“That I did. It was something of a bluff, but you know how it is. Sometimes these things get away from you.”
“I don’t know how to lead a sect!”
“I, of course, considered that you might feel that way. Not a problem at all. I would just like to borrow your image as a figurehead. That might work even better, in its own way; you could be the enigmatic mysterious expert backing our operations from the shadows.”
Lindon gave Eithan a sidelong glance, but the man looked perfectly sincere.
“Apologies, but I thought you would try to trick me into doing it.”
“Lindon! Lindon. Lindon. How dare you say something so hurtful and yet so accurate.”
Lindon continued staring at him, and Eithan’s usual smile faded a bit. “Believe it or not, I had intended to consult you first. I had a plan for a grand reveal and everything. You do like tiger meat, don’t you? Anyway, events got ahead of me, and I had to work quickly to bail out of a complicated situation. I do apologize.”
Lindon shook his head. “No need.”
“What?”
“This is perfect.” Lindon’s mind was whirling. “We had to keep borrowing the name of House Arelius or the Akura clan, but now we can act on our own. You know what we can do with an organization behind us? Besides…” He winced as his enthusiasm was too much for his fractured Remnant arm. “You taught me my cycling technique and guided me in my pure madra techniques. You have more right to the Path of Twin Stars than anyone but me. And Dross.”
Eithan looked from his own bandages to Lindon’s sling. “If I hugged you right now, would that put an awkward strain on our relationship?”
“It would certainly strain our injuries.”
“Then just know that I embrace you in spirit.” Eithan settled down on his cloud. “As you can imagine, many of the people around here no longer have anywhere to belong. And no one in several hundred miles has ever had a real sacred arts education. We need teachers, and refiners, and more resources…but most of all, we need somewhere to settle that doesn’t have the word ‘desolate’ in its name. Or Dreadgods lurking nearby.”
“I assume we’ll use whatever portal you brought Windfall through.” That hadn’t even struck Lindon as odd. When he’d seen the cloud fortress appear out of nowhere, Eithan’s presence had been the only explanation Lindon needed. Clearly, Eithan had set up some kind of transportation between here and Moongrave, or had bartered with the Monarch.
Eithan became interested in his own fingernails. “As…eager as I am to claim credit for that, it actually crawled out of a shadow without warning or explanation. I begin to wonder if Malice has some kind of grudge against me.”
“Why? Sending the fortress back was a favor.”
“It was my shadow that it popped out of.”
Presumably Lindon’s family had been aboard; he could sense them nearby. Not that their presence was entirely a relief. They would have been perfectly safe in Moongrave.
“They should have room for us in the Blackflame Empire,” Lindon said. “Naru Saeya suggested the Emperor was very pleased with us.”
Eithan sighed. “Yes, it does, and just between you and me and any Monarchs that happen to be eavesdropping on us, I suspect they’ll be sending some cloudships for us soon. They won’t have missed a Dreadgod’s rampage, and they know we were involved. Naru Huan has an opportunity. But we would be the most powerful beings in the Empire by a huge margin. Our presence could change the entire landscape of the nation, not to mention their relationship with the Akura clan.”
Lindon chewed on that for a long moment. If he wasn’t qualified to lead a sect, he certainly didn’t feel qualified to give his opinion on international politics.
Then again, he was a Sage now.
“Moving to the Empire solves our problems,” Lindon said at last. “If they want us to leave later, we can. But there are too many people here, and even clean water is expensive. We have to move.”
“We do, but relocating into the Blackflame Empire will cause much to change. There’s no telling how everything will fall out.” Eithan paused. “I withdraw my objections. That sounds exciting!”
They were only a few steps from Lindon’s house, but instead of drifting up to the door, Eithan led his Thousand-Mile Cloud to the edge of the floating island. He looked down onto the twisted green-and-black trees of the Desolate Wilds.
People were camped everywhere, crammed into shacks, hasty walls and scripts protecting them. The protections didn’t look like they would survive a stiff breeze in the night, much less an actual attack.
Of course, if there was an actual attack from anything less than a Monarch, Lindon would sense it coming from miles away and take care of it before any of those below were in any real danger. But he couldn’t be everywhere all the time.
“This is what a sect is for,” Eithan said. “We can’t do everything. At some point, they have to protect themselves.”
Lindon watched an Iron man from Sacred Valley bowing to a Lowgold child from the Wilds, and he nodded. Without someone around who was Underlord or better, the first Truegold-level dreadbeast to attack would tear through this crowd like a wolf through sheep.
And he could sense the tension quivering in the air like a vibration in the vital aura. These people had all lived through a Dreadgod rampage, and they never knew when it might return.
The only ones who looked confident were those wearing the Sect of Twin Stars logo. They belonged to an organization that would survive. One that could protect them.
“I see,” Lindon said.
“I thought you would.”
Orthos hovered over the black, corrupted trees of the Desolate Wilds, just outside the camp the refugees from Sacred Valley were using for shelter. The turtle was suspended on flows of vital aura, scripts directing life aura to him to regenerate his wounds.
Lindon looked up from the shadow as the giant sacred beast blotted out the sun.
Orthos rotated in the air, one smoldering red-and-black eye rolling to see Lindon. “Tell these children to lower me to the ground. I can stay still myself.”
A team of sixteen Truegold elders—the best the region had to offer—sweated and labored over scripts and natural treasures. They stared at Orthos with fear, but toward Lindon they demonstrated only polite respect.
They could sense how powerful Orthos was, and at the moment, he was almost half the size of a Dreadgod. He could roll over and crush a town.
As for Lindon, if he didn’t remove his veil, they couldn’t feel his power at all. As far as they knew, he may have just been a Jade. But his powerful friends treated him well, so they followed suit.
Lindon controlled wind aura to levitate up to Orthos so they could speak eye-to-eye. He looked down to survey the Truegolds, who were slightly more impressed now that they had seen his skilled control of aura. Although this was nothing a Gold on a wind Path couldn’t do.
“They’re working under Eithan’s instructions,” Lindon pointed out. “I doubt they’d listen to me unless I forced them.”
Orthos grumbled, which sent a covey of startled birds fluttering into the air. “It’s good luck for them that I’m not in a bad mood. If I broke this formation, I’d squash them.”
Some Truegolds went pale and stepped back. Orthos couldn’t keep his voice down when he was big enough to swallow cloudships.
“Now that you’re awake…” Lindon hesitated, unsure how to phrase his thoughts properly. “I’ve heard of giant sacred beasts, and I knew you were going to transform. But how…”
Orthos laughed, and several of the Golds lost their feet. “Bigger than you expected?”
“I thought you’d be a dragon,” Lindon admitted.
“What do you call someone who violates their own soul?” Orthos asked. “What do you call a trash human who does something that no one with a conscience would ever consider? You say they’re inhuman, don’t you? It’s your actions that determine what you are on the inside.”