That reminded Lindon of something, but before he could voice it, Eithan nodded to him. “You've seen one of the shallowest corners of this massive labyrinth in the Desolate Wilds. What they called the Transcendent Ruins was, in reality, just a corner of this huge maze that stretches all over the Empire. There are entrances all over, but to have seen one is your good fortune.”
“Two,” Lindon said. “There was one in my homeland.”
He remembered the ancestor's tomb in the Heaven's Glory sect, and a stone door marked with four beasts.
Now, that carving carried an eerie significance.
“Is that so?” Eithan asked, surprised. “Well, you're lucky indeed. And even luckier that you didn't explore too far inside. The dragons of the first Blackflame Empire found that out firsthand when they plundered weapons from the depths of the labyrinth. At first, they only took Highgold or Truegold devices, wanting to study them, but they became greedy for more when they learned that the weapons had such miraculous effects.”
“The Ancestor's Spear,” Lindon said.
“One of the weakest objects in the maze. The spear wasn’t even unique, you know, though it is enough to dazzle the eyes of anyone below Truegold.” Eithan stared longingly into the distance. “The labyrinth is a true treasure trove, but there's a reason we've left it undisturbed for so long, only nibbling at the corners every once in a while in places like the Desolate Wilds. Because when the dragons delved deeper, withdrawing Lord treasures like the Archstone...”
He paused, picking up from a different point. “You should understand that the dragons left the doors open for years as they explored the labyrinth, making war on one another and settling petty grudges with their new weaponry. They didn't realize that something in that place drew the Dreadgods like wolves to fresh meat.
“Records of that disaster are very spotty, as you might expect. But the warnings they left are clear. Most of this continent was reduced to a blasted wasteland, from which it has not entirely recovered even to this day. Billions of people and sacred beasts died, and the former Blackflame Empire was nothing more than a Remnant haunt for generations.”
Eithan slowly shook his head. “We can't know how many dragons survived, but it wasn't more than a handful. The survivors returned all their weapons to the labyrinth, leaving dire warnings to future generations. To delve past the shallows of this maze is to invite death. They destroyed as many of the entrances as they could, and sealed up the rest.”
“And Jai Daishou opened one?” Lindon asked.
“Desperate men cannot see beyond their own desperation,” Eithan said, with the air of a man quoting. “There was an entrance to the labyrinth in his territory. He would have kept the door open for less than a day. A minor risk, he must have thought, though a risk to the entire Empire. When he brought out the Archstone, Naru Gwei and I knew what he had done. We knew that he had risked bringing the Dreadgods down on us once again.”
A wisp of Lindon's anger rose up again. “You pushed him to it.”
Eithan held up a finger. “I closed off his options to push him to do something foolish. Otherwise, I'd have been leaving my reputation entirely on the outcome of a single fight. I don't prefer to gamble without an overwhelming advantage.”
“But you knew exactly what he had. You knew it was a hidden weapon, you weren't guessing.”
“Yes, well, I was watching when he opened the door. I was shocked he would go so far as to risk the wrath of the Dreadgods, but there it is. That was my plan: to get him to incriminate himself in front of the Skysworn. Even if he had survived, with Jai Long victorious, his reputation—and that of the Jai clan—would never recover. They are the lowest-ranked of the great clans, and the Arelius are ranked number one among the major families. They will lose their spot in the Empire, and we will take it.”
He grimaced, looking uncertain for just a moment. “I am...sorry that you lost what you did. Only know that you were a part of something greater. The Arelius family will rise because of you, and you can only benefit from that.”
Lindon nodded, but his gut was still a little twisted. He shouldn't be complaining about a lost arm. Back in Sacred Valley, if Eithan had offered to raise him to Gold in exchange for a lost arm, he would have handed the man a saw himself.
But this didn't feel like he'd sacrificed something for a greater goal. It felt like he had been a pawn in the plans of the powerful.
“The Dreadgods,” Lindon said at last, trying to change the subject. “Are they coming for us?”
“Most likely not,” Eithan said. “But just in case, the Emperor is gathering his Underlords to him.”
“Will you fight them?”
Eithan let out a bark of a laugh. “As an Underlord? No, they could evaporate my blood from a hundred miles away. We'll be working to keep the populace under control in a state of emergency, should we see signs of a Dreadgod's approach. And we'll be messengers to the people that might actually help.”
Before Lindon could ask who, Eithan explained.
“The Monarchs. They're the most powerful individuals in our world, though the best they could hope for would be a stalemate. None could win a fight against a Dreadgod alone. Not Seshethkunaaz, not Akura Malice, not the Eight-Man Empire or the entire Ninecloud Court.”
Lindon's breath caught. He remembered two of those names, but he had never expected to hear them from Eithan.
How much did Eithan know about them? Monarchs, he'd said. Lindon had never heard the term applied to sacred arts. It sounded like there was a whole group of people at that stage, not just the three examples Suriel had shown him.
He took the thought to its natural conclusion, and a fist seemed to squeeze his lungs. Suriel had given him the names of three people with the power to save Sacred Valley: Sha Miara the Queen of the Ninecloud Court, Northstrider the dragon-eater, and the Eight-Man Empire.
If those were the most powerful people in the world, that meant whatever was approaching Sacred Valley was even more horrifying than he had imagined.
It might not be one of these Dreadgods, but it would be something equally destructive. He couldn't even imagine it.
“I've heard of them before,” Lindon said.
“I would imagine so. They're very famous.”
“No, in a vision. Suriel showed me. She said...they were the ones that could save my homeland.”
Eithan nodded slowly. Over the months, he had scraped most of the details of Suriel's visit from Lindon. All without giving up the details of his own vision. But Lindon had never been specific enough to name the individuals Suriel had shown him.
But that brought up another point, and Lindon could sense an opportunity. He seized it.
“Speaking of visions...” he began, and Eithan's back straightened.
“Later,” Eithan promised.
“I lost an arm for your plans,” Lindon said, the heat of Blackflame leaking into his voice. “I have earned your trust.”
It was perhaps the most firmly Lindon had ever spoken to Eithan, and a trembling part of Lindon's mind—the part that still remembered being Unsouled—begged him to apologize. But Lindon kept staring into Eithan's blue eyes.
“I owe you a full explanation,” Eithan said. “And I will give you one. The more you grow, the more I can share with you. For now, I beg you to trust me.”
That was an irritating non-answer, but Eithan spoke more earnestly and openly than he almost ever did.