She lashed her golden tail in irritation. A black dragon’s Remnant could fetch a pile of high-quality scales if you knew the right buyer, and she did. Its shell would have made a decent decoration, or the foundation for a seventh-grade refinery. That was at least a hundred medium-grade scales. And who knew what was left in that box the human was carrying?
He at least had that sapphire construct, which she suspected was connected to Ghostwater. If that were true, the Heralds would pay her in top-quality scales. Her tongue flickered out involuntarily.
She would have had them already, if not for Harmony.
Ekeri glanced back at the young Akura on the boulder. It singed her pride that she had to restrict her techniques to avoid disturbing a human, but pride was nothing before the reality of strength. She had to admit, she’d never personally seen a Truegold sacred artist with as much skill as this Akura elite. She’d known Underlord-level dragons who didn’t put as much pressure on her spirit.
She almost drooled at the thought of what riches he must be carrying on him. He’d have a void key on him somewhere, which might even contain treasures from Akura Malice herself. Her master would be pleased with her if she could turn over something that embarrassed the Akura clan. He may even bestow his smile upon her in person.
Ekeri brought herself back to reality. She’d gotten lost in daydreams again, which was a long-time habit of hers.
Drawing one claw down the wall of dark water, she snapped her tail. Immediately, her two attendants—in their plain white robes—appeared behind her. They were only Lowgold, but their Path was designed specifically to serve leaders like her.
“Contact the Herald,” she ordered. “Describe to her the situation, and tell her that the others won’t be arriving. The portal has been destroyed. I request permission to begin immediately.”
The two attendants bowed, but before they could do anything, Ekeri’s world softened to white.
“Ekerinatoth of the gold bloodline,” a smooth, overwhelming voice echoed in her very soul.
This was not the voice of a Herald.
She fell to her knees in awe, tears hot on her face to hear her name spoken in this voice. “I see you,” he said. “I am with you. You may begin.”
Ekeri took the time for one last bow, wriggling in the sand to show her deference, and then shot off into the water.
She did not dare to delay the orders of the Monarch of Dragons even a second longer.
Akura Harmony breathed darkness.
This habitat was bright, but endless night pressed in from all directions outside. With concentration, he could filter shadow aura from the water outside and draw it into himself, purifying and refining the shadow in his core.
He was at the peak of Truegold, only a small step from Underlord. His soulspace was filled, and a spark of soulfire waited at the heart of his soul. This sort of ordinary cycling would do very little for him until he broke through to the Lord realm.
But Harmony was not a man who skipped steps. If he had to wait, he would cycle. When he had a moment free, he would train. When he finished training, he would train some more.
There were others of his relatives that were closer to becoming Akura Malice’s heir than he was, but they were generations older than Harmony. And they might decide to ascend, to wherever it was that Sages and Heralds went instead of staying and becoming Monarchs.
Harmony intended to face that choice himself one day. And to get there, he couldn’t waste a single breath.
These others had disrupted him with their noise, so he had struck out at them. That was as far as he allowed them to occupy his attention. He hadn’t even bothered to reach out his spiritual perception and scan them; it would be too much of a distraction from his cycling.
His grand-aunt’s voice echoed inside him, though it sounded younger than his own.
“Begin,” the Sage of the Silver Heart ordered him.
Without a second’s hesitation, Harmony opened his eyes and stood, marching into the darkness. Even Ziel of the Wasteland had departed already, so he was the last to leave. That did not bother him.
Only the Akura family knew about the true prize at the heart of Ghostwater. While he feasted, the others would fight over scraps.
He had no rivals here.
Eithan kept his smile on for the Imperial clerk, trying not to show the woman his irritation.
“I don’t want to inconvenience His Imperial Majesty, of course,” he said. “That’s why I’m doing it this way. He requested that I not show up in his chambers anymore without an audience, so I’m requesting an audience.”
The clerk sniffed. A Truegold woman of seventy, she reminded him of a taller Fisher Gesha; her gray hair was pulled up into a bun, and she looked like she was strict on her grandchildren.
She sat behind a desk in the Imperial palace in Blackflame City, inside an unassuming office that would have looked more at home in one of the Arelius family’s administrative centers. As an Underlord, he was allowed into the palace uninvited, but he was still supposed to request an audience with the Emperor.
He had expected this part of the process to be simple.
“During this time of emergency, all Underlords are expected to contribute to the defense of the Empire. The Emperor will not see any Underlords unless they have information contributing to the emergency effort, or unless they represent the interests of a major family or clan.” She looked him up and down. “You are no longer the Patriarch of the Arelius family, so you do not have the standing to make such a request.”
Eithan had known this would cause him no end of trouble. Cassias and his father had taken the title of Patriarch away from him in order to bring him to heel. When the threat of Redmoon Hall was behind them, he would have to make his irritation abundantly clear.
He calmed himself, focusing on the cycle of his madra. “Ah, I see the confusion. I have information that is vital to the fight against Redmoon Hall. But it is very sensitive. I’m afraid I can only speak to the Emperor himself.”
She narrowed her eyes. “She said you’d say that.”
He could have asked who she meant, but he had a good guess. Eithan turned, calling out to the hallway. “By she, I’m guessing she means you.”
There was a moment of hesitation as Naru Saeya struggled with herself in the hall. After a few seconds, she straightened her spine and walked straight up to the door.
The Emperor’s younger sister was a famous beauty, and she bristled with barely contained energy. Her wings were folded behind her back, and she wore a fan of peacock feathers over one ear.
Saeya marched up to Eithan without another moment of hesitation. “If you really have information, you can give it to me. I’ll take it to His Imperial Majesty.”
He gave her a deep bow, complete with a flourish of his outer robe. “Your generosity moves my spirit, but I’m afraid I can speak only to your brother.”
She pushed the heel of her hand against her forehead as though struggling with a headache. “I’ve been in the city for no more than a day, and I’m back out to the battlefield tomorrow. While I’ve been here, I’ve dealt with emergency requests from every sect, school, and family in the Empire. My patience is long dead. If you don’t want me to kick you from here to the Trackless Sea, then tell me what you want.”
“I want a spot in the Skysworn,” he said immediately. “I have two promising students that I believe can become Underlords for our Empire, and I’m hoping to scoop up a third. They’re gaining some experience as part of the Skysworn, but I have to be there to guide them personally.”