Eithan looked unconcerned, smiling gently as the wind pulled his long yellow hair behind him. He wore the emerald armor of the Skysworn more naturally than any of them, and Lindon had wondered more than once if he’d had the shape modified for style.
“I’ve been making the most of my freedom since you stripped me of my position,” Eithan said. “Making the Empire a better place one locked-up smuggler at a time.”
Cassias stepped forward, looking ready to draw his sword. “I did not strip you of anything, the branch heads did, and I took it on myself to inform you. And they had good reason. You don’t do your job, Eithan! They cut off your funding and authority to force you to come back and face the family. The Emperor himself allowed it! And we’ve heard less from you than ever!”
Eithan’s smile grew tight. “You don’t think we could do this somewhere more comfortable?” The sun was setting, and the wind was growing uncomfortably cold.
Cassias threw up his hands. “I think you’ll run off! I’ve spent the whole season trying to track you down, and now I think you’ll disappear if I take my eyes off you for an instant! You always do that!”
He did tend to do that a lot, Lindon realized. Though he appeared out of nowhere even more often.
“Very well, then,” Eithan said, and suddenly he radiated a presence that Lindon had only felt from him a handful of times before. It had nothing to do with the power of his spirit, which was still veiled. It was more subtle than that; a sense of authority, as though he was suddenly possessed by the Remnant of a king.
“When I arrived from the homeland,” Eithan said, “I agreed to take over the Patriarch position for the Blackflame branch of the clan, but I also made it clear to your father that I had plans and goals of my own. His memory is short, for only seven years later, I find that he is dissatisfied with my level of service. Very well, then. Let it be as though I never traveled through that gate.”
His blue eyes were cold. “If you cannot trust me, then leave me to my own devices.”
Cassias actually did draw a few inches of his sword, releasing the power of his spirit. It was only then that Lindon noticed that he’d advanced; he was a Truegold now.
Though, Truegold or Highgold, it was still suicide to throw himself at Eithan.
Cassias shoved his sword back harshly, but his words carried his fury. “Trust you? Why?”
His spirit was still unveiled, and he walked straight up to Eithan, unafraid, until they stood only a hand’s breadth apart. Eithan was three or four inches taller, but Cassias stared him down. “You tell us that what you’re doing is in the best interests of the family, but how are we supposed to know that? Do you know what it’s like to have to take something like that on faith? Truly, I mean it, do you even know? Do you know how frustrating it is to not know everything?”
Their blue eyes clashed for a long, frozen moment. Lindon knew they weren’t closely related, but at the moment, they looked like brothers.
To Lindon’s surprise, Eithan was the first to soften.
The intangible sense of authority faded. His shoulders slumped, and he raised an armored finger to rub his nose.
“That…is…a…painfully valid point,” Eithan finally admitted.
Cassias did not relent. “Come to the family elders. Most of them are on their way here. You can meet them before the Emperor’s deadline.”
Lindon and the team had spent much of their time over the last few weeks supervising the caravans of people traveling to Blackflame City to make the Emperor’s two-month timeline. He had called upon all major factions to send their best, especially their strongest and most talented disciples.
Lindon was vague on the details because the decree itself was. The Emperor did not see fit to explain his motivations to his Empire…or, at least, not in a publicly distributed command. Lindon gathered that the Blackflame Empire had gathered for a selection process, probably one associated with the international tournament coming up, but he had little to go on other than that.
Eithan probably knew the details, but that was to be expected.
“I will not meet with them,” Eithan said, holding up a hand to stave off Cassias’ anger. “But I will resume my duties as an Underlord. Not as the Patriarch, but I can produce scales and supervise the distribution of our personnel here in the capital. I know that we’re stretched to our limits with so many people in such a small area.”
Cassias took in a slow breath, then stepped back. “That will help. Thank you. But I have one further request.” He looked briefly at Lindon and Yerin. “It would help our standing greatly if our family could take one of the positions in the Uncrowned King tournament. We would be practically guaranteed to replace the Jai clan.”
“Uncrowned King tournament?” Lindon immediately repeated.
Yerin’s eyes widened. “Bleed and bury me, that’s the competition everyone’s all riled up about? I don’t even believe the Blackflame Empire can afford a seat to watch that tournament.”
Mercy looked to Yerin in surprise. “You’re familiar with it?”
Eithan smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me. Her master famously made it to the top eight three tournaments ago.”
“If the sun fell from the sky and landed on your head, would that surprise you?” Yerin asked.
Eithan pondered for a moment before answering, “Yes.”
Cassias took over the explanation. “The Heart Sage is choosing three Underlords from the young generation to represent the Akura vassal states in the tournament. I suspect Eithan—”
“—already has his candidates picked out,” Eithan said, throwing out his arms. “If it all works out, I’ll be able to provide all three candidates. And two of them officially have the name ‘Arelius,’ so it still looks good for us.”
Lindon and Yerin traded glances. He was clearly pointing to them, and they had been adopted into the Arelius family.
Cassias’ eyebrows raised. “Three?”
“Three?” Mercy repeated.
Eithan met her eyes and smiled. “Three,” he said. “…if everything works out, as I said.”
Cassias was quiet for a long moment, staring at Eithan and drumming his fingers on the hilt of his sword.
At last, he said, “I suppose I’ve taken everything else from you on faith. One more time won’t kill me.”
~~~
Two months since the Emperor had called for all the young Truegolds in the Empire to travel to the capital, Blackflame City was packed.
In his emerald armor, standing on a broad raft of cloud, Eithan led their pack. Orthos huddled behind him, head withdrawn, and Lindon could feel his nerves.
Mercy and Yerin followed afterwards, Mercy straddling her bow, and Yerin standing on a Thousand-Mile Cloud of her own. They all wore the green armor of the Skysworn, though Yerin looked no more comfortable in hers than she had two months ago.
Little Blue sat on Lindon’s collar, snuggling against his chin, though she was almost too big to do that anymore. She chirruped to him like a spirited bird.
Somehow, Lindon thought she was talking about the view.
[What? That's insane. Could you really? I don’t think you could,] Dross responded. Then he lowered his mental voice. [She's a little too enthusiastic about flying, don't you think? You should watch her so she doesn't jump.]
As nervous as Lindon had initially been about doing tasks for the Skysworn, he had ended up resting plenty over the last eight weeks. They often spent a few hours in travel to a simple job, and returned in time to eat, train, and sleep.