Skysworn

Chapter 11

Cassias sat on his mat, covered in bandages, with a frog's tongue stuck onto his wrist. The fat, blood-red bullfrog sat on a little dais, an ornately carved platform the size of Lindon's hand, and pumped blood through its tongue with every exhale.

It was one of the most fascinating sacred beasts Lindon had ever seen, and he couldn't help wondering what sort of blood Path had produced it. The healer had said that it would slowly replace the blood Cassias had lost, as well as purging any remaining influence from the bloodspawn, but that he had to rest. And, if possible, he should avoid strenuous activity or stressful conversation.

They were putting that last advice to the test.

“I'll be fighting Redmoon Hall if it's just me and my sword,” Yerin said, arms crossed. To Lindon's eye, she still looked odd without the red belt, as that had been the brightest splash of color about her. “Don’t have the legs to go very far if I’m not Truegold, but I’d go if I were Copper. You get me to Truegold, you’d be lending me a hand up.”

Lindon recognized his opportunity. “The sooner we reach Truegold, the sooner we’ll be ready to contribute to the Empire. And the more useful we would be to you.”

Cassias glanced at the frog and took a deep breath. “I don't have the full list of training materials you've used in the time since you've been with us, but it's extensive. Running the Blackflame Trials alone cost the equivalent of two top-grade scales a day, not to mention my own time. That's more than the training budget for all our other students combined. And then there are those Four Corners Rotation Pills we provided. We could have hired five new workers for the same price. Yerin, you've been using our sword aura cycling room so extensively that we had to replace some of the aura sources and upgrade the scripts.”

“That's a fair point, but most of those decisions were made by Eithan,” Lindon pointed out. “He obviously thought we were worth the expense.”

“He did, which is why Eithan paid for most of that personally,” Cassias responded. “If he spent his time doing nothing else, he could generate three or four top-grade scales a day, which is absolutely stunning. Most Underlords could not do the same. So additionally, we have the cost of his time when he went to the Desolate Wilds to retrieve you. Every day he spent on you has cost this family a sizeable amount of income.”

Yerin turned as though to leave. “I've heard my fill. I need to track down Eithan, not you. Is he on the battlefield yet?”

“Eithan has been recalled to a secret location by order of the Emperor,” Cassias said, carefully watching the frog. The frog croaked and gave him a stern look, so Cassias settled back against the wall. “If you want help before he returns, you'll have to go through the family system.”

“System?” Lindon asked, intrigued.

“Workers are paid for their living expenses, of course, but anyone who contributes to the family beyond the scope of their job receives additional resources. We invest in those who provide a benefit to us.”

“And how are those benefits measured?”

“There's an extensive chart in any of our facilities,” Cassias said, and Lindon perked up. A clear-cut list of tasks and rewards sounded perfect. “Essentially, we want you to advance as quickly as possible if you're serving the family.”

“Sounds like a load of fetching and carrying for nothing, if we're already getting the same from Eithan for free,” Yerin said.

Cassias looked to Lindon. “Yerin has already earned several rewards from the Arelius family, for tasks she performed while you were…isolated. She earned a set of pills that condensed several months' worth of sword aura, five thousand sword scales, quite a bit of time in our highest-level sword cycling room, and time with our most experienced sword Path instructor. Which so happens to be me.”

Lindon looked to Yerin, astonished. He imagined that she spent all her time cycling and training alone. That was most of what he'd seen her do, when she had the choice. “What did she do for the family?”

Yerin gave an impatient sigh. “Killed a Remnant, killed another Remnant, pushed away some guy who was needling the cleaning crews a little, stopped a big lizard from running through the sewers...Probably more, I don't know, it slips through my mind.”

“Those sound like things I could do,” Lindon said eagerly.

“That's the point,” Cassias said. He sounded exasperated. “Most employees of the Arelius family join us because they are not suited for combat. If you can protect them from rivals or remove obstacles—such as Remnants—that pop up in the course of their ordinary duties, you are rewarded. There are other ways to demonstrate excellence than fighting, but I imagine this is the area in which you will excel.”

“I don't have time for more of the same,” Yerin said. “I know what bloodspawn can do to a town. Someone's getting run over while we're locked in here chatting.”

The red frog croaked at Cassias, who took another deep breath. “This is the problem with how Eithan treats you. Neither of you have an appreciation for the expense that has gone into your training.”

“You think so? I grew up paying for it all myself,” Yerin said proudly. “My master made sure I know what sacred arts cost.”

“And yet a minute of your master's time was worth more than a day of Eithan's.”

She scowled at him.

Cassias closed his eyes, clearly waiting for them to leave. “I'm happy to provide you with the same support we would to any of our disciples. As long as you earn it.”

“This is it,” Lindon said in the hallway outside Cassias’ room. “He has everything we need. If we see the family rules, I’m sure we can find a way to make them work for us.”

“The family rules can go rot,” Yerin said, gripping her sword and marching down the hall. “The Skysworn will let me fight.”

Lindon stopped in place, forcing her to spin and eye him. “…that’s it?” he asked. “We’re leaving the Arelius family? After all this?”

Yerin’s scars stood out in the pale white rune-lights of the hall. “Not joining another family, are we? The Skysworn don’t ask you to throw your family away. We’re just serving the Empire, like good and proper boys and girls. Now let’s go.”

Lindon didn’t move. “I…really don’t think we should.”

Color rose into her cheeks. “I’m not just thinking about it. I’m doing it. Thought you were with me.”

Lindon felt like a Remnant had reached into his chest and made a fist, but he swallowed. “I am,” he said, “of course I am. But I don’t understand why we’re rushing into this. If you’ll just give me a few more days…”

“Don’t have ‘em to give,” Yerin said, and she kept walking.

Lindon stayed where he was.

Yerin found Renfei and Bai Rou talking intently over a low table, which was heavy with food. Empty plates were piled around Bai Rou, and he was sucking the meat from a chicken bone as she approached.

Both of them were in full armor, though they had stayed close to the Arelius family guests. No one had taken them off babysitting duty yet, and as the days passed, they were starting to get restless.

Yerin had no news of the outside world. That was part of the weight she felt pushing down on her—what was Redmoon Hall doing now? How many towns had the bloodspawn ruined?

Grabbing a chair from a nearby table, Yerin spun it around and sat down, joining them. Renfei eyed her as though trying to figure out whether to be amused or irritated, but Bai Rou just kept eating.

“You mentioned you're recruiting. What do you need the recruits for?”

Renfei frowned. “You've seen them. Redmoon Hall is washing over the southern Empire like a tide. We've lost contact with three cities on the southern border, and have confirmed bloodspawn sightings a hundred miles north. People all over are beginning to panic, and that's when you need order. If we had five times as many Skysworn as we do, it wouldn't be enough.”

“And here we are,” Bai Rou said between bites, “waiting.”

“You're fighting the bloodspawn? And Redmoon Hall?”

“Of course we are. What do you think we do with our time?”

Bai Rou swallowed. “When we're not trapped here.”

Yerin nodded sharply. “All right. I'm in.”

Renfei and Bai Rou exchanged glances, then Yerin felt a whisper of power tickle her soul. She was being scanned.

“We don't usually take people on slaughter Paths,” Renfei said, and Yerin gave an inward sigh of relief. The Skysworn had sensed the presence of the Blood Shadow inside, but had assumed it was just a part of Yerin's power.

Sacred artists on Paths of blood and the sword weren't the most popular people around. They were known for murdering anybody they came across just to cycle. It had earned them the nickname “slaughter Paths,” though Yerin had heard others.

“...but you're a Highgold,” Renfei continued. “We're not in the business of turning down eager Highgolds while we're in a state of emergency. But we'll be checking your rank, and you still have to go through the same qualification process everyone does.”

Yerin had no problem with that. She'd never been afraid of trials.

Officially, Eithan was on a private cloudship on his way to the capital.

The cloudship had actually departed from Stormrock that morning, and the city's records showed him aboard. From beneath a hood, and with a veil over his core to make him seem like an ordinary Gold, he had waved good-bye to the ship himself.

The Emperor had commanded his presence.

Naru Huan, Patriarch of the Naru clan and sole leader of the Blackflame Empire, was officially on a tour of their southern defenses. He was addressing this crisis personally.

In reality, that was almost correct. He was just doing it a bit more...directly than the public believed.

He waited at the top of the Starsweep Tower at the center of Stormrock. When Eithan entered, the Emperor had his back turned and wings spread, looking out vast windows over the city. From here, they could see the edge of the green cloud that supported all of Stormrock. And below them, a dome of hazy red light.

Eithan was the last to arrive.

The other Underlords were already there.

There was a table in the center of the room, laden with fruits and drinks, but no one sat. They all stood separately, each man and woman an island, though many in the room were related. A control console of ornate gold stood a few feet from the Emperor, though no one was manning it. Its script-circles were dark, and the city was still.

Eithan made his way to the food as the Emperor spoke. “We have chosen you to serve us in the most important tasks. We will address the others later, but you are the ones who will truly defend the Empire.”

Naru Huan turned, spreading his vast, shimmering emerald wings for effect. He cut a heroic figure, with a jaw like a brick and eyes like knives. His royal robes didn't hide his muscular figure, and the outfit was impressive in its own right. His robes had a green dragon and a blue one twining around each other, the cool colors complementing his wings, and his hair was pinned up with a jade pin.

Eithan nodded at the presentation even as he took a bite of a steamed bun. Naru Huan wasn't a master of capturing an audience, but he had presence, personality, and a flair for style. He'd learn.

There were seven others around the table, including Eithan: the top seven Underlords in the Blackflame Empire. Only a few months ago, Eithan had been rated merely eleventh, but his confrontations with Jai Daishou had raised him a few spots up the ladder.

Had he not been invited, he would have been forced to eavesdrop on this meeting. And that would have been rude. Besides, it was much harder to advance his own plans if he wasn't in the room.

“This has been nothing less than a betrayal by one of our number,” the Emperor said, spearing each of them with his gaze. “He has risked the very existence of our nation for selfish greed.” When it was Eithan's turn, he raised his half-eaten bun in salute, and he caught a brief twitch of Naru Huan's eyelid.

When he had let the moment sink in with appropriate gravity, the Emperor made a sharp gesture with his right hand. Wind aura surged, and a box drifted up on a cushion of air. It was sealed with layers of script-circles, and even the Emperor had to use three different keys to open it.

With great ceremony, he turned the box toward them and lifted the lid.

Several of the others gasped or muttered at the sight of the Archstone, sitting on a cushion. The dull light within swirled as though with motion, and Eithan could sense its hunger tugging at their spirits even from so far away.

After only a second or two, the Emperor shut the lid. Its scripts shone, sealing away its power once more. “The Archstone, as described in the Draconic Records. It was sealed deep in the western labyrinth, where Jai Daishou retrieved it.”

The Emperor inclined his head toward his uncle, and Naru Gwei stepped forward. The second-ranked Underlord in the Empire had positioned himself near the door, as though hoping he could leave as soon as possible. His hair was even more matted and dirty, if possible, and it seemed to be wet this time. He still wore his battered Skysworn armor, though he hadn't brought his sword along this time. Perhaps he felt safe in the heart of his headquarters. He had withdrawn his wings as well, so there was nothing to mark him as one of the elders of the Naru clan.

“We believe the Underlord of the Jai clan entered the western labyrinth to retrieve a weapon that would allow him to settle a personal grudge,” Naru Gwei recited, as though reading from a dull schoolbook. “We cannot confirm how long the seal was breached, but it was long enough to alert the Bleeding Phoenix.”

Another general murmur swept through the room, though they all must have known as much already. A crack came from the edge of the table as the Emperor's sister lost control of her strength.

“Based on the movements of Redmoon Hall and the influence of the Phoenix, we believe that it has nested only a few miles south of our border this time. Our dream-readers suggest we have weeks, perhaps months, before it is fully conscious and able to move.”

“Will the Skysworn be enough to stop Redmoon Hall?” Eithan asked through a mouthful of food. He didn't have to be subtle here. Very few of the others considered him important enough to care what he was doing, and the ones who did wouldn't stop him.

Naru Gwei gave him a look, though it lacked impact coming from his dead face. Eithan wasn't exactly sure what that expression was supposed to be.

“We will serve the Empire with honor,” Naru Gwei said, raising his fingers to touch the burn scars on his left cheek. “And we are recruiting as we speak. But we could use as many applicants as we can, if only to keep the peace while we focus on the real battle.”

Eithan nodded thoughtfully, sipping a crystal goblet of blazewater. It was a popular drink in the East, and he enjoyed the novelty. Every sip made him feel like his mouth was on fire, but with no actual pain. It was infused with spirit-fruits and dream aura, he heard. Some Paths considered it invaluable for cycling.

Naru Huan fixed his imperial gaze on the third-ranked Underlord. “Underlord Kotai, what is your assessment of our situation?”

Kotai Shou walked up to the table, pressing his fists together in a salute—one of his fists was five times bigger than the other—and then standing straight with hands at his side to report. Shou was a grizzled old sea captain with his head shaved except for a dangling gray braid in front of each ear. He had storm-gray skin, and he had lost his left arm in battle as a child, replacing it with the limb of a massive stone-madra Remnant.

“We've got three problems,” he barked. “The bloodspawn are the first. They're part of the Phoenix's power, so they will only show up in the red zone around the nest. But they will spread further as the Dreadgod wakes, until every drop of blood inside a hundred miles will hatch into a monster. I'd call that a regional emergency on its own.

“Second, Redmoon Hall. They've got two levels. The vassals are the ones who let their Blood Shadows take control. They can be managed. They can raise bloodspawn if they want, but they're mindless and weak enough to be taken over in the first place. We can handle them. And they'll stay close to either the Phoenix itself or the emissaries.”

His gray-skinned face remained calm, but his prosthetic arm gripped so tightly that the madra creaked. “That's the real threat of Redmoon Hall: the emissaries. They were powerful sacred artists even before they controlled their parasites. With a Blood Shadow, they can each fight beyond their stage. Battle reports we've received from the Akura clan, based on their encounters with Redmoon Hall outside of the Empire, confirm multiple emissaries at the Underlord level.”

A few of the others had already started muttering again, but Eithan knew he hadn't finished.

“...as well as at least one Overlord.” The muttering intensified. “And, supposedly, the Sage of Red Faith.”

This time, the room was quiet for a long moment.

“Then we have the third and final problem,” Underlord Kotai continued. “The Dreadgod itself.”

In the ensuing silence, Kotai Shou bowed to the Emperor once more and backed up.

“We have plans to handle each of those issues,” Naru Huan assured everyone. “First, let us hear from the only one to have fought a Redmoon Hall emissary. Underlord Arelius, if you would?”

Eithan walked forward, giving an exaggerated wince and touching his shoulder as though it pained him. In truth, it was just a little sore. The Underlady of the Jade Eye School had treated him herself, so he was healthier than before his battle. In fact, she was in the room, and he was sure she was rolling her eyes at him. Unfortunately, it was hard to make out anything of the old woman's expression under her thick black veil.

“I crossed swords, so to speak, with an emissary of Redmoon Hall only yesterday,” Eithan confirmed. “I can confirm that he was indeed an Underlord. A skilled and powerful one, at that.” He hadn't even relied on the power of his Blood Shadow, and he had still knocked Eithan around the mountain.

It had been embarrassing, not to mention painful. He had almost forced Eithan to resort to a contingency plan.

“If he was the only one of his kind, we could manage. Honored Chon Ma could surely have destroyed him,” Eithan said, dipping his head to the number-one Underlord in the Blackflame Empire.

He was the head of the Cloud Hammer School, and the dark cloud hanging over his head seemed to indicate the Underlord's perpetual mood. The bearded man scowled, folding his arms and revealing the hammers he wore at each hip.

Supposedly, he doted on his only daughter, who had the potential to become an Underlady herself one day. Eithan had trouble imagining him softening enough to dote on anyone.

“...but he was not alone,” Eithan continued. “He had allies in the mountains, and though I could not measure their strength accurately, the fact that I could sense them at all from so far away suggested that they had at least as much raw power as I.”

That wasn't necessarily true, but it could be, and it suited Eithan's purposes.

“With so many Underlords in the enemy's forces, it seems right to me that we should count ourselves as the front line of defense for the Empire. I know it will be difficult to set aside our own agendas for the duration of this crisis, so in the interests of unity, I propose that we should assist the Skysworn directly.”

Eithan projected absolute sincerity, but he hadn't pierced the cynical looks on most of the others. It was just as well; someone would have proposed it anyway, but by being the one to bring it up, they would make sure he was forced into participating. So he could nobly accept the role of a temporary Skysworn officer.

Where, he gathered, at least one of his beloved disciples was about to enroll.

Naru Saeya pounded the table with her fist, sending a crack through the polished wood. The Emperor's little sister was tall and strikingly beautiful, with smooth skin and a delicate face that had “inspired” any number of ambitious painters in the Empire. She, the Emperor, and Eithan were the only ones in the room who appeared younger than fifty.

She wore a fan of peacock feathers over one ear—they were either powerful constructs or nothing more than decorations, because Eithan had never sensed any power from them. Her wings, spread in agitation, were much smaller and thinner than her brother's or uncle's, and her agility in the air was almost unsurpassed. She had been the youngest Underlord in the Empire before Eithan, and her senses rivaled those of the Arelius family.

Which was almost a shame, because her sensitivity was comparably lacking. She had a reputation of bulling her way through problems headfirst.

Now, she was rolling her sleeves up as though getting ready to punch through a wall, pacing in agitation. She looked restless for a fight. “We know what to do. We have the Underlords and the Overlord, we just need to find a Sage. Then we can take the fight to them. We might be able to destroy Redmoon Hall in one stroke!”

“Then we only have to deal with the Dreadgod,” Chon Ma said, still scowling beneath his cloud.

“We'll evacuate! People do it all over the world, all the time. Without its servants, it has nothing to weaken us before it wakes up.”

Mentally, Eithan had to applaud her plan. It was vague on the critical details, but the general outline was good. If they simply weathered this storm without destroying Redmoon Hall, they would be inviting another apocalyptic crisis in the future. It was never good to leave enemies behind you.

Of course, they didn't know the enemy's full strength. And they didn't have the power to deal with the forces they knew about.

“Finding a Sage might be tricky,” Eithan said. “I have it on good authority that the Sage of the Endless Sword was killed not so long ago, which leaves...”

“Frozen Blade and Silver Heart,” Underlady Li Min Redflower put in, her voice creaking behind her dark veil. She was the one who had healed his shoulder, and from his understanding, she rarely spoke in these meetings. She was the only one with a chair.

Kotai Shou turned his gray face to Eithan, flexing his stone fingers as he spoke. “What about the Arelius homeland? The Sage of a Thousand Eyes has an honorable reputation. She would come to our aid.”

Eithan winced. He hadn't been to the homeland for seven years, but memory of his last failure was still harsh. “I'm afraid the doorway doesn't open for another three years. Besides...last I saw them, they didn't have any help to spare for anyone else.”

If the Sage of a Thousand Eyes was still alive after all this time, then she was much wiser than he had given her credit for. Or she'd found a powerful ally. Somewhere.

The Emperor reached out a hand to the golden console beside him, and one of the circles shone. Starsweep Tower hummed to life around him, but the enormous cloudship went nowhere.

Eithan extended his senses, confirming that they were indeed hovering over Lastleaf Fortress. This must be their target.

Once the meeting was over, the battery of launcher constructs on the bottom of the floating city would fire at once, in a barrage that would reduce anything beneath them to dust. The Underlords would be expected to contribute their power to that effort.

“We have all the facts we need,” Naru Huan said, staring out the window. “At the least, we must beg the help of a Sage...and a Monarch.”

Good luck to you, Eithan thought. Monarchs were practically myths. It would be hard enough to find a Herald, and very few Monarchs could be reached at all. By mortals, anyway.

Those few that stayed in one place and ruled steady kingdoms all had something...wrong with them. Not that Eithan would ever say so aloud; some of them could hear their names spoken from all the way across the world. Still, supplicants had an equal chance of being ignored for centuries, granted an audience, or unmade. It was like begging the help of a volcano.

No one else could drive off a Dreadgod, it was true, but the Blackflame Empire could employ the strategy that had served humanity for millennia in front of overwhelming natural disasters: fleeing like mice.

“Underlord Arelius,” the Emperor said, spearing him with that sword-sharp gaze. “You will be our representative to the Akura family. Using our name, you will beg an audience with their Monarch, as one of her loyal servants. They have shielded us from the dragons for generations, and they might grant us grace this time as well.”

Eithan's mind froze. The room came into focus as it did when he was in battle, his emotions chilling. The smile slipped from his face.

“You're sending me to die,” he said. His voice had an edge.

As befit the sole Overlord in the country, the Emperor did not back down an inch. “We do not waste resources in times of war. But if your death will grant us the chance at an audience with a Monarch, yes, then your blood is cheap to us.”

Eithan stared down Naru Huan for a long moment as he considered.

The logic was sound. It took a moment for his feelings to catch up, but he accepted the decision. It was the right move.

Eithan's smile came back as though it had never left, and he bowed before his ruler. “Your command is my heart's desire. However, you have never sought the Akura family's support before. Why now?”

“In our reign, the Empire has never faced such a crisis.” The rampage of the Blackflame family had occurred during his mother's rule, so technically Naru Huan had never faced a true crisis. Well, this could be considered a test for him.

The Emperor paused a moment, then added, “We may also reveal that the Akura family has recently asked a service of us. As we have agreed to their terms, currently we are on better footing with their clan than we ever have been before.”

Fascinating. Eithan had been unaware that there was any more than incidental contact between the great Akura clan and the relatively unimportant Blackflame Empire. The Akura protected the Empire from dragons simply because they were both humans, but otherwise they were utterly apathetic. Only their lack of motivation kept them from enslaving the entire populace or razing them for cultivation resources.

What favor could the Emperor possibly do for a Monarch's family? Eithan was dying to find out.