Lindon stretched out his spiritual perception, reaching not further, but deeper. The Path of Black Flame burned away the physical form, and Twin Stars now wiped away the spirit. Those had clear similarities: he could see them as direct opposites, one destroying the body and the other the spirit.
Pure madra even had parallels to water madra, which he’d known since he was a little boy begging a bowl of madra to freeze. Seven Principles called it the Principle of Fluidity, but he found it made a nice balancing contrast to Blackflame.
Which would have been perfect, if those were his only two sources of madra.
But his hunger arm was in the mix too, a ravenous presence at the end of his elbow. Northstrider had even emphasized discovering the common ground between his three madra types.
Maybe Blackflame devoured the material, pure madra devoured the spiritual, and hunger madra devoured everything?
That sounded like it could work, but Lindon found himself pushing for some confirmation. He sensed no trembling in the aura around him, as he had when he’d discovered his Underlord revelation, but he did feel something.
There was a deeper principle, a concept tickling his mind like a whisper just out of hearing.
He concentrated harder on his spiritual sense, pushing harder, trying to break through a barrier he didn’t understand. He strained to focus on all three types of his madra at once, drilling down, forcing a connection…
A crackling noise and a bright light filled the dusty clearing.
Lindon rolled to his feet, Blackflame running through him and dragon’s breath kindling in his left hand. He hadn’t felt anyone nearby, but he’d left himself open for an ambush by focusing his perception inward.
Stupid, he berated himself. He had wanted to chase down a moment of inspiration as soon as possible, but he should have at least gone back to shelter.
Yerin stumbled out of the light.
She felt exactly like Yerin did when she had her Blood Shadow out, a mix of sword and blood madra, but her hair and her six extended sword-arms were all bright red. His eyes and perception clashed for a long moment, as he tried to reconcile the strange details with the sense of familiarity.
When she saw him, red eyes widened.
“Lindon!” she shouted. He managed to stand up and cancel his dragon’s breath as she flew into him, wrapping arms and legs around him. “I missed you!”
Dross cleared his throat. [Ah, Lindon, I don’t want to bear bad news, but this isn’t—]
I know.
A sick feeling started to grow in his gut. “Apologies, you’re…”
She looked up at him with Yerin’s face and spoke in a satisfied tone. “Ruby!”
The sickness grew.
This was what Yerin might look like if she’d been taken over.
He tried to stay calm—he didn’t know anything yet—but Blackflame was still in him. His eyes heated up as they turned black, and what he had planned as a cautious question came out as a demand. “What did you do to Yerin?”
Her bright expression died. She pulled away from him, taking several steps back and holding her Goldsigns at the ready as though she thought she might have to defend herself. “Not one thing. Bet my soul against a dead leaf that you haven’t heard the report from today’s tournament.”
“I wasn’t expecting a report until at least this afternoon.” It was early in the morning, and not only was there a gap in time between Sky’s Edge and Ninecloud City, but it took time for news to travel.
Now anxious uncertainty joined his sick premonition. What had happened to Yerin? She was supposed to fight Yan Shoumei; had the Blood Sage done something to her?
“We won,” Ruby said flatly. “Yerin stayed back to train. You’ll see what’s true when you get the news.”
[That’s not Yerin’s body,] Dross confirmed. [Well, I mean, it is. It’s an exact copy. But if she had taken Yerin, she’d be a lot more solid.]
That was a relief, but to the naked eye, it was hard to see how her human form could possibly be more complete.
She stood with her arms crossed and Goldsigns at the ready, not meeting his eyes. It looked like she was shivering.
In spite of himself, he felt bad for her.
And unbelievably curious.
Cautiously, he asked, “You’re really just her Blood Shadow?”
“Ruby,” she muttered.
“That’s…incredible!” He swept his perception over her in awe. “You have a madra system! I never imagined that a spirit could be this complete before Herald. And your voice…you sound just like Yerin!”
The Shadow’s Goldsigns eased up a little, and she slipped a step closer. “We can talk now.”
“Yes, we can!”
It was crashing over him what kind of an opportunity this was. Not only was this the chance to study a fully manifested spirit in preparation for eventually advancing to Herald, but he could ask her about her unique perspective as a spiritual parasite, about her memories, about the Bleeding Phoenix. Even about Yerin.
“I have so many questions, it’s hard to narrow them down.”
But it wasn’t. After only a moment of thought, he realized that Ruby could help him with his current project.
As much as he thought of her as being made entirely from blood madra, blood wasn’t her only aspect. The Bleeding Phoenix was a Dreadgod, and like any dreadbeast, its madra had a hunger component.
The Blood Shadow’s original purpose was to drain power and bring it back to the Phoenix. At its core, it was a hunger spirit.
He dipped his head to her. “Pardon, Ruby, but I’m trying to determine the…meaning…behind hunger madra, if that makes sense. The deeper aspects. The intention. Thus far, all I can determine is that it’s hungry, but there should be more to it.”
She nodded eagerly, moving still closer as she did so. “It’s like a hungry stomach, isn’t it? Always greedy for more. Can’t be filled up, or it isn’t hunger anymore.”
He lost himself in thought.
That did fill in some of the connection he’d sensed. Blackflame was a ravenous fire that left nothing behind, and his pure madra now emptied foreign madra. Maybe you could see it as emptiness waiting to be filled.
But how did he actually connect the three?
“You’re asking me, but there’s somebody bigger you could ask.”
He shook himself out of his trance to realize that Ruby was standing right up against him, looking up. Her chin touched his chest.
He took a polite step back. “Who?”
“The Titan. I feel him napping the day away over there.” She slid after him, this time grabbing fistfuls of both his sleeves.
How do I ask the Titan anything? he thought.
[There’s a clear answer, but I’m afraid to give it to you.]
As soon as the question occurred to him, an answer suggested itself, but it was stupid and maybe suicidal.
[And that’s why I didn’t want you to have it.]
He would have to think it through. He needed more information, not to mention permission.
Though there was a more immediate issue to deal with first.
“Pardon, Ruby, but you’re…very close.”
“True.” She nodded. “Most times, I don’t get to see or feel anything myself. Just bits and pieces from Yerin, while I sit there in the dark.”
She gave him one of the broadest smiles he’d ever seen on Yerin’s face. “I’m not stuck in the dark anymore.”
Fury yawned. “Busy? I’ve never been more bored in my life. What’s up?”
Lindon had needed no help finding the Herald. Everyone in the camp knew he was napping on the roof of the highest point in the fortress, but everyone who came up here with work was tossed back down. The Archlords complained about it day and night.
Considering the Dreadgod sleeping on the other end of the city and the cults floating in their headquarters overhead, Lindon would have expected Fury to be on his guard every hour.