Mercy looked as lost as the Underlord, stammering out an answer, but Lindon turned back to Eithan.
The Arelius Underlord drifted backwards to the corner of the ceiling, over Naru Gwei's head. Lindon was the only one watching him.
It was hard to keep his expression blank.
The Underlord withdrew his Thousand-Mile Cloud and released his veil at the same time, dropping to his feet behind the Skysworn Captain and clapping his hand on the man's shoulder.
Naru Gwei tensed up, his eyes closing as though he were holding himself back from taking a swing.
Mercy gasped, Yerin groaned, and Orthos stuck his head out of his shell. Bai Rou leaped back, conjuring a fistful of yellow liquid madra, and Dross choked again.
Eithan leaned in next to the Captain's face, grinning ear to ear. “Well, based on this new information, it seems I was correct once again. You should be used to that by now.”
“We have no evidence of that,” Naru Gwei said, clenching his hand into a fist.
Eithan turned to address Mercy. “Young miss Akura, I have suggested that this year's competition between Monarch disciples will spill over to affect us here in the Blackflame Empire. Tell me, have you seen any signs of your clan putting unusual emphasis on raising up their young elites?”
Yerin turned to him, suspicion on her face. “The Akura Sage said something with about the same shape to it. There's a competition coming, or so she said. It's why all those Truegolds were on the island.”
Mercy ran a hand across her shortened hair. She looked deep in thought. “If they sent Harmony and Aunt Charity to Ghostwater, then...I don't know if they'll involve you or not, but it does seem like the tournament is going to shake us up this year.”
Lindon still wanted to tell her exactly what had happened to Harmony. Or at least his role in it. But he wasn’t sure if she was afraid of being overheard or if she really didn’t care.
Still holding onto Naru Gwei's shoulder with one hand, Eithan reached out to lay a hand on Bai Rou. The Truegold Skysworn tried to dodge, but he might as well have stood still; Eithan's green gauntlet landed on top of his straw hat.
“Yet another reason why we can't afford to stifle the growth of such promising young talents!” Eithan said passionately. “Let us set aside the petty feuds of the young generation, and grow together for the good of the Blackflame Empire!”
It was a warm speech, but Naru Gwei spat the chewed-up remnants of his leaf at Eithan's feet.
Eithan smoothly slipped his shoe to one side and continued talking. “It's truly fortunate that I have come to support the Skysworn in your time of need, to raise our youth into responsible citizens and champions of the Blackflame Empire.”
“They have no loyalty to us,” Bai Rou said, eyes burning. “They are a weapon that will turn in our hand. They—”
Eithan cut him off by whirling on him and grabbing him by both shoulders. “Do you think I'd forgotten you? What a paragon of a young Truegold you are! Even among the children of the vaunted Akura clan, how many of them could possibly have talent to rival yours?”
Mercy started to speak up, but Eithan waved her to silence without turning from Bai Rou.
“How could you focus on this tiny grudge? It's beneath you! Let me take these children out of your way,” he turned to Naru Gwei, “and yours. I assure you, I will keep my sharpest eye on each of them.”
Dross spoke up. [Say, here’s an idle thought: do you think you could take me out of your head and put me in his? Not that I think he's better than you, or anything. Of course not. But uh...could you think about it?”]
Lindon wasn't actually sure if he could separate himself from Dross at all, but he started thinking very hard about pulling Dross out of his spirit and putting the construct back into a gem. Then dropping the gem into the ocean, where it would sit for decades.
Dross coughed. [Just a little joke. You know, a sense of humor would make you more popular. Maybe then people wouldn’t stare at you in the hall.]
“No,” Naru Gwei said to Eithan. “I trust you least of all. If I use them, I'll be splitting them up and stationing them in different cities.”
When Eithan spoke, his words reverberated in Lindon's spiritual sense like a gong. “I, Eithan Arelius, hereby swear on my soul that if I am allowed to take these young sacred artists as my Skysworn squad, I will do everything in my power to lead them to their own benefit and the benefit of the Blackflame Empire.”
His voice continued to echo, and Naru Gwei looked stunned. Eithan's smile crept upward, and he added, “In addition, I will follow your lawful orders in the course of my duties, and...” He paused for maximum effect. “...I will personally spend no more time in your presence than required.”
“Deal,” Naru Gwei shouted immediately, as though he feared the moment would pass. Their spirits both quivered, so that even Lindon could sense it, and Eithan spread his hands and his grin wide.
“Brilliant! Easy enough. Ladies, gentleman, turtle, if you will follow me, I believe I am now obligated to give our honorable Captain some space.”
Yerin looked around the room, then pulled her Goldsigns close to her back. She shook her head, a smirk on her face, and walked from the room.
Orthos chuckled and said something to Eithan, butting the side of his shell up against the Underlord's hip. Eithan laughed and rested his hand on the turtle’s head, and the two of them walked out as well.
Mercy looked bewildered, but she bowed to both Naru Gwei and Bai Rou before leaving, using her staff like a walking stick.
Lindon made sure he was the last to leave the room.
He was watching Naru Gwei, who melted into his chair with a sigh of absolute release.
Bai Rou spoke up. “He got exactly what he wanted,” the Skysworn said, his deep voice laced with anger. “You let him—”
The Underlord slapped the table, letting out a loud bang. He left an indentation of his hand pressed into the wood.
“Bai Rou,” he said, “shut up. Just...shut up.”
Chapter 4
Only a day later, Lindon found himself with a new set of armor inside a Skysworn training facility. The room was a stone box reinforced by scripts to withstand the high-intensity sparring of Truegolds, and targets and training weapons leaned up against one wall while benches lined the other.
Yerin staggered stiffly in the middle of the floor, trying to bend her arms. The green armor sat on her like she’d been encased in stone, and she stomped around as though she had weights tied to each limb, her Goldsigns sticking out from the back. They had worked together to find adjustable panels on the back that could be removed in order to allow her sword-arms the freedom to move.
“It's like locking myself in a box,” Yerin grumbled. She tugged at her collar, but the leather padding of the interior was stiff. “If I have to fight in this, at least I'll be wearing my own coffin.”
Mercy propped one leg up on a bench, doing a few quick stretches in her armor. She actually looked more comfortable in the green plate of the Skysworn than she did in her normal clothes, and she looked pleased while patting her armor. “How do I look?” She straightened up from her stretch, transforming her staff into a bow and striking a pose.
With a sound like tinkling glass, Little Blue applauded. Mercy bowed to the spirit, and Yerin shot her a jealous look.
“This is the only sensible thing I've seen any human wear,” Orthos said. “But it does leave your head unprotected.”
Lindon hadn't put on a single piece of his armor, though he wore the tight-fitting cloth suit that you were supposed to wear beneath it. He was sitting nearby, flipping through the armor's manual.
He tapped a page. “There are defensive constructs in the armor that cover the head. That's the real defense, more than the armor itself. And there are protective scripts circling the neck.”