by Will Wight
Fisher Gesha eyed him. “I'm sorry, boy.”
Lindon didn't hear her.
The excitement of his new arm had been completely dampened. He packed up his things in a haze, and the next thing he knew, he had returned to his room. It was simple—less appointed even than the cell where the Skysworn had kept him before, but mercifully bigger. It was connected to a kind of stable, where Orthos slept.
He stood in the center of his room, lost.
When Gesha had asked him who he was trying to catch up to, only two faces had popped into his mind: Yerin and Eithan.
Both of them were too embarrassing to say aloud. Yerin was the apprentice of a Sage, and a prodigy. Eithan was an Underlord and the Patriarch of a great family.
But they had both treated him as though he could catch up to them. They had made him believe it.
Now he was on his own.
Without knowing what he was doing, he grabbed his pack with his left hand and slipped it on. He froze halfway through, realizing he didn't need it, but it comforted him. Made him feel prepared.
Then, aimlessly, he drifted over to Orthos' room. It was broad, empty, and its walls were plated in dark, scripted metal. It had been designed to hold contracted sacred beasts, or so Lindon had been told.
Orthos hadn't been asleep, which Lindon had expected from the feel of his spirit. Instead, the turtle was munching on a pile of rocks and broken chunks of street that Lindon had scavenged from around the city. The red circles of his eyes pivoted to Lindon as he entered, but the turtle didn't say anything. He just kept chewing away.
Lindon hugged his pack to himself—with one arm, because the other had rebelled again—and sat down.
Orthos felt confused and weak again. The years he'd spent with a damaged spirit had left their mark on his mind. Now, he was struggling to think.
Little Blue popped up from inside Lindon's robes, eyeing Orthos. With a quick glance at Lindon, she hurried across the floor, resting her blue hand on one of the turtle's forelegs.
His spirit and body shuddered as the Sylvan Riverseed's power cleansed his madra channels, but he kept munching away on the rock.
“Lin...don...” he said, through a mouthful of gravel.
Little Blue gave him a mournful whistle and then drifted back to Lindon.
“Good morning, Orthos,” Lindon said.
“...arm,” the turtle forced out.
“It's a new one,” Lindon said, holding it up and twisting it with difficulty. “But it should be an improvement.”
Orthos' consciousness was growing sharper by the second, but he was still having trouble with speech. After a moment, he gave a single nod. “Good. Like it.”
Well, he'd gotten approval from Yerin and Orthos.
“I think you and Yerin will be happier the more frightening I look,” Lindon said, idly opening his pack.
“Dragons...are frightening,” Orthos said, the red in his eyes shining.
“That doesn't mean I want to be,” Lindon said, flipping through his belongings. He was taking inventory.
Here, in this room, was everything he had left.
Little Blue, Orthos, and the contents of his pack. Eithan would still help him, but Eithan was gone. Who knew when the Underlord would return? He had been fickle even before the Emperor had needed him to resolve an imperial crisis.
He dug down past a portable rune-light, a spare set of clothes, and a ball of string. Counting everything in his pack calmed him, gave him a sense of control. He had prepared for everything he could, and these were the fruits of his preparation.
After only a moment, his fingertips brushed old, yellowed paper. He pulled it out: The Heart of Twin Stars, the cover said.
Inside, he had written on the blank sheets the manual had included, and had added more pages within as necessary.
The Path of Twin Stars, he had written, in his own handwriting.
Here, he had recorded every step of his advancement. The uses of pure madra. Notes on the performance, range, and feel of the Empty Palm technique. He had recorded his experience splitting his core, and how he had used scales he Forged himself to expand his capacity. He recorded when he'd moved on to the Heaven and Earth Purification Wheel technique—though he was vague on those details, following Eithan's advice to keep that cycling method a secret.
After that, his notes were sparse. He'd recorded the pills Eithan had given him to train, and how he had refined Lowgold and Highgold cores for Lindon's digestion. That was the method Lindon had used to reach Lowgold in his pure core.
But that was all. There were still more blank pages left.
Lindon sat for entirely too long, holding the manual in his hand. The feel of the old paper, the smell of it, brought back old feelings.
How he'd felt when Yerin taught him that an Unsouled was a fabrication of Sacred Valley. How he could carve out his own Path.
“Orthos,” Lindon said quietly. “Yerin went to join the Skysworn.”
The turtle grumbled for a moment before forcing out, “Why?”
“They're fighting against Redmoon Hall.”
Rage boiled up in Orthos' spirit. Lindon could feel it, pushing against the sacred beast's restraints. He had heard about the bloodspawn, what they'd done while he slept, and that they'd come from a Dreadgod. In his mind, Redmoon Hall had made a fool of him while he slept.
Orthos kept himself under control, but he rose up to his full height, turning his head to face Lindon. “And you? You will allow them to do as they wish, unopposed?”
At least he was back to full sentences.
“The smarter choice is to stay with the Arelius family,” Lindon said. “Get stronger first. If I went to fight now, I wouldn't offer anything. I'd be going to lose, or to die.”
Orthos backed him against the wall, looming over him. Lindon felt a pang of fear, though he could sense that the turtle was totally in control. He had fought against the wild Orthos too many times to be entirely comfortable.
“A dragon does not allow fear to make his decisions for him,” Orthos rumbled. “A dragon decides for himself.”
Lindon glanced down at the manual in his hand.
His own Path.
What did he want to do?
Little Blue looked up at him from somewhere around his shin, her ocean-blue body shimmering in Orthos' smoldering light. She reached up to pat him, giving him some comfort.
He reached down with his flesh arm, scooping her up, and she scampered up to sit on his shoulder. Then he stood.
“Let's go,” Lindon said.
Orthos stomped out the door. “You don’t need to tell me we’re going. Of course we are. He snapped up a chunk of the floor, munching on it as he spoke.
“A dragon always fights.”
Chapter 13
Renfei and Bai Rou led Yerin away from Starsweep Tower, toward the class of applicants. Bai Rou loomed over her in a way that made her want to knock him down a peg, if only he weren't a fully armed and armored Truegold. Renfei had a more reasonable height, only an inch or two over Yerin herself. Yerin couldn't help but like her more.
“As we return to the capital, Stormrock will pass over Serpent's Grave. The rest of the Arelius family will be sent home then,” Renfei said.
Yerin nodded. She had been a little worried that they would stay here, so that she might crash into them during her Skysworn training. She itched at the thought of them seeing her train to leave them.
And at the same time, she ached when she thought about them leaving her. Her feelings were too twisted to think about for very long; clearly, she needed more training.
“There are only fifty other qualified Highgold applicants,” Renfei went on. “You'll be competing with them for ten spots.”
“I thought you'd be begging for as many bodies as you could squeeze into green armor,” Yerin said.
“We can't let our standards slip,” Renfei told her proudly, the cloud over her head lightening. “Now, more than ever, we need the Skysworn to be excellent.”
She waited a moment before adding, “However, we won't dismiss the other forty, like we might under other circumstances. We will give them a chance to re-apply, or to serve in other ways. And the basic training program for those who join will be accelerated.”
Yerin translated to herself. They were cutting corners all over the place, but not in places where they had to admit it. So they were desperate, they just didn't want to look that way.
She had another question, but before she could ask it, the crowd parted behind them as random passersby were shoved out of the way. A tall, broad figure loomed behind her, and the brief flash from her spiritual perception showed her a great power moving toward her at speed.
Her sword was in her hand immediately, the blades over her shoulders poised. Her master's memories drifted to the surface, sketching the outline of combat in her mind. Not that she needed his experience—she had scars from enough fights herself. She wasn't so raw and unformed that she'd lock up at the first taste of combat.
Then she saw who it was and completely locked up.
Lindon stumbled up to her, out of breath, dipping his head in apologies to all the people around him he'd shoved out of the way. Orthos rose over him like a smoking mountain, his eyes glaring at her. He looked even angrier than Lindon usually did, though it fit his black, leathery turtle's face.
Lindon's pack was hanging awkwardly from one shoulder, Little Blue seated on his head, his arm twisting and bucking like it had slipped his leash. Wasn't a tough guess to see he hadn't mastered it yet.
He met her gaze, and his eyes were black with red circles. But that darkness faded as he switched away from Blackflame, looking to the Skysworn.
“I'd like to join as well,” he said. “To serve the Empire.”
Bai Rou marched forward, yellow eyes shining in the shadow of his hat, and seized Lindon by the arm. “You idiot,” he said in a low voice, dragging him into a nearby alley. The citizens stared after them, and Orthos followed, growling like he was prepared to attack.
Renfei's cloud was a solid black as she joined them in the alley, one hand on her hammer as though she expected to use it.
“A Blackflame?” Bai Rou snarled, shoving Lindon up against the wall. “In Stormrock?”
Orthos stepped up, growling, his eyes blazing red and Blackflame madra flaring from the plates of his shell.
Yerin had her own sword out. She'd aim for the back of Bai Rou’s neck first, above the armor, while he was focused on Lindon. If she and Orthos killed him quick, then they could turn to Renfei together.
The woman stabbed her finger toward the mouth of the alley. “You didn't even hide yourself! What do you imagine they're thinking right now?”
Wary of a trap, Yerin shot a quick glance at the opening, but she didn't take her eyes off Bai Rou for more than an instant.
The people had run, peeking in from around the corner. They looked terrified. A shop owner shut his door with a bang.
Lindon held up his hands...or his hand, as his white arm rebelled halfway through and started reaching for Orthos. With visible effort, he knocked it down. “I...humbly apologize for causing a scene, but surely you see why I can only join the Skysworn. How can I fight for the Empire when merely revealing my contracted partner causes a panic? Unless I work for the Skysworn.”
Yerin saw a shred of reason in it. If people knew the Skysworn had a Blackflame under control, it would make them look stronger. Lindon would look weaker, too, but he didn't care what every random person on the street thought. At least, he shouldn't.
Renfei was still furious, Bai Rou still had Lindon pushed against the wall, and Orthos' growl was growing louder. Yerin held her sword at the ready, careful not to send any madra flowing through the weapon. If Renfei sensed it, the battle would begin too early.
“How did you get out of the tower?” Renfei demanded. “The guards would have stopped you.”
Lindon looked genuinely confused. “We just...walked out. They seemed busy.”
Other than Renfei and Bai Rou, every other Skysworn Yerin had seen in the city was scampering around like a scared rabbit. She still couldn't swallow that he'd walked straight out with Orthos following him. She wondered what had really happened.
Bai Rou turned to exchange a glance with Renfei. He released Lindon, abruptly taking a step back.
Yerin sheathed her sword as though she'd never drawn it. Her Goldsigns withdrew.
Somewhere around her core, her uninvited guest sent out a pulse of disappointment. Like a craving gone unmet. It pushed against the seal on her skin, but that dam held.
How long will that last? she wondered. If Eithan didn't come back in time, she'd have to find a solution herself.
He'd hinted and teased about a way to get this parasite out of her, but he'd also made it clear as glass that he'd rather she use it. He wanted her to be one of these emissaries, or whatever she'd be called if she didn't work for Redmoon Hall.
She had no interest in that. She'd rather walk away from the sword forever than lose to this...disgusting thing inside of her. She couldn't end such a long fight by giving up. Not even by taking it over herself.
A handful of her master's memories dealt with her guest—it seemed like every other memory she pulled from his Remnant had to do with her. Eithan said that it was easier to pull up memories that touched you in some way, but she was disappointed. She'd hope to learn things about her master she didn't know.
Still, she knew what he'd felt about her Blood Shadow: disgust. He thought the parasite was a burden on her, and he'd only been waiting until she advanced enough to be rid of it.
While she was lost in thought, the other four had gone back to an uneasy standoff.
“We have to bring him to the Underlord either way,” Renfei said at last. “If he wants to invite a Blackflame to try out...well, that's up to him.”
Lindon nodded along. “I believe I'm qualified to apply for one of the Lowgold positions. I know the application process is today; we could try that before meeting with the Underlord, if time is an issue.”
“He's at the testing grounds,” Bai Rou said, ignoring Lindon.
“We'll have to circle around, by the walls,” Renfei responded, looking into the shadows of the alley. “We would be even more visible in the air. Just have to take it fast.”
Bai Rou turned to look at Lindon, face in shadow. “Keep up,” he commanded, then took off with a splash of golden liquid madra.
“You first,” Renfei said. “Try to escape or deviate from the course, and I will take care of you myself.”
Lindon gave Orthos a nervous look. He'd be wondering what Yerin was: whether Orthos could keep himself under control as they ran. After one reassuring pat on the turtle's head, he scooped Little Blue off his head and into his palm.
The Sylvan Riverseed caught Yerin's eye as she was lowered, and Yerin waved.
The spirit turned away as though suddenly frightened, huddling on Lindon's palm. Yerin sighed.
An instant later, Lindon's eyes were dark again, and the Burning Cloak ignited around him like a red-and-black shroud in the air. He kicked off, Orthos trotting after, and Yerin filled her body with madra.
The Path of the Endless Sword didn't have a full-body Enforcer technique, but her Iron body was strong. She fed madra to her limbs in a general Enforcement, which was nowhere near as good as a true technique, but she had no trouble keeping up with Lindon.
They ran side-by-side for a while as she tried to sort out what to say, but the words got tangled up inside her. She couldn't seem to push the knot out past her tongue.
As a group, they were darting through damp alleys, vaulting short walls, dodging piles of trash and hopeless-looking people crouched on the sides of the road. She'd seen the decay of cities before, and it almost comforted her to see that the sickness extended even here, to the city of the Skysworn.
She had remained silent too long, the tangle of words keeping her frustrated. Finally, she just blurted it out.
“You followed me
,” she barked as she hopped up on top of an eight-foot wall and waited for him to come after her. “Why? Ten seconds ago, you didn't want to fight.”
He shrugged as he landed next to her, though his white arm folded up with the motion and wouldn't unlock. “You've followed me for the better part of two years,” he said at last, taking off and trusting her to keep up. “You didn't have to stick with me after Sacred Valley, and you didn't have to help me through the Blackflame Trials. It seemed like my turn.”
He gave her an embarrassed smile. “When I stopped looking at all the problems, and I just asked myself what I wanted to do...I realized I wanted to come with you. So here I am.”
Yerin kept her eyes focused on Bai Rou's broad back, because she could feel heat rising up through her neck and into her cheeks. Her words were stuck in her throat again, but for a different reason this time.
“Well,” she said at last. “Glad you finally saw it straight.” Then, to change the subject, she asked him, “How did you really get past the guards?”
“It’s a good thing the applications aren’t back in the tower,” Lindon said, voice low. “Orthos burned a hole in the wall.”
***
Lindon was losing track of the number of times he’d been imprisoned.
Bai Rou walked around him, producing a pair of manacles joined by a short length of chain. They looked like iron, but pale specks like stars deep in the metal told him that they included halfsilver. They would disperse madra on contact, preventing him from burning his way out of the restraints.
Not that he was drawing on his Blackflame madra at the moment. He had switched to his pure core as soon as Renfei and Bai Rou had dragged him into this squat, nondescript building. The Path of Black Flame made him aggressive, made him want to move, to act.
If he was filled with Blackflame madra, he was sure he would have tried to run. That would only have resulted in a short chase followed by Bai Rou dragging him down the hall anyway. He could sense that was what Orthos wanted to do; the turtle was safe, but growing restless. Wherever he was, he wouldn’t stay there long. Little Blue had crawled back in her case, and though they’d taken his pack, they’d left her inside.
