“It is a personal revelation,” Eithan said. “A true, deep understanding of yourself that causes the soulfire inside you to resonate with the aura around you, activating your advancement.”
Yerin looked thoughtful, crossing green-plated arms awkwardly, her Goldsigns hovering over her head. Mercy looked surprisingly grim, though Lindon couldn't see why, and wistfulness drifted over from Orthos' soul, as though he'd heard a story about something he wanted but could never have.
Little Blue peeped and ran back into Lindon’s pocket, curling up for a nap.
Lindon committed the process to memory, though he was sure he'd write it down later. What else do you know about reaching Underlord? he asked Dross silently.
The construct's voice was filled with longing. [Everything…or at least I did. It was like being a piece of all knowledge in the universe, all of it at once, and then it was like getting rudely torn away and tossed into some human's head. Which is, you know…great.]
Forgiveness. I did not intend to hurt you. Even the smallest fragment of what you remember could be helpful.
[...you're too serious, I know I’ve told you that before. I was only complaining.] Dross sighed. [Listen, you won't have any trouble with the first step. Not once you get your pure core up to standard. It's scrawny right now, a little wimpy, so you’re going to want to beef that up. Put some meat on those bones. Second step...well, not to brag, but I can handle that one. No problem. You have to sense the unity of aura, which is a lot easier with a mind-spirit in your head.]
This time, Lindon wished he could take notes, but he still didn't want to expose his void key to Mercy. Or to Eithan, for that matter.
He wanted to surprise Eithan when he would get a better reaction.
[The third step is the weird one. You’ll want to discover your reason for practicing the sacred arts.]
That’s it? How does my motivation change anything? He had experienced dream tablets left behind by Lords, and he could still imagine the feeling of channeling soulfire. He was sure that the secret to advancement was a soulfire cycling technique.
What did his knowledge of himself have to do with advancement? It almost didn’t feel like sacred arts at all.
[If my memories of Northstrider have taught me anything,] Dross said, [it’s that the sacred arts only get weirder.]
Eithan clapped his hands, staring off into space. “As it turns out, we're even more limited on time than I expected, so now that we're all armored up, I'm going to give you a choice.”
Lindon started hurriedly pulling his armor on. He would have to keep his right arm under control until he could script some longer-term safety measures into the suit.
Eithan tilted his head to the left. “We can go on some secret missions I've discovered that would be of great benefit to the Empire, or...” He tilted his head the other way. “...we can embark on the most efficient way I know to train you to Underlord. It's entirely up to you.”
“The missions!” Mercy said, raising her staff.
“Underlord,” Lindon and Yerin said at the same time.
Eithan gasped. “This is an amazing coincidence, because the most efficient way I have to train you requires us to earn a great deal of money. And the most profitable prospect available to us—” He held up a stack of papers. “—is to complete missions for the Skysworn!”
Orthos chuckled. Yerin gave Eithan a flat stare. Mercy looked excited. Little Blue let out a little whistling snore and curled up tighter in Lindon’s pocket.
Lindon asked, “What about the Arelius family?”
He knew that Eithan was restricted by what the family would allow him to spend, but surely the greatest source of funding available quickly would be from the Arelius family.
Eithan cleared his throat. “We're having a temporary disagreement of sorts. Suffice it to say that I do not have the same access to family funds that I used to.”
Lindon didn’t want to pry further, but his heart fell. Without the resources of the Arelius family, advancing would become that much more difficult.
“I’ve come across some good fortune in Ghostwater,” he admitted, though it speared him through the gut to be volunteering his spoils of war. “Works of art I…recovered…from a gold dragon. They aren’t any help in the sacred arts, but Orthos suggested we could sell them.”
He hated to give up money he could use, but if Eithan really knew of a way to advance them all together, then Lindon would contribute.
Eithan clapped him on the back. “Generosity! Truly, the disciple takes after his master. Now, we have to get going! Those sewer spirits won't blow themselves up.”
~~~
Yerin had worked for the Arelius family before, and she'd never say out loud that she missed it. Working for the Skysworn was much the same.
It was nice to have a mission and a purpose that was simple enough to complete. Sewer spirits formed out of corruptive, toxic aura, and grew until they could squeeze their way up into homes, eating pets and weak Remnants. Just had to track them down and dice them up, then track them back to their source. The Arelius family would have to clean up the mess at the center of it all, but the Skysworn existed to keep the peace in the sacred arts world. Dealing with spirits that got too strong was their job.
A few days after that, they chased down a circle of renegade Soulsmiths selling faulty healing constructs. They had hired a pack of Truegold sacred beasts as muscle, so that one ended up getting a little heated.
For ten more days, they recovered stolen weapons, hunted Remnants to replenish their Soulsmith supply, and guarded a farm from a group that the Soulsmith called bandits. They ended up being hungry locals, driven from their homes after the Dreadgod attack, who agreed to stop making trouble in exchange for a crate full of food.
In between everything else, they had to supervise the Emperor's latest decree. He had called every sect, school, and clan that mattered a notch to Blackflame City, and even Stormrock was drifting in that direction. They passed over caravans, cloudships, and processions of sacred artists heading to the capital, and of course a few holds and sects that didn't want to listen.
Intimidating stubborn Truegolds into following orders was a bright spot in her day. Wasn't too long ago that they could have swept the floor with her, and now they had to straighten up their spines as soon as she walked in the door.
Besides, now that Lindon had a proper spirit in him, he had a natural gift for sharp looks. It made her heart warm to see him make a white-haired elder choke using nothing but a black-eyed stare. The baby squirrel had finally left the nest and grown into a...well, squirrels never turned into anything scary. Call it an ancient sacred squirrel.
They had taken their first steps toward becoming a real team, too. Mercy had no problem taking care of Remnants or feeding the hungry, but she couldn't scare so much as a baby kitten. Orthos had no interest in anything complicated; he just wanted to know what to knock over. A turtle after her own heart.
Little Blue...still wouldn't touch Yerin.
That didn't bother Yerin. Why should it? The spirit looked so happy riding around on Lindon's shoulder, pointing out the scenery they passed, scampering up on his head to get a better look.
...maybe she should get a Sylvan of her own.
Everyone was working as a merry team except one. On his own, Eithan could have done as much as the rest of the squad, but he seemed happier to sit back and watch them. He didn't talk to the citizens, he didn't fight, he only pointed them in the right direction and watched.
Lindon didn't say anything, but Yerin could tell it was pushing him to the edge of a cliff. He tried every night to get Eithan to train him in pure madra techniques, but Eithan always said Lindon wasn’t ready.
Yerin couldn't imagine what he was waiting for, but he was starting to get on the wrong side of her, too. What right did he have to treat Lindon like that?