by Will Wight
Now, even this Highgold girl was looking down on him.
In more than one way.
She stared down at him from the ceiling with those purple eyes, hanging from her black strings, mocking him. She kept slipping through his hands like a fish, and to make matters even more humiliating, she even found the time to launch an arrow at him every now and then. They didn't hurt him, but they might make him trip a step or blind him for a second, and then he found she had scampered even further away.
By this point, as she pulled him further down the hallway like a mouse leading a cat, his rage was making it hard to breathe.
“STOP RUNNING!” he roared.
An arrow smacked him in the face.
“No!” Akura Mercy said, and he felt her running again.
Daji wasn't sure what he did next, but somehow he activated the armor that his father had given him. Its power Enforced him without costing him any madra, and he blasted down the hallway. A yellow light flared on the floor beneath him as a Ruler technique gathered up loose stones and dust and turned them into deadly projectiles, which flashed at the Highgold.
His grin was furious, though she couldn't see it through his helmet. He gripped his swords, seeing her avoiding the pebbles that flew at her faster than arrows. He almost had her.
The whole vault shook, and there was a flash of light and power behind him.
He skidded to a stop, boots scraping on the stone floor. That had come from his brother's direction.
He couldn't see much from his vantage point, but he saw dust and flying stones. That hadn't been Kiro attacking, he was sure of it. Kiro had poured everything he had into defense.
Why did Kiro get the real fight, while Daji had to play catch-the-mouse?
He hated to let his prey go, so he turned to look back over his shoulder. “Stay right there,” he said. Then he ran for Kiro.
There was another thundering crash, and he was filled with regret. He was missing an actual fight. Kiro and Meira had told him that these Truegolds could stand up to Underlords, but he hadn't believed them. Now, they had stuck him with the—
Something grabbed his foot as he ran, and he tripped, slamming headfirst into the floor.
He kept a grip on both his swords, but he was sprawled out on his chest. Behind him, there was a steady chuff-chuff-chuff as his armor's Ruler construct kept launching stone missiles.
He craned his head to look at his foot, where a sticky tendril of black madra gripped his ankle.
Mercy dipped around a rock, launched an arrow, smacked another rock out of the air, and launched an arrow. It was a display of skill he would have never thought he'd see out of anyone below Underlord.
Each black arrow stuck where it landed, spreading into sticky goo, but the ones that hit him in the armor had another technique embedded in them. They burned his soul and his flesh, eating into the constructs of his armor, a hungry acidic venom that chewed at him. They couldn't do much against his soulfire-enhanced body, but they stuck up the joints in his armor and interfered with the scripts.
Then she tripped.
The next pebble pelted her, and she cried out in pain. Now she was under pressure herself, doing everything she could to defend herself. She had been trapped.
He slowly pushed himself to his knees, tearing free of the black webs. More arrows came, but he knocked them aside with his swords.
It was strange; he felt so angry that his body could not contain it all. Like his wrath had gone beyond him and was controlling him from the outside.
That was it. He was done.
His armor was almost out of power, but he used the last of the fading Enforcer technique to rush down the hallway. Mercy saw him, Forging a string to pull herself up to the ceiling.
He'd seen that trick before.
He triggered the Striker bindings in both his swords. Blue crackling light lanced from his blades, one slicing through her string, one stabbing at her chest. Her green breastplate split under the attack, sending her tumbling backwards. But it hadn't killed her; the armor had done its job.
Daji Forged both blades to a massive size with the Titan's Blade technique. With the strength of an Underlord, he slammed them both down on her. It was enough force to spray her all over the stone.
When he removed his swords, he saw she was covered in purple crystalline armor. A full suit, like his. And she was giving off the pressure of a peak Truegold; had she advanced? Had she always been Truegold, but hiding her power? And how many layers of armor did she have, anyway?
Not that he cared.
He slammed his massive blades down on her, again and again. The armor she wore looked Forged, like his Goldsign breastplate. It looked like it had grown onto her, not like it had been crafted by Soulsmiths, and it didn't crack.
But it would sooner or later. And beating on her was healing his mind.
Finally, he paused. The armor dissolved, and she writhed on the floor. Her eyes looked like they were made of the same purple crystal her armor had been, but they soon retreated back to normal. Her spirit returned to Highgold, and she gasped for breath.
With a shaky smile, she pushed herself up on her bow, which had now straightened into a staff. “I lose,” she said quietly.
Daji released his Forger technique, letting the increased length of his blades dissolve back into essence. He stood over her, swords in his hands, panting with effort, but he didn't quite feel the satisfaction of victory yet.
So he slammed the flat of his blade into the side of her head.
She almost flipped in the air as she collapsed, making a sound like a dying cat. It made him feel better.
“You think you have it that easy?” he asked her.
Of course she did. She was an Akura.
Her whole family looked down on him.
He put his boot on her arm, pinning her down so she couldn't move. Then he pulled off his helmet to look her in the eyes. They were filled with fear...but not as much as he'd expected.
He crushed her arm, which broke with the sound of splinters. This time, she didn't make much of a noise, but her eyes went as wide as they could possibly go. She gasped until her lungs were full, trying to pull in more air, and she writhed. He kept her arm pinned.
She had wasted his time.
He took his boot off of her, looking down, trying to decide whether to kill her or not. His anger had slackened a little, now that he'd had a chance to let it out, and it would be stupid to kill her. He knew that. He was in the basement of an Akura fortress.
He resented having to do what they told him just because they were stronger, but he wasn't entirely stupid. For now, he had to listen to them. And when he got stronger than everyone else, they would do what he said.
Daji spat at Mercy's feet in disgust, about to walk away.
Mercy forced out her next words. “Don't...kill them,” she said, between pained breaths.
Daji stopped.
“Just...leave, okay? Take...your...victory. Don't...ruin it...now.”
Even while begging for her life, she was still telling him what to do. On the brink of death, the Akura still thought she could command everyone with her family name.
Her lips were pale and trembling, but she pushed them into a smile. “...please?” she added.
Anger rose up in him, ugly and hot. “Maybe I can’t touch you,” he said, “but the Sage doesn’t care about your friends.”
Daji turned to leave, hefting his swords in both hands. He had beaten her, but he hadn’t truly won yet. Only crushing all three of them would be a true victory.
He had taken the first step when motion caught the corner of his eye. He raised his blades, spinning back to battle.
Akura Mercy threw herself on his swords.
The weapons pierced her ribs, and her purple eyes widened in pain from only inches away. For a moment, he stood frozen in shock. She had pushed herself to her feet, stumbled over to him, and intentionally lunged into his blades. She hadn’t even tried to defend herself.
Was everyone in the Akura family insane?
Daji shook off his surprise, marching back to the fight. He didn't care about a Highgold Remnant. His armor was almost out of power, but he could tear it off and fight without it.
The Sage of the Silver Heart wouldn't be happy with him for killing an Akura clan member, but it had been an accident. Surely she would see that. If he was able to fight in the tournament and win glory for them, they'd forget all about this. As always, strength was the deciding factor.
Daji's body stopped.
A second later, his thoughts stopped.
And darkness flooded the vault.
Chapter 19
Information requested: Akura Mercy, daughter of Akura Malice.
Beginning report…
Even by the standards of the Akura clan, Mercy is born a genius.
The strength of the Akura bloodline legacy varies among the children of the clan; many must have their ability strengthened with elixirs while they are still young. Mercy’s is so strong that she has to have it suppressed, lest it place too heavy a burden on her spirit.
At Copper, Iron, and Jade, she outclasses all her peers in madra control, technique proficiency, and shadow aura compatibility. She sets new records in combat with bows, staffs, flying swords, and puppet constructs.
The children of Akura Malice must prove themselves in order to be acknowledged as the Monarch’s true sons and daughters. Over the centuries, one hundred and eight children fail to inherit a sufficient measure of her talent, and are relegated to distant branches of the family. They have no rights as Malice’s children, and never meet their mother after the day of their birth.
Even for favored children, they have no chance to prove themselves to their mother before reaching Lowgold. At that point, if they inherit one of her Books or demonstrate enough talent in another area, she will favor them with an audience.
Even before advancing to Copper, Mercy meets with her mother at least once a year.
Instead of a Remnant, Malice’s direct descendants attempt to bond with Divine Treasures created by their predecessors. These Books require an open soulspace as well as a Jade core, so special—and expensive—means are used to open the soulspace early without harming the child.
There are many such Books, each left behind by an Akura expert, each with seven pages and seven techniques. Malice’s descendants are tested by the Books, taken into a dream-world where they are given trials by the Divine Treasures themselves. Those who pass and truly embark on the Path of Seven Pages are recognized as members of the head family. Those who fail are still given the full protection of the Akura clan, but are sent to branch families.
Only one book has never been claimed before: the first book, the one crafted by Malice herself for her successor. Her idea of a perfect shadow Path. It contains the seven techniques that the Monarch would have learned herself, if she could start her journey anew. It is the guide to the Path she wishes she had walked. The Book of Eternal Night.
All of Malice’s children are given the chance to activate the Book first. None ever do. For some of the geniuses in the line of Malice, like Akura Fury or Akura Charity, this is their first taste of failure. It is meant to show them the difference between a Monarch’s expectations and their own.
Mercy falls into a trance at first sight.
The Book finds her perfect. By the time her tutors report the incident to Malice, her bonding is already complete. She is Lowgold.
That night, her mother declares Mercy her heir.
Mercy passes through Gold with ease, setting new family records at every turn. She is the object of jealousy, admiration, fear, and awe in the clan. As she grows, she learns more of her family.
She does not like what she sees.
They scrape and debase themselves before those more powerful than they, while demanding those beneath them do the same. Their behavior is undignified. It’s petty. Mercy is determined to do better.
She treats those beneath her with respect, and her kindness becomes legend within the servants of the clan. There are those who wonder if her mother looked into the future to give her a fitting name, for there is truly mercy in her soul.
By the time she reaches the peak of Truegold, she knows she has escaped the trap that has ensnared the rest of her family. She does not demean herself for approval, or elevate the opinions of the powerful as they do. She practices the sacred arts for the benefit of others.
Then she discovers her Underlord revelation.
The truth frightens her.
Mercy abandons her advancement, seeks a hearing with her mother. She begs Malice to let her leave, so that she can find an identity of her own.
Her mother, who sees far, agrees.
But she includes the following restrictions.
Mercy’s body and physical skill will be sealed, as these were inherited from her mother.
Her advancement will be reverted, as that too was a result of Akura family training. She will return to Lowgold, and she will have to advance from there without the assistance or guidance of the Akura family.
She may keep only her personal belongings, as well as her bow and her Book, for neither of those can be taken from her without damaging her spirit. However, as a Lowgold, she will be able to evoke only a small fraction of their power.
Mercy and Malice make a bet.
For as long as Mercy can survive on her own under such limitations, without the full measure of her talent or her family’s support, Malice will place no requirements on her. She will live without the weight of responsibility, as she pleases.
However, if she cannot—if she fails or dies—then she must embrace her identity and become the heir to the Akura clan once again.
Suggested topic: Akura Mercy’s little brother, Pride.
Denied, report complete.
~~~
As the swords slipped through her ribs, Mercy felt one thing through the overwhelming pain: regret. She’d lost.
Not the fight.
Her bet.
After Seishen Daji turned to walk away, he froze. Everything did, including—thankfully—Mercy’s pain.
Shadows rushed through the halls, casting the world in darkness. Only one point of light remained, like sunlight beaming down through clouds. Into that light stepped a woman.
She was beautiful, with a full figure and the poise of a queen. She wore a rich, black dress of silken fabric hung with a web of delicate silver chains, as though she had been draped in the world’s most expensive spiderweb. Each of those chains bore fat amethysts, which flashed in the light streaming from above. One silver chain wrapped around her forehead, holding the largest amethyst over her eyes.
Her hair flowed down to the small of her back, darker even than the night surrounding her. It hardly looked like it was made from real strands, but from liquid smoke or boiling shadow. Her hair billowed behind her, twisting and curling with a mind of its own. Her skin was pale, her lips painted black. At least, Mercy had always assumed it was paint.
And her eyes blazed with pure, endless purple light.
“Hello, Mother,” Mercy said.
Her voice came out a little strained around the wound in her chest, though she couldn’t feel it. The gemstone over Malice’s eyes flashed, and Mercy’s flesh knitted together. She took a deep breath, rising shakily to her feet.
She held Suu in one hand, and the bow’s dragon head swiveled down to look at Malice. The dragon’s eyes closed in respect. Mercy had to lean on the staff to push herself to her feet.
“You admit your loss?” Malice asked, her every word graceful.
“Yes.” Mercy had chosen to give up her bet so that she could save Lindon and Yerin, but she still felt some regret. And a touch of despair. She had enjoyed being out on her own.
But it had been worth it. If Daji had joined Kiro or Meira, Mercy’s friends wouldn’t h
ave survived.
Her freedom for her friends’ lives was a good trade.
Malice sighed, reaching a hand out for her daughter. Mercy took it. The Monarch’s fingers were perfectly soft. They didn’t feel like they could crush steel like butter.
“This is not the end of your freedom, Mercy. It is the beginning. Power is the ability to do as you wish. You will always be the toy of those who have more of it than you do. You have seen that.”
Mercy had felt that lesson pushed through her ribcage. With her sacred arts sealed, she couldn’t stop Daji from doing anything he wanted.
“I have. But I still don’t understand the rest of the family. They would sell their own firstborn if they thought you would grant them favor. Why? What’s the point?”
They’d had this argument already, on the day Mercy had left the family. She hadn’t been satisfied with her mother’s answers then, and she still wouldn’t be now.
But Mercy continued spilling out her feelings. This was probably a waste of a rare audience with her mother, but she couldn’t help it. “Why do we have to beg and crawl for every scrap?”
“You,” Akura Malice said, “don’t.”
She raised her free hand. Her nails had been painted the same purple as their bloodline armor…or maybe they had crystallized that way.
With her daughter’s hand in her left, she held her right over Mercy’s forehead. Cool, dark power flowed around her, and the Divine Treasure rose from Mercy’s soulspace. She knew it would be hovering behind her, a massive book of Forged madra that contained the power of her Path.
Malice’s voice now resonated with the oath she and Mercy had sworn together. “Akura Mercy, do you agree to abide by the restrictions of our pact?”
Mercy closed her eyes and thought of her Skysworn team. She hadn’t known them for long, but she would miss their time together.
This was the last thing she could do for them.
“I will return to the family,” Mercy said. “And my role and responsibilities therein.”
