He stopped in the shadow of the largest chunk of wall still standing, gazing through an empty window down a row of shattered homes. He tried to use that image, to let it remind him of the consequences of his own bad decisions, but it was too late. That wound was too old and too deep. Nothing he could do today would bring feeling back to that scar.
The people who had died here had belonged to House Arelius. Once, losing family had evoked great passion in him.
Time had dulled that edge. So had knowledge. He didn’t need vengeance, he needed the power to change a system that had broken long before he was born.
Though he was oddly pleased to feel an ember of fury stoke to life as he saw the man approaching him from behind.
Reigan Shen’s steps crunched in ash that he had made himself. “Eithan Arelius. I expected to find you in Tiberian’s palace.”
He prowled with great confidence, his white-gold mane glossy, and in Eithan’s opinion he would not look out of place with a tufted tail swinging behind him.
The Monarch was thoroughly veiled. Here in secret, then. As expected.
Eithan turned and gave him a blinding smile. “What’s left of it, you mean? You expected to see me weeping in the ruined foundation?”
“So you haven’t returned. I left it mostly intact, out of respect.”
Returned.
“Ah, you remember me.” Eithan swept a bow. “I’m honored.”
The Lion Emperor nodded. “It is not often that understanding so exceeds age and advancement. If Tiberian had used you more carefully, perhaps it is I who would have fallen.”
“Tiberian trusted you to act in your own self-interest,” Eithan said. He was pleased that he still sounded unfazed, though he was growing closer and closer to angry every moment. “As, I admit, did I.”
“None of you understand my interests, which always surprises me. I feel I have been very consistent.”
“You could have ascended like a king. Who is Kiuran of the Hounds? You know as well as I do those like him would have licked your boots the moment you ascended with a Dreadgod weapon in your hands. You would have dwarfed Northstrider’s most ambitious dream.”
Reigan Shen laced his fingers together, and his jeweled rings flashed in the dying sunlight. “My desires have only ever extended to this world, not beyond it.”
That was almost enough to start Eithan shouting, but Shen continued in a melancholy tone.
“I have heard your arguments from Tiberian’s mouth. Perhaps my people would be safer and happier if we had destroyed the Dreadgods. But they are safe, and they are happy, and I am here to guide them. And the heavens have offered me the means to achieve our goal, your goal, without abandoning my people.”
Eithan focused on his cycling madra, controlling his emotions. Equilibrium returned soon enough, and his smile was more genuine. “We both know that won’t work. If you don’t ascend, it will be for nothing.”
“It will buy us time to put new systems in place. You are not the only one who understands the nature of things, Arelius.”
Shen’s words sunk Eithan’s spirits. It will buy us time. That was all they ever wanted. Stall tactics. No real solutions.
Yes, millions of people will die, but still an acceptable number. It’s not as if we’re doing nothing. Perhaps we could reduce that number to zero, but it’s too much risk. Too much personal sacrifice.
How could anyone justify leaving the Dreadgods alive, even to themselves? Just because he would have to leave this world behind.
“I do,” Eithan said heavily. “I understand. But it seems that soon, I will be in the position to decide.” His smile returned. “So why has the lone Monarch of the Rosegold continent deigned to visit me today?”
Reigan Shen gave a wry smile. “I have come to buy you out of the tournament.”
“That’s impressive, considering that the grand prize is priceless.”
“Do you know how many priceless things I own? Penance is not in your hands yet, and even as an Overlord, you are not guaranteed to defeat Shoumei or Sophara. You can return to Blackflame City with all your wishes granted.”
Eithan gestured to the ash and ruin all around them. “This is not the most conducive environment to a negotiation.”
Reigan Shen waved a hand and the ruins of the shattered house were erased. They simply vanished with no more than a slight puff of wind to mark their passing. Another flick of his fingers, and the Monarch opened a swirling portal.
The space was protected, so Eithan could see only a swirl of color before a golden disc emerged. He had to take a few steps back to give it room; the disc was as large as a barn floor, though only as thick as two hands.
It came to a stop, hovering at waist height. The golden disc was a platform supporting a table and two contoured chairs. Eithan hopped up, as did Reigan Shen, and Eithan noticed the difference immediately as he crossed the scripted barrier.
Inside, the air was cool and sweet rather than choked with ash. Though there were no walls and he could look uninterrupted at the ruined city around him, they were far more comfortable. A ceiling hovered above them, blocking some falling ash, though the script would have done that just as well.
They took their seats, and Eithan plucked a flower from a decorative vase at the center of the table. “Before we begin, I would like a void key to contain the cloudship you gave me. It’s inconvenient not being able to carry it around.”
“Of course. An oversight on my part.”
Eithan doubted that. The ship Reigan Shen had gifted him was stored in one of the Ninecloud City’s hangars, but Eithan had been unable to remove it until after the tournament because of city air travel regulations. He was certain that had been part of the plan for his “prize.”
Shen casually tossed him an ornately carved and scripted golden ring, which Eithan tucked away.
That set the tone for the negotiation. Shen was willing to throw in a top-grade void key, which many Sages couldn’t afford, as an afterthought. Then again, he was perhaps the only one in the world who could treat spatial storage so lightly.
“This need not be a long process,” the Monarch said. “Tell me what you want so that I may give it to you.”
Eithan stopped himself short of saying “Your head on a platter.” Not only would it set the wrong tone, it wasn’t what he wanted.
If Reigan Shen didn’t die to a new generation of Monarchs raised by Eithan, that would be the real tragedy.
“Financial support and protection for House Arelius.”
“A wise choice. My grudge was never against House Arelius. They are now under my protection, free to operate independent of my rule, and I will honor their borders. I will give them support equal to any of my vassal states, including a restoration package of a billion scales, and Yushi will be at the service of your Sage for one year beginning tonight.”
Yushi was a Herald on a lightning Path, and one of Reigan Shen’s closest companions. She was colloquially known as the Thunder Fairy, a name she hated. There were children’s rhymes about her.
Eithan had written one himself.
That was generous support for House Arelius—more generous than Eithan had expected. Shen had come prepared, and he had obviously anticipated Eithan’s first demand.
Shen leaned on his hand, elbow on the table. “Now, surely you want something for yourself as well.”
“Certainly I do, but first I have another request on behalf of my House. Your fairy is wonderful, but the condition of my homeland is as you see it. We require the attention of the Rootfather.”
“I do not command the dragons.”