanted to crawl in a hole and hide forever. "He is grateful for the chance to serve you, as are we all." Akura Charity glanced over him, then immediately pointed behind his shoulder. "Does that include the young Lady, as well?" It would be inappropriate to sigh in relief, so Kiro kept himself under control. Inwardly, he thanked the Sage for immediately seeing the truth.

The real strongest young Underlord in the Kingdom—and maybe among all the Akura's vassal states—stood behind him, tending to the trees. Riyusai Meira knelt at the roots of the red-leafed tree that gave them shade. She stroked a hand along its roots, massaging green light into the bark and whispering soothing words. When the Sage addressed her, she shot up, gray eyes wide. Though she was only twenty years old, her hair was as gray as her eyes, her skin pale, and her clothes drab. She would have looked colorless if not for her Goldsign: vivid green vines and pink flowers that grew out of her head and wove in and out of her hair. Kiro knew some of their peers found the contrast disturbing, but he had always considered it beautiful. After staring stiffly at Akura Charity for a moment, Meira threw herself bodily to the ground. "This servant does not dare to address the Akura Sage, but is grateful for the Sage's attention. It is the honor of her life to serve the first prince of the Seishen Kingdom." Kiro stared at Charity's impassive face, which looked even younger than his own. Mentally, he urged her to mention Meira. Though the gardener didn't seem to care herself whether she was singled out or not. Her first concern was, and had always been, for him. Dakata cleared his throat, stepping between Meira and Charity. "We do not have so many young Underlords that we can afford to overlook this...precocious Underlady, but her Path is intended for the maintenance of the palace grounds. This is the first time anyone of any power has come from her family, and while we are of course proud of her, my son's future growth is immeasurable." Kiro would have traded all that growth to the heavens for the guts to stand up to his father. This would be the time to say something; Dakata couldn't back down in front of a Sage. Meira is a genius. Someday, she will defend the Kingdom better than I ever will. Saying it might change Meira's future...but it also might change nothing. Maybe the Sage wouldn't care, and he would have infuriated and embarrassed his father for nothing. More importantly, he would have lowered the Seishen Kingdom's appearance in the eyes of the Akura family by contradicting his king in public. He couldn't do it.

Akura Charity looked to Meira again, but to Kiro's disappointment, she said nothing. Instead, she turned to Dakata. "Your Highness, I need you to understand what is at stake here." Dakata grew serious, clasping his massive hands together. "My mouth is shut, and my ears are open." "The Monarch factions do not move quickly," Charity went on. "The Uncrowned King tournament does not begin for fourteen months. However, I will make my selections before the first day of summer, so that I have time to personally prepare my recruits." Kiro's heart leaped. The Sage's personal attention was a valuable prize in itself. He saw Daji's jaw tighten; undoubtedly his little brother was redoubling his resolve to reach Underlord. With the instruction of a Sage, Meira would ascend to the heights she deserved. Kiro had to make sure she got that chance. And if they had only the remainder of winter and into spring, it meant they had five months. At most. The Sage's purple eyes were clear and direct as she looked at the King, as though she meant to impart a hidden message through her gaze alone. "The Night Wheel Valley will only remain open until the last day of spring, by which time I trust you will have reaped great benefits from its riches. It would also make my decision significantly easier if one party's young generation were to demonstrate itself decisively superior to the other." Kiro read the implication clearly. Of course, his father didn't miss it. Dakata chuckled. "Ah, and who among the Blackflame Empire has caught the eye of the famous Sage of the Silver Heart?" "How strange that you ask," Charity said, tone dry. "In fact, there is a young man—a Truegold—who was recently involved in the death of my own grand-nephew." The other nobles around the table, who until now had done a grand job of pretending to be somewhere else, audibly shifted in their seats or took in a breath. Kiro's little brother leaned forward hungrily; Daji would relish the thought of an enemy. Dakata's expression darkened, and Kiro's chest grew tighter. He hadn't realized how volatile this situation really was. The Akura family making their vassals compete wasn't terribly unusual, and might not escalate to the kind of combat he feared.

But if one of the enemy had killed a core member of the Akura clan, under such circumstances that the Sage felt like she couldn't act directly... "As you gather resources in the Night Wheel Valley, some clashes are inevitable," Charity continued. "I do not expect to lose talented members of the young generation, but I'm sure both sides would benefit from a…spar. And I would, of course, watch the results of such a contest closely." Kiro didn't see how he could possibly distinguish himself in a fight against a Truegold. On the surface, the Sage was simply using him to vent her frustrations on this Blackflame. But she was a Sage. There had to be more to it. It sounded like this situation was a better fit for… Daji stood up so fast that he almost knocked his chair over. He looked furiously eager. "A Truegold! He is mine. I will carve the difference between us into his body." Charity did not move her eyes from the King's face. "That would not be appropriate. As I said, I wish not to lose talented members of the young generation." "I swear to you on the name of our family that I will leave him alive to regret crossing you." Finally, Charity turned to him. "I will make myself clear. If you face Wei Shi Lindon before you reach Underlord, you will surely die." They were in a wide open space, but her voice seemed to echo, hanging in the air long after the words should have faded. Daji's mouth fell open a little, his face showing pure, almost comical shock. He had never faced a worthy opponent of his own advancement level. The very idea seemed to have ground his brain to a halt. Mentally, Kiro upgraded the Blackflame Truegold to an actual threat. If he was so much better than other Truegolds his age, then he could not be allowed to advance to Underlord. "Say no more," King Dakata said. "Describe him to my oldest son, and you have only to sit back and watch." Charity looked to Kiro, who stood up straight, focusing on the Sage's chin. He was too afraid to look into her eyes. "As first prince of the Seishen Kingdom, I swear to serve you with all my ability." He felt Meira behind him. This would be his way of living up to her expectations. If they could both be selected by the Sage, then he would thank the heavens. If they couldn't, he could push her forward.

He could not match her in the sacred arts, but at least he could do his duty.

Chapter 6 The darkness blinded more than only Lindon's eyes. All his senses, his spirit, and his Copper sight shut down one step at a time. Little Blue trembling against his Remnant fingers vanished first, and then the feel of Yerin's hand in his. There was a rushing sound in his ears, until even that faded to silence. The presence of the others—the subtle force of their spirits—faded away, until he felt more alone than he had since leaving Sacred Valley. He had never realized how much he relied on spiritual sense until now; even Orthos' existence in his soul disappeared. It was like being Unsouled again. His instinctive reaction was to panic, to flail around and grasp for what he was missing, but he restrained himself. If Little Blue was still in his hand, and only his sensation of touch was missing, he could crush her if he lost control of himself. If they had been teleported separately, then she would be safe either way. The important thing was to stay calm. But with his senses stripped away, he hung in an endless abyss. Completely alone. [I don't know that I've ever been anywhere this dark before,] Dross said. [There's always something around that glows. It used to be me.] He sighed. [I miss glowing.] Lindon seized on the company. Dross! Are we being taken somewhere? [Oh, yes. Classic spatial transmission. Here's a funny story: when Northstrider first tried to develop transportation gates to and from Ghostwater, everyone he sent into them died! They just, pop, blew apart! Even the slightest error results in messy, horrible death.] The darkness retreated, Lindon's senses fading back in with the smell of wet earth and the comforting sensation of friends all around. Little Blue had scampered out of his palm and up to his shoulder. She gave a long whistling

sigh when she saw him again, throwing cold arms around his neck. Yerin's hand was still in his, and she squeezed tighter when she felt him there. [Ah, there we are. Nothing to worry about, as I expected.] They stood on a grassy field, staring down the length of the Night Wheel Valley. It was well named. The broad valley was shrouded in darkness, with black clouds covering any trace of the sun. Most of the dim light came from purple lightning flashes deep within the clouds, and the long grass at Lindon's feet blew in a wet breeze. Like a hurricane, the clouds swirled in a slow vortex over the entire valley, with the glow of purple lightning most intense at their center. Lindon had to assume that was the Night Wheel. The valley ran between mountains on the east and west. While the western mountain was largely blanketed in trees, the eastern mountain was absolutely covered by what looked like one massive castle of black stone. Crenellated walls rose in layers up the side, marked by towers that blazed with purple bonfires. Windows and arrow-slits throughout the huge fortification shone with orange or purple light—the orange seemed to come from natural fire, and the purple from runes. He could see a few scriptcircles burning purple even from this distance, and for him to see them at this distance, each rune must be the size of a horse. The spiritual pressure coming off that massive building was overwhelming. It pressed against his spirit like a lurking nightmare, until Lindon wished he could return to the darkness he'd just left. Most of the valley, like the mountain to the west, was covered in trees. He couldn't see the far end of the valley because of the trees, except for the tower of darkness that rose from the ground to the sky. It was identical to the one on their side, which caused Lindon to put a few pieces together. If there was a gate, that meant someone else would be coming through it. Of course the Akura family wouldn't simply give them an opportunity; they had to make it into a competition. The trees were difficult to see in the gloom, and upon further investigation, he could see that their leaves were black with faint lines of pulsing light running through them like veins. The bark was dark gray. They reminded him of the trees in the Desolate Wilds, though those plants had been corrupted by some disease. These didn't feel unhealthy;

they radiated a sense of life, like any other trees, but somehow muted. As though he hadn't entirely shaken off the suppression of the portal's darkness. Orthos poked his head out of his shell, looking around. "It was a gateway?" He gave a loud humph and bit a chunk out of a nearby blackened tree. Even its wood was a pale gray. "You should have said so," he complained, through a mouthful of splinters. "Who has time for thorough explanations?" Eithan asked, then pointed to Mercy. "Now, Mercy, where are we?" Mercy had set her jaw, her eyes fixed on the massive house to the east, her staff gripped firmly in both hands. "This is one of my family's properties," she said. "I didn't live here, but it's where I was trained." Suddenly, the massive spiritual presence in the castle took on ominous significance. "Does that mean, in the house..." Lindon was afraid to finish the sentence. From what Mercy had said before, he suspected the Akura Monarch could sense her name spoken anywhere in the world. "Maybe," Mercy said grimly. "My mother doesn't live here, but she visits from time to time. Her presence…lingers." She pointed with the dragon head on the end of her staff, and its eyes flared with violet light. "This valley is like our family garden. I used to cycle out here when I was a little girl. The vital aura here is strong, and we have every aspect you can think of. "Of course, the strongest aura here is shadow. It covers everything." Lindon could already feel that was true. Everything was soaked in darkness, and it felt like a ghost was running fingers down his spirit. He already wanted to turn back. "This place is full of natural treasures," she continued, and Lindon immediately throttled the urge to leave. "It's where we grow them, so to speak." The air seemed to push against Lindon. He felt heavier, and simultaneously hotter and colder. That couldn't entirely be explained by shadow aura, so he opened his Copper sight. And immediately regretted it. A canvas of solid black pushed against his eyes, with lines of bright color burning against it. It was so stunning that it seared his spirit, and he cried out, hurriedly shutting his senses.

Yerin moved her hand to his arm, checking to see what was wrong, and Little Blue gave an inquisitive peep. Dross hissed in sympathetic pain. [For you, looking directly at the aura here is like staring into the sun with your human eyes, so try not to do that. You probably could have used that warning a minute ago, but uh…lesson learned! Let's call that a win for practical education.] "The aura density here is far greater than it was in the Transcendent Ruins," Eithan announced. "Cycling aura here will be much faster than back home, which will make reaching Underlord that much easier! Half of the reason that Underlords are so rare in the Blackflame Empire is that the aura is so thin, reaching the peak of Truegold becomes difficult. So for us, the opportunity to train here is a treasure all its own!" "That's…more than nothing, but how about the real treasures?" Yerin asked. "That is the correct question! Your first step is to reach the pinnacle of Truegold and open a soulspace. You can get there with time...or with money. This place is a treasure trove. We are the first ones here." Eithan didn't say any more, clearly waiting for them to take over. He didn't need to say anything; Lindon understood. "Mercy and Eithan are the two guides," Lindon said. "Split up, cover more ground. Orthos and I should be separated. Go to the closest source of treasure, clean it out, and send a signal through your armor when you have. Then we'll assign new hunting spots so we don't waste time covering the same ground..." He realized he was giving orders. He had grown used to making the decisions for his little group in Ghostwater, and doing missions for the Skysworn over the last two months, Eithan had kept himself out of command. Lindon had often slipped into the role, but why? This was Mercy's home, Yerin was stronger than he was, and Eithan was the only Underlord. Lindon flushed and looked down at the ground. "...unless anyone else has another suggestion." "We don't," Yerin said, turning to Mercy. "Lead the march. You, me, and Lindon. The turtle can go with Eithan." "I look forward to catching up with my old friend Orthos!" Eithan said, leaping over to the sacred turtle. "And my old friend Yerin!" Yerin stopped in place. "...what?"

"Every second we spend talking is a second we're not stealing! Begone with you!" So Lindon and Mercy headed off together, trying to pretend they didn't see Yerin staring dejectedly after them. ~~~ Delving into the forest was like plunging into a dark, icy cave. The wind howled through the trees, fire madra doing little to ward off the cold, and unseen things shifted and hissed in the shadows...perhaps the shadows themselves. Mercy had lightened up as they ran through the forest, and now she looked around with fondness. "I used to go on picnics out here," she said. "This way!" In only minutes, she led them to the edge of a short cliff. The drop was only ten feet down, and they overlooked a clearing about fifty yards square. It radiated an aura so forbidding that it stood out even from the deep shadows of the forest around it; Lindon shivered and slowed as they approached the cliff, afraid to glance down. But Mercy walked up and looked around without fear, so he followed suit. Beneath them, filling the clearing, was a small battlefield. Skeletons littered the ground, rusted weapons sticking out of the earth. At first, it looked as though armies had clashed here, but all the skeletons were facing the same way. So an army had been obliterated here. Between the bodies were brown grass and petrified vines, as though nothing could survive entering the clearing. The whole scene was shrouded in shadow like the rest of the Night Wheel Valley, but a spectral green light gave the field of death an otherworldly glow. At first, he couldn't make out the source of that light. "The Valley has been in our family for generations," Mercy said, walking to a row of long spears that had been driven into the ground on the edge of the cliff. The spears were covered in scripts, and were connected to the ground by long coiled-up cables. Their spearheads were dull. "The aura is so strong here that every big event leaves a permanent mark. This is where the Nutarou family tried to storm our house, believing that the family of shadow-artists living there was just a myth to keep them off the land." She lifted a spear. "Their Remnants are long gone. "Now, it's filled with death aura."