Usually, when he saw that sight, he wondered if he had stayed here for too long.
Large organizations were weights tying a sacred artist’s hands and feet. Obviously there were some projects that required cooperation, but such relationships should be taken only for a limited duration. But the longer he stayed here, the more hangers-on would pile up.
Those were the thoughts that usually plagued him, the questions that haunted him. This time, he was grateful for the assistance.
Two Archladies and an Archlord knelt before him. One of the Ladies was human, and she wore a scripted necklace and wristbands that adapted her to this place. No Archlord-level sacred artist could be killed by the pressure here, but speaking and moving quickly would take soulfire, so she used scripted shortcuts.
The other two were fish-people, sacred beasts who had taken on humanoid form but hadn’t given up their animalistic traits entirely. Their gray-blue skin and gills were hallmarks of their kind, but Northstrider didn’t have the bias against sacred beasts that many among the Akura clan did.
“What did you find?” he asked them.
The first opened her void key. “Our apologies, Monarch. Herald sacred beasts are scarce since the fall of the Dragon King.” From the key’s portal, a frightened serpent darted out, trying to escape.
Northstrider seized it in one hand. It was an Archlord-level dreadbeast, and thus disgusting to the eye, but it was close enough to a dragon for his needs. He Consumed it completely.
Its energy filled him, and he vented excess madra into the darkness behind him. Light of many colors lit up the dark, and a small piece of what Lindon had taken from him was restored.
Northstrider turned to the Archlord. He hadn’t come with prey, but with an elixir made for Heralds. The Monarch favored him with a nod before turning to the human Archlady.
She shifted and looked at the ground. “I found a Herald-level Remnant, but I was driven off.”
Northstrider had given them weapons to prevent that, so he was displeased, but not surprised. “Where?”
“Eastern Ashwind, in what used to be Xorrus’ territory.”
Northstrider wondered whether the potential return was worth the risk. The further he stayed from Lindon, the better. At least until he regained his strength.
“I will go,” Northstrider said. “You will all be repaid.” He turned to lower himself back into the Sunken Tower.
To his surprise, the human Archlady spoke again. “I did feel the attention of the Empty Ghost on me, but it did not act.”
Northstrider stopped. “Were you contacted? Did you hear any messages in your thoughts?” His scan of her spirit revealed nothing strange.
“No, Monarch. I was only concerned for you.”
Ugly anger took over Northstrider’s heart for a moment.
She was talking about a boy who had grown fat on bounty he’d stolen from Northstrider. Just by suggesting Lindon could be a threat, she was insulting him.
But Northstrider was hundreds of years old. He took control of himself immediately. She did not intend the disrespect, and what was more, she was right. Lindon was a threat. She had said nothing inaccurate.
“I have plans to deal with him,” Northstrider said.
Then his spirit shouted a warning.
At the same time, the lights around his fortress turned red. An alarm split the deep, and sacred artists came boiling out of the surrounding buildings. The three Archlords were instantly battle-ready.
Intruder alert, his oracle codex informed him. The Empty Ghost.
Northstrider knew that already.
“Hold,” Northstrider instructed. “I will deal with him.”
This was his fortress. The current seat of his power. Here, his authority could not be surpassed.
Northstrider willed himself back inside.
He reappeared in a simple gray room on the thirtieth floor. It branched off into five hallways, one of which led to Emriss Silentborn’s prison.
The room was empty except for a swirling, white-edged portal. Lindon stood on the other side, arms clasped behind his back.
Northstrider felt dark amusement take him. He had calculated this possibility. In fact, he had expected Lindon would reach a tipping point of metaphysical mass before Consuming the Weeping Dragon, but obviously there was a margin of error.
“There are easier ways to get my attention, Ghost,” Northstrider said.
“Apologies, I must have lost my way,” Lindon replied easily. “I was looking for Emriss Silentborn.”
“Perhaps I have her imprisoned here.” Northstrider stood back and beckoned down the hallway with one black-scaled hand. “I invite you to come check for yourself.”
Lindon couldn’t cross the portal, and they both knew it.
“I’d rather send one of my friends to check for me, if you don’t mind.”
“The invitation extends to you alone.”
Northstrider’s oracle codex spat out possibilities, and his mind worked just as quickly. What could Lindon do here? He knew he couldn’t transport himself here, so why had he opened the portal in the first place?
The codex proposed a possibility, and Northstrider agreed with it. Lindon already had one Dreadgod weapon. It was entirely possible he had another.
Using such a weapon through a portal was a tricky possibility. If the output was too great, the portal itself would break.
There was only one question Northstrider had. Why had Lindon waited? Why not use the weapon immediately?
He focused his will, prepared to break the portal the instant Lindon pulled a weapon, but Lindon didn’t seem inclined to do it.
“I wanted to talk with you,” Lindon explained. “I have questions.”
Northstrider remained silent, using his codex to predict whether this could be a trick. What would Lindon gain by playing for time?
There was no substantial reason Northstrider could think of. The Dreadgods were rampaging at that very moment.
After a second of silence, Lindon spoke again. “I’ll go on, then. I had great respect for you. I want to know why you never ascended.”
“I told you already, and I dislike repeating myself.”
Lindon glanced around the empty room. “As I understand it, you did not want to bow to anyone. You are the fish who doesn’t leave its pond because it fears the ocean.”
Northstrider’s ugly anger returned. “Watch your tone, boy.”
“You’re not even the biggest fish in this pond. What is there to cling to? If you really wanted to learn these secrets and techniques, you could have ascended.”
“Enough.”
“Even with all your research and your centuries of training, you lost to me.”
“Enough,” Northstrider repeated, but this time he imbued the command with the full weight of his authority. With disdain and fury, he crushed the portal.
The portal, however, refused to be crushed.
Lindon held out his hand, pitting his will against Northstrider’s. “I suspect there has been a misunderstanding. Dross tells me you’re calculating what I get out of this interaction. What angle am I playing? You’re looking at it the wrong way.”
Northstrider’s rage burst free of his constraints, and he snarled in response, “You’re nothing but a dog with sharpened teeth. You’re alive because you were a Judge’s pet.”
“This was not for my sake,” Lindon continued, “but yours.”
“A speck of dust could challenge the Dreadgods if a Judge decided to grant it power. You’re not special. You’re a sideshow for them.”
“Release Emriss and ascend. For my past respect, I’m giving you a chance.”
“How dare you look down on me? I earned what I have.”
Lindon’s black-and-white eyes carried the coldness of the void. “Very well. I’ll see you soon.”
Without Lindon’s will to support it, the portal winked out.
How quickly can he arrive here? Northstrider asked.