by Will Wight
The bustle reminded Lindon of the Five Factions Alliance in the Desolate Wilds, but when he emerged from the trees, he realized how wrong he’d been.
This was on a greater scale entirely. It looked like an entire nation on the move.
The ground for miles on either side—so far away that the distance was choked in shadow—was covered in an army streaming from the portal. The sky was packed with ships, and the earth with carts and wagons, all bearing the symbols of different Blackflame Empire factions.
He spotted mobile gardens pulled by the Redflower family, small contingents of servants under the banner of the Arelius family, emerald-winged flyers from the Naru clan, massive stone elephants draped with the emblem of the Kotai clan, small Skysworn squads here and there, and dozens of flags and symbols that he couldn’t identify.
His spiritual sense was suppressed by the overwhelming shadow aura of the Night Wheel Valley, and he couldn’t even see as far as normal, but the scope overwhelmed him. It looked as though every land they’d passed on their cloudship journey from Ghostwater had been squeezed empty of people, though he knew that couldn’t be the case. The Emperor had called to Blackflame City only the strongest and most influential, as well as their servants and staff.
So this was the power of the Blackflame Empire.
Without discussion, they all boarded their Thousand-Mile Clouds and took to the air, Eithan expanding his to accommodate Orthos. An official on a red cloud was directing streams of air traffic, though in their Skysworn armor, they were allowed to pass easily.
Eithan wove deftly through the chaos, and Lindon didn’t question that he knew where he was going. He led them down the outer edge of the army of settlers, where people were starting to find space to stop their wagons or begin erecting shacks.
They landed near a half-completed barn, where an ancient, miniature woman with her hair in a tight bun was ordering a squad of workers. And a bustling contingent of purple spiders.
“That’s worth more than you and me put together,” Fisher Gesha snapped at a young man unloading a huge wooden chest. “You want me to carry it myself, hm?”
Purple spider-legs of Forged madra stretched out from beneath her, raising her to ordinary height, and a hooked blade of gleaming goldsteel hung on her back. Lindon had seen her only a few days before, but he still wasn’t used to feeling her with the strength of a Truegold…although he supposed that went both ways.
“Fisher Gesha!” Eithan said pleasantly. “How wonderful to find you here.”
Gesha turned to stare at him through her mask of wrinkles. “Underlord. I can’t say that I’m pleased to see you wearing…that. Is this a work visit, then? Are you here for the Skysworn?”
Eithan put on a shocked look. “Fisher, what could you have done to possibly offend the Skysworn? I am here merely to pick up my order.”
She snorted. “Only finished this morning, and that was quick, mind you. Quick. Should have known you’d be sniffing around two seconds after I…”
Gesha continued grumbling as she dug through one chest after another, placing some gently aside and hurling others away so that they tumbled over the dirt.
Finally, she emerged with an ornately carved and delicately scripted chest, slightly bigger than Lindon’s two hands together.
Eithan reached for it, but she didn’t hand it to him.
“I don’t want to cast doubt on the Underlord’s reputation, but how about payment, hm? Easier for all of us.”
“Your words are especially sharp today,” Eithan said, which Lindon had noticed too.
“Apologies if I overstep myself,” Lindon said, “but it is nice to see you in such a good mood.”
Gesha’s lips twitched up in the smallest possible smile. She must have been excited to enter the Valley. Or perhaps for the business opportunities in his massive army.
Eithan placed both hands together, exhaled, and then a perfect blue-white scale appeared in his hand. Shaped like a coin, it radiated the power of an Underlord—this would be considered a superior-grade scale in the Blackflame Empire.
A scale had to be the perfect size, quality, and density, which could be measured by several common devices, but Gesha took this one and swept it with her spiritual sense.
The design of the coin didn’t matter, but Eithan had managed to Forge a sketch of a face in profile on one side. Lindon didn’t have to look any closer to know that it was Eithan’s face.
Gesha pocketed the scale, then waited. “Four,” she said.
“Right you are,” Eithan agreed, and reached into his pocket. “Remember this, Lindon: even if you have the madra reserves to make as many scales as you want, you should never Forge more than a few per day. A properly Forged scale, of sufficient density and stability, is difficult to produce and must be created all at once. It strains the madra channels. Too much can result in permanent damage.”
He pulled three more coins from his pocket and sighed. “But it’s so much more impressive to pull money out of thin air.”
Gesha snatched up the scales, idly scanned them, and then put them in her own pocket. Only then did she hand the chest over to Eithan.
He turned to them, holding the box out proudly. “Gather ‘round, children, gather ‘round!” he announced.
Lindon could feel Dross staring. Little Blue climbed out of his pocket and slid up to the top of his head. Yerin looked as though she’d exerted all her effort not to roll her eyes, and Mercy was leaning forward in excitement.
Orthos blew smoke. “Children?” he said, but Eithan had moved on.
“Behold, the wonders I commissioned on your behalf on the very day of our reunion, more than eight weeks ago. Four constructs of such power and delicate complexity that they straddle the border between elixir-refining and Soulsmithing itself.”
“Made me split the commission with a refiner,” Gesha grumbled. “Can’t stand working with them, can I? They always stink.”
“Ladies, turtle, spirit, one-armed man, for your enrichment and education, I present to you…the Heaven’s Drops.”
With a flourish, he flipped open the lid of the box.
Four orbs about the size of Suriel’s marble drifted up, hovering in midair over the box. They were transparent orbs of a dull gray-green, wrapped in rings of Forged script. Dim color swirled inside, and each orb spun slowly in place.
They looked…bland. As though they’d been made from Iron-level Remnants that weren’t quite stable. They felt weak to Lindon’s spiritual senses. Even Mercy looked skeptical, but Dross was making appropriately amazed noises. Lindon wasn’t sure if he knew enough to really be impressed, or if he was excited by Eithan’s dramatic presentation.
“Truly, each of these is a bottled miracle,” Eithan went on. “These special constructs can be taken like a pill, even by those who have not opened their soulspace. They will sit in your spirit and improve the quality of your cycling. For those as close to the peak of Truegold as you three, they will help you gain control of your souls in only a few short weeks!”
“…these?” Yerin asked, and the one word dripped with doubt.
“Ah, but these are incomplete! The Heaven’s Drops must be catalyzed with a soul-strengthening elixir before they are taken. Depending on the quality of that elixir, the Heaven’s Drop can be nothing more than a minor benefit, or a permanent transformation that will reshape your entire soul.”
Mercy looked around. “Oh, did you bring the elixir too?”
“I have prepared some,” Eithan said, “to the best of my limited abilities and resources. Alas, the supply of truly great elixirs in the Blackflame Empire is…nonexistent. I would certainly be grateful if someone had a soul-strengthening elixir of a higher grade.”
Mercy looked regretful. “I’m sorry, but I’m all out. I only brought a few. I have a few plants left…”
“If only someone,” Eithan said loudly, “had access to a substance that strengthens and refines the soul. One that might be prepared in a Monarch’s pocket world, for
instance.”
Lindon sighed, reaching out for his void key. He should have known that he could never keep a secret from Eithan.
“Some kind of, oh, let’s say, spirit-enhancing water…”
“Please,” Lindon said. “I understand.”
He would usually be excited that Eithan had found a way to maximize the power of the water, but this time he felt defeated. If Eithan had known, why hadn’t he said anything? And now offering the water to Yerin had meant nothing.
He glanced to Yerin as he opened the void key, and she gave him a sympathetic look. His supply of Spirit Well water was getting low. Yerin had used it only sparingly in the last two months, but he had taken some himself, to push his pure core closer to Truegold. He only had three bottles left.
While he wanted to see the water’s effect on these pills, it was no longer entirely his to give away.
“I promised this to Yerin,” Lindon said. “This is her decision to make.”
Eithan turned gravely to Yerin.
“Would you allow me to use the remainder of this water? I assure you, we will be maximizing its benefits.”
Yerin chewed on her lip for a while, watching Eithan. She wasn’t trying to make up her mind, Lindon knew—she was choosing her words.
“Just so you know, I’d contend that Cassias had a good point. It really scrapes you raw dealing with somebody who always knows best.”
Eithan gestured, and Lindon took the bottles from the void key. Why resist? If the Heaven’s Drops worked as claimed, Eithan was giving them a great gift, even if it still felt like Lindon had lost somehow.
“What about when they really do know best?” Eithan asked.
“Even worse,” Orthos rumbled.
“I should have known you’d see the key,” Lindon said, handing over the bottles.
“I tried to respect your desire not to discuss it,” Eithan said. “But now that it’s all out in the open, let me say: you have truly exceeded my expectations. Strengthening your body like that must have been painful. Ghostwater was a treasure trove for you, but I know it pushed you to your limits. I could not be more proud of my disciple.”
He spoke so earnestly that it soothed Lindon’s disappointment. Eithan liked to show off, but he also always pushed Lindon forward.
Eithan threw his arms wide. “And quickening your mind! I had a sixteen-step plan for perfecting you as a Gold, but I couldn’t believe it when I saw you move. Mental enhancement at Gold is a rare and valuable thing. You have a stronger foundation than I ever dared to hope, and thanks to Northstrider, we’re ahead of schedule!”
His phrasing caught Lindon’s attention.
Dross, has he not scanned you? Lindon asked.
[You know, I don’t think so, but now I’m questioning it. I’m starting to wonder if he can see thoughts.]
“Once you reach Underlord, then your real training can finally—”
With a gentle effort, Lindon pushed Dross out of his palm.
The spirit manifested, one-eyed and purple, and raised one of his stubby arms in greeting.
Eithan froze in mid-speech, his wildly gesticulating arms stopping in the air.
[These things can be awkward, can’t they? I know who you are, but I’m not sure if you know who I am. Do you know who I am?]
Lindon imprinted Eithan’s expression of pure astonishment in his memory forever.
Eithan slowly lowered his arms. His spiritual sense swept through Dross, and then—in a focused probe—flicked through Lindon’s spirit. He focused especially on the spot at the base of Lindon’s skull where Dross usually lived.
“I had no idea,” Eithan breathed. “Even now…if I couldn’t see you before me, I would have no idea there was a spirit inside him. With a fully formed consciousness and madra system. Tied to…” His eyes widened, and he slowly shut the box of Heaven’s Drops, setting them to one side. “…tied to his brain…”
He waved frantically at the bustle around him, where workers and spiders were still moving around them. Some glanced curiously over at them, but most continued setting up Fisher Gesha’s barn.
“Fisher!” he shouted. “Would you clear the area for us, please?”
Gesha gave a loud ‘harrumph.’ “Underlord or no Underlord, if you’re walking into my place of business and telling me to clear out—”
Eithan pulled out one of the sacks of natural treasures, which—at Lindon’s rough guess—was worth enough to buy Gesha’s entire business. He shoved it at her, as well as reaching into his pocket and throwing an entire purse of scales after it, and Forging another superior-grade scale out of nowhere. He pushed it all at her, adding, “You can return if you like, but keep everyone else away.”
Gesha’s eyes bulged almost out of her head. “Right away! Never said I wouldn’t do it, did I? All of you! Drop what you’re holding! Drop it on the ground and get away!”
As the spiders and workers scurried away, Eithan fumbled behind him for a seat, pulling it up.
“I’m not used to asking this,” Eithan said. “What happened?”
So, with a certain pride, Lindon told his story in Ghostwater from the beginning. From finding Dross in the Dream Well, combining him with the Eye of the Deep, to upgrading him over the entire facility. All the way to the end, when they completed Northstrider’s grand work.
Orthos crawled off to chew on some nearby lumber—he had been present for the entire story. But everyone else, even Little Blue, listened attentively. He skimmed the parts with Harmony, for Mercy’s sake, though that left some holes in the story at the end.
He had shared most of these details with Yerin already, but not everything. He hadn’t had a chance. Now, he was glad to have the whole story out there. Fisher Gesha returned at some time in the middle, listening quietly.
Dross popped in every once in a while to add a correction or embellishment, but for the most part Lindon was allowed to tell the story without interruption.
When Lindon finished, Eithan sat quietly, hands pressed together, staring off into the distance. The darkness of the Night Wheel Valley settled around them, the wind cold.
In the end, he turned to Dross. “If I’m not gravely mistaken, then you are only a seed of what you will eventually become.”
[I don’t like to think of myself as a seed. Not very flattering, is it? Maybe an egg, but a really nice egg.]
“Oh, we will make sure you grow. Yes…” Eithan’s smile slowly widened until Lindon would have called it manic. “Planted in the fertile soil of Lindon’s spirit, we will grow you until you dwarf Dreadgods and tower over Monarchs! The world itself will struggle to contain you! When I fear I have set my sights too far, I find that I was not ambitious enough! Who will dare to hold us back when we have such an ally? Let the day you completed Northstrider’s work be known as the day that the very foundations of history trembled!”
He cackled like a madman, and Lindon honestly couldn’t tell if it was for theatrical effect or not.
A thread of doubt wormed over from Orthos, Yerin folded her bladed arms in front of her, and Mercy looked at Eithan askance. Little Blue pressed herself against Lindon’s head and shivered.
Dross, by contrast, laughed along with him. [Aw, go on! No, really, please continue.]
~~~
Eithan spread the four Heaven's Drops before him, hanging gray and dull in the air.
“What you are about to experience is a myth for many Golds. It is their life's ambition. The glory their families strive for.”
He lifted a bottle—provided by Lindon—over his head.
“Let's get it over with, shall we?”
He tipped the first bottle over a Heaven's Drop, spilling vivid blue water into the hovering construct.
Lindon, Yerin, and Orthos sat before Eithan in a lonely hollow amidst the darkened woods of the Night Wheel Valley. They hadn't sold any of their natural treasures in the camp, but had instead traded a few. They now had packages that exuded aura of many different aspects waiting for them nearby.<
br />
Mercy was next to them, but she didn't sit. She stood, toying with her staff, a complicated expression on her face.
The Spirit Well water fell into the construct and was absorbed, as though the energy drank it down. As the water vanished, the Heaven's Drop grew brighter and brighter, from a transparent and colorless gray-green to an almost blinding emerald. The scripted circles around the outside of the construct spun faster, until it spat out bolts of vivid green lightning.
Eithan stopped his pour precisely at that point, reserving the last of the water in the bottle.
“Orthos, if you would,” Eithan said. “Age deserves consideration.”
Orthos approached the Heaven's Drop, but not with the excitement Lindon had expected. Instead, the turtle felt resignation, almost fear. As though he had dreaded this day.
Other than when he was forced to fly, Orthos never showed this sort of apprehension. Lindon wanted to ask what was wrong, but the turtle snapped up the Heaven's Drop in an instant.
His madra began to swell almost immediately, growing more dense and potent by the second. Eithan had told them the effects would be quick, but in Lindon's experience, pills and elixirs always took time to cycle. Even the Spirit Well water worked best over time.
Eithan repeated the process with the second Heaven's Drop, emptying the first bottle and beginning on the second. When it shone like a green star and shot out lightning, he beckoned Yerin forward.
Yerin showed all the eagerness that Lindon had expected from Orthos; she couldn't swallow the construct and return to her seat fast enough, taking a cycling position.
While Eithan prepared the third construct, Lindon watched Yerin. He couldn't feel her spirit as clearly as he could his contracted sacred beast's, but he still sensed her growing stronger. In only seconds, her Goldsigns grew more solid and defined, as though they had been cast in real physical steel.
Then they slid back into her back.
More advanced Truegolds gained control over their Goldsigns, but the degree seemed to differ depending on the Goldsign itself. He hadn't imagined that she would be able to withdraw them like that, and seeing her without the sword-arms sticking out of her back felt incomplete. Like he was seeing her without her real arms.
