Her advancement will be reverted, as that too was a result of Akura family training. She will return to Lowgold, and she will have to advance from there without the assistance or guidance of the Akura family.
She may keep only her personal belongings, as well as her bow and her Book, for neither of those can be taken from her without damaging her spirit. However, as a Lowgold, she will be able to evoke only a small fraction of their power.
Mercy and Malice make a bet.
For as long as Mercy can survive on her own under such limitations, without the full measure of her talent or her family’s support, Malice will place no requirements on her. She will live without the weight of responsibility, as she pleases.
However, if she cannot—if she fails or dies—then she must embrace her identity and become the heir to the Akura clan once again.
Suggested topic: Akura Mercy’s little brother, Pride.
Denied, report complete.
~~~
As the swords slipped through her ribs, Mercy felt one thing through the overwhelming pain: regret. She’d lost.
Not the fight.
Her bet.
After Seishen Daji turned to walk away, he froze. Everything did, including—thankfully—Mercy’s pain.
Shadows rushed through the halls, casting the world in darkness. Only one point of light remained, like sunlight beaming down through clouds. Into that light stepped a woman.
She was beautiful, with a full figure and the poise of a queen. She wore a rich, black dress of silken fabric hung with a web of delicate silver chains, as though she had been draped in the world’s most expensive spiderweb. Each of those chains bore fat amethysts, which flashed in the light streaming from above. One silver chain wrapped around her forehead, holding the largest amethyst over her eyes.
Her hair flowed down to the small of her back, darker even than the night surrounding her. It hardly looked like it was made from real strands, but from liquid smoke or boiling shadow. Her hair billowed behind her, twisting and curling with a mind of its own. Her skin was pale, her lips painted black. At least, Mercy had always assumed it was paint.
And her eyes blazed with pure, endless purple light.
“Hello, Mother,” Mercy said.
Her voice came out a little strained around the wound in her chest, though she couldn’t feel it. The gemstone over Malice’s eyes flashed, and Mercy’s flesh knitted together. She took a deep breath, rising shakily to her feet.
She held Suu in one hand, and the bow’s dragon head swiveled down to look at Malice. The dragon’s eyes closed in respect. Mercy had to lean on the staff to push herself to her feet.
“You admit your loss?” Malice asked, her every word graceful.
“Yes.” Mercy had chosen to give up her bet so that she could save Lindon and Yerin, but she still felt some regret. And a touch of despair. She had enjoyed being out on her own.
But it had been worth it. If Daji had joined Kiro or Meira, Mercy’s friends wouldn’t have survived.
Her freedom for her friends’ lives was a good trade.
Malice sighed, reaching a hand out for her daughter. Mercy took it. The Monarch’s fingers were perfectly soft. They didn’t feel like they could crush steel like butter.
“This is not the end of your freedom, Mercy. It is the beginning. Power is the ability to do as you wish. You will always be the toy of those who have more of it than you do. You have seen that.”
Mercy had felt that lesson pushed through her ribcage. With her sacred arts sealed, she couldn’t stop Daji from doing anything he wanted.
“I have. But I still don’t understand the rest of the family. They would sell their own firstborn if they thought you would grant them favor. Why? What’s the point?”
They’d had this argument already, on the day Mercy had left the family. She hadn’t been satisfied with her mother’s answers then, and she still wouldn’t be now.
But Mercy continued spilling out her feelings. This was probably a waste of a rare audience with her mother, but she couldn’t help it. “Why do we have to beg and crawl for every scrap?”
“You,” Akura Malice said, “don’t.”
She raised her free hand. Her nails had been painted the same purple as their bloodline armor…or maybe they had crystallized that way.
With her daughter’s hand in her left, she held her right over Mercy’s forehead. Cool, dark power flowed around her, and the Divine Treasure rose from Mercy’s soulspace. She knew it would be hovering behind her, a massive book of Forged madra that contained the power of her Path.
Malice’s voice now resonated with the oath she and Mercy had sworn together. “Akura Mercy, do you agree to abide by the restrictions of our pact?”
Mercy closed her eyes and thought of her Skysworn team. She hadn’t known them for long, but she would miss their time together.
This was the last thing she could do for them.
“I will return to the family,” Mercy said. “And my role and responsibilities therein.”
The oath loosened around her, pressure on her madra channels relaxing slightly. She had every intention of fulfilling her promise, which satisfied their soul oath. Though she did feel a pang of grief for opportunities lost.
She had wanted a little more time.
“Then in return, I lift the seal on the Book of Eternal Night. Let your power be returned to you.”
The first page flipped to the second, and Mercy felt her mastery of the Shadow’s Edge returned to her in full. Then the third page, and the Nightworm Venom flooded back.
Her spirit surged from Highgold all the way to the peak of Truegold on the edge of advancing. Where it belonged. Soulfire rushed from the book back into her spirit.
Mercy looked up expectantly. She was looking forward to what happened next.
A smile touched the edge of Malice’s lips, and she waved her hand again. “And also, I return to you the full measure of your physical talents.”
It was like her skin had been a poorly fitted suit, and now—with a shudder that passed through her bones—it had been tailored for her. She took a deep breath, stretching one arm, then another. She wiggled her fingers.
Her eyes grew hot with tears. It had been too long since her body had been hers again. To prove she could, she sprang into a backflip, spinning her staff all the way around her body as she did so. She landed in a handstand on the top of her staff.
Then she released one hand, holding it out to the side as she balanced on the other. There was nothing holding her up but the staff, and it didn’t even tremble.
Effortless.
Mercy dropped, spinning Suu into the air and catching it. She didn’t stumble. Didn’t fall.
“That was the worst part,” she admitted.
“To strip away what the family gave you, I had to include your Puppeteer’s Iron body and the results of your training. Even with your spirit restricted, you would have had it too easy.”
Malice rarely explained herself, but she looked as though she was relishing her daughter’s joy. That warmed Mercy’s heart, and she squeezed Malice’s fingers in return.
“The others curry favor with me because they can strive for nothing more,” Malice said. “You should be different. Ascending to the Lord realm means accepting who you are, not who you will be.”
“That’s what Aunt Charity said.”
“And who do you think taught her?”
Mercy smiled up at her mother, but Malice’s face was no longer pleasant. She was looking over Mercy’s shoulder, into the darkness.
“As per our arrangement, I expect you to advance immediately. I need you as an Underlady, not a Gold. Once you have, report directly to Charity for transport. You may not return to the Blackflame Empire.”
“Yes, mother,” Mercy whispered. Then she realized what Malice had said, and she looked up in confusion.
“You will lead our team in the Uncrowned King tournament. Fury and Pride will be informed. I expect you to represent us in the individual matches, so your instruction will resume at an increased pace. You have missed a year of training, and I need you in shape.”