In some ways, though, Little Blue was more startling.
Rather than a spirit, she resembled a woman made up to look like one. Her skin was pale blue, but solid and opaque, and her deep navy hair was actually hair.
If he hadn’t sensed their connection, he might have doubted their identities. Though their eyes were the same.
And Blue gave a loud cheer when she saw him, running over and throwing herself into him with arms wrapped around his neck. Orthos folded his own arms across his chest and snorted smoke.
“I thought you knew we could do it,” Orthos grumbled. “You look shocked.”
Lindon held out his left hand to Orthos. “It’s not over yet.”
Orthos clasped Lindon’s palm, and Lindon pushed Northstrider’s power out through their bond.
The grip tightened as Orthos stiffened, and Lindon felt him struggling with the sudden influx of madra and willpower. The weight he was bearing lifted from Lindon, and relief spread through Lindon’s spirit like a sigh.
But it wasn’t only madra that Lindon intended to pass on. He focused on the Dragon Icon, on the authority that had come from Northstrider. The same that he felt from the Weeping Dragon, and what he’d sensed from Seshethkunaaz.
He had a thousand memories of dragons, and now he understood what they meant. Dross helped him convey that meaning to Orthos.
No one had spent longer meditating on the nature of dragons than Orthos.
The Dragon Icon clicked like a key into a lock, covering the ceiling of the labyrinth in its image. A realistic, fully rendered image of a long, serpentine black dragon.
Orthos’ power suddenly expanded, growing deeper and broader. This transformation wasn’t as dramatic as most advancements, but it was even more fundamental.
Red-on-black eyes lowered to meet Lindon, and Lindon saw a spark of fire in their depths. The authority of a Dragon Sage.
His grip tightened around Lindon’s hand as Orthos exerted as much strength as he could to test his newfound power.
Lindon gave him an apologetic look. This wasn’t a fair contest. Orthos was trying to strangle a boulder.
Dark eyes narrowed, and the Icon overhead gave a defiant roar. “Stronger!” Orthos commanded, and the word carried the authority of a dragon.
Under the Sage working, Orthos’ grip tightened to the point that the world warped slightly around their hands.
“Well done!” Lindon said in an encouraging tone.
Little Blue’s tinkling laughter sounded strange coming from a human throat.
Orthos growled to himself, focusing everything he had on his grip. “All right, show me what you can do.”
Lindon hesitated. “That’s not a fair—”
“I have to know.”
As Orthos wished, Lindon tightened the grip of his human hand.
Sage bodies couldn’t conduct willpower like a Herald’s could, though strength-related Icons like the Dragon Icon helped. But Lindon’s body was halfway between a Herald’s and a Dreadgod’s. Most comparable to a Monarch’s.
He was physically powerful enough to match fists with Northstrider, so this was, truly, an unfair contest.
Orthos resisted for a second or two before his authority was completely overwhelmed. His bones began to creak, and his hand trembled involuntarily.
“…All right!” he shouted at last. Lindon released him.
Orthos pulled back his twisted claw of a hand, muttering to himself. “Feels like there’s no getting close to you, no matter what I do. For every step I take, you’ve taken two.”
“Take two steps,” Lindon suggested.
Orthos spat a burst of fire madra into Lindon’s face. Of course, it did nothing.
Little Blue shook Lindon back and forth by the shoulders. She didn’t say anything that could be called communication, even by her usual standards, but Lindon could translate the feeling he was getting through her contracted bond. “Me next!”
He looked into her oceanic eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
She responded enthusiastically with wordless cheers, even releasing him to jump up and down.
Lindon had already begun the process of moving them to another chamber, but he still reflected that seeing Little Blue act like a foot-tall spirit while in the body of a grown human woman was…strange.
The labyrinth shifted around them, to a mostly empty room. He had chosen this one because it was surrounded by scripts that would seal off excess power, which was important in the advancement to Herald.
When they arrived, Little Blue dropped to her knees and held out her left hand. He took it and tapped into his pure core.
At this level, she could handle the full density of his madra. Northstrider’s powers wouldn’t help her as much as they’d helped Orthos, but there were still benefits. His blood essence, in particular—his physical strength—would help her form a real body. As much as she looked like a human now, she was still fundamentally a spirit.
That was about to change.
He could feel Little Blue’s concentration, impatience, and firm will.
So he flooded power into her, to trigger her advancement to Herald.
His pure madra filled up her core from the inside while Northstrider’s blood and life essence soaked into her body.
Dross popped up next to Lindon’s head. [Remember, for spirits, the process of advancing to Herald is—] Flesh wove around Little Blue’s body as she guided her spirit to manifest physically. [—oh, you get it. You’re doing it. Good for you, then.]
The process of absorbing and purifying so many Blood Shadows had helped Little Blue in more ways than one. Her understanding of herself and the nature of spirits had surpassed most Archlords. Maybe even Lindon’s.
[Not mine,] Dross whispered to him. [There are advantages to never being weighed down by bloated, meaty flesh.]
Spirits reached Herald in the opposite way that humans and sacred beasts did. Rather than manifesting their Remnant and integrating with it, they had to form their spirits into a body.
Which Little Blue did with no problems.
Now, she imposed her will onto reality, creating a real vessel for herself.
Aura and soulfire raged around her. Not that this process needed natural treasures, but she now radiated dream and blood aura in a way she hadn’t before.
Finally, the storm of power settled down, and Little Blue opened her eyes. They were similar to the eyes she had before—the same eyes Lindon had once shown when he tapped into pure madra—but now they glistened like jewels.
From a seated cycling position, Little Blue stuck both fists into the air. “Yay!” she said.
Lindon felt his, Orthos’, and Dross’ surprise at the same time.
“Blue?” Lindon asked hesitantly. “Can you…speak?”
“Mmm-hmmm!” Little Blue said.
Dross drifted around her to see her from every angle. [There’s no reason she shouldn’t. She knows the words. Say something! Say… “Dross!”]
Little Blue flicked Dross in the forehead. When he blasted across the room and slammed into the wall, she giggled.
The wall of the labyrinth didn’t break, of course, but Dross’ form tumbled to the floor. He drifted up a moment later, purple eye glaring. [That hostility was not warranted.]
Little Blue stuck out her tongue.
“You need a proper name now,” Orthos said. “Little Blue is not the name of a person.”
Little Blue nodded and pointed to her own nose.
Orthos choked. “No, I mean…well, yes, it is your name. But it makes you sound like a pet.”
[Or a mascot!] Dross suggested. [For a business. We saw a ‘Little Blue Fishing Company’ in Moongrave, didn’t we, Lindon? We did.]
Blue turned to Lindon, so he asked her. “Do you want another name?”
She shook her head rapidly, sending blue hair flailing.
“All right, then. Little Blue it is.”
[We can do better than that!] Dross insisted. [Yerin named the Blood Shadow Ruby. How about Sapphire?]