Suriel had revived the dead, and Lindon was working with the same principles of restoration as she was. Albeit at a far, far, far lower level.
[Just fix it normally! Soulsmith it up!]
Lindon considered what the right command for removing this damage would be.
[You’re already tired! Take a break! Why not some nice, relaxing Soulsmithing?]
Lindon had every intention of ignoring Dross, but he still gave in without an attempt. He couldn’t figure out a way to frame this working so that the Void Icon would recognize it as removing damage.
No matter how he saw it, bringing something back from a state of total destruction was adding, not subtracting. He couldn’t work his way around that contradiction. It was probably possible, but certainly not easy.
Lindon summoned Genesis from his void space and switched it to the pure madra side, hammering Netherclaw back together. It wouldn’t work quite as well as it had before—this was something like stitching a wound closed. But it would hold for a while.
At least until Lindon had the material to make Yerin a real sword.
Speaking of which…
“Are you ready?” Lindon asked Dross.
[More ready than you are. You haven’t even given me a look. You should take it out of your soulspace, though, before your spirit ruptures.]
Lindon summoned the core binding of the Weeping Dragon.
Immediately, a gust of humid wind blew out of nowhere inside the isolated world of the Soulforge. Clouds began to form over Lindon’s head, lightning crackled from the runes on the platform beneath his feet, and he heard the distant echo of a dragon’s roar.
Before the Dragon Icon could form, Lindon reaffirmed his authority over the space. The effects died down, but the vital aura was still in chaos.
The Weeping Dragon’s core binding was a golden jewel of many facets, like a diamond as long as Lindon’s arm. Blue lightning flickered in its depths, and its edges shone blue. At the far end, the gemstone came to a point.
It had been larger than a house, but Lindon had compressed it down when he put it into his spirit. Physical size, for purely spiritual items, was largely a matter of choice.
Lindon and Dross immediately identified the different components of the binding, which could produce different techniques depending on how madra was circulated. But this looked more like a normal binding than the Silent King’s.
“This would make a great launcher,” Lindon noted.
Dross projected images all around the central altar of the Soulforge. Potential forms for the Weeping Dragon’s weapon.
[I’m partial to this one!] Dross’ tendril rested on a cannon.
It was similar to the Blackflame cannon Lindon had created in the past. Smooth and aggressive, the handheld launcher construct was modeled on the appearance of the Weeping Dragon.
Best of all, this binding could keep itself balanced. He wouldn’t need multiple Striker bindings like he had for his creations in the past.
Not that he would need more power. With Lindon’s power flowing through a cannon like this, he could pierce right through the Wandering Titan.
“Takes a lot of madra,” Lindon noted.
[You could fire it two, even three times! And it only takes two minutes in between shots!]
It would only take two minutes between shots if Lindon didn’t mind how long the construct lasted, but he wanted these weapons to follow them past their ascension. To give the cannon a long lifespan, he would need to perform maintenance after every shot.
The other functions, like summoning storms or living bolts of lightning infused with draconic will, could be used with impunity.
Lindon moved from the cannon and laid his hand on a spear. “This is the more balanced option, don’t you think?”
[Since when do you use a spear?]
“I wasn’t thinking it was for me.”
[Oh, are you planning on resurrecting Jai Long?] Dross paused with a tendril beneath his chin. [Was that too soon? No, I feel like it wasn’t soon enough.]
“This will give us an easier time after we advance.” That was one of the reasons they’d chosen a bow for the Silent King’s binding instead of something that could be more easily used by Dross. The physical form created connections to Icons.
[Yeah, if you want the Spear Icon. And the dragon’s breath will be much weaker in this form.]
“But easier to use, and the other techniques will be simple to control. Doesn’t the Eight-Man Empire train with the spear?” Maybe because Dross had brought up Jai Long, Lindon could easily imagine a fighting style formed around supplementing spearmanship with flexible dragons of lightning.
[If you give this work of art to Larian, I will haunt both her and you for the rest of your lives. Even more than I already haunt you, I mean.]
“If we consider who’s going to be using it…” Lindon looked up to Dross. “There’s one obvious choice.”
Dross heaved an exaggerated sigh and floated over another image.
This one was a huge weapon, as large as Lindon was tall. Though, considering the sheer size of the Weeping Dragon, they wouldn’t be short of physical materials.
It was a huge, two-handed hammer. The head was made of bone, one side carved to resemble the Weeping Dragon’s snarling face. The grip was covered by blue leather, and the entire thing trailed lightning.
Or so Dross imagined it. The final product’s design would differ, assuming they actually made it.
[His madra’s not the most compatible with it. It’ll be hard to Forge his scripts while using the binding at the same time. He’ll need the spiritual resistance of a Herald to use it. Isn’t it in bad taste to use a weapon that looks like the monster that destroyed your home?]
“He struck the final blow,” Lindon said. “He slayed the monster that destroyed his original sect, made its body into a weapon, and turned that weapon against its brothers. That doesn’t sound like bad taste, it sounds like the makings of a legend.”
Dross gave a short sigh of disappointment. [I don’t want it to be a hammer, all right? The dragon’s breath function is completely wasted. And every storm artist uses a hammer!]
“Not the ones we’ve seen.”
[Because they have taste.]
Lindon sent his spiritual sense back out through the entrance to the Soulforge. Fortunately for him, Ziel had woken already.
Yerin and Mercy were still unconscious. Yerin had to heal wounds on her own, and Mercy was once again in a state of wrestling mentally and spiritually more than physically. She would probably sleep the longest.
But they could settle this quickly.
Lindon left the Soulforge open and made his way to Ziel. To Lindon’s surprise, Ziel spoke eagerly the second the door opened.
“We got him, didn’t we?” Ziel demanded. “That’s his binding, I can feel it! …isn’t it?”
“You got him,” Lindon said.
Ziel took a deep, shuddering breath. He passed his hand through his hair, between his horns. Then he gave a broad smile and collapsed onto the couch.
“Got him. We got them both. It’s over.”
There was a slight hitch in Ziel’s voice, so Lindon took the opportunity. “You can feel it. That is the core binding of the Weeping Dragon. The sooner we make it into a weapon, the better. Since you—”
“No,” Ziel said immediately.
“You struck the killing blow. Not only do you deserve it, but you should be able to exert auth—”
“No.”
[Well, you heard him!] Dross said cheerily. [Guess we won’t be making a hammer! I have some lovely plans for a bell that you might want to see…]
Lindon tried again. “Pardon, but may I ask why you don’t want it?”
Ziel stared at the ceiling. “I’m not using that power. I won’t do it. I’m free of it now.”
With that, Lindon let it go. “All right. Would you object to a hammer made from the Wandering Titan?”