Lindon rested a hand on the turtle’s head. Though Orthos would never acknowledge it, Lindon knew he found it comforting. “She must be impressive, to get a dragon to back down.”
“Even dragons,” Orthos said, “know when to bow.”
Eithan stared up at the fortress of death and wondered how he had gotten in so far over his head.
The heart of Akura clan territory was clearly designed to intimidate anyone who laid eyes on it. The wall—which rose high over his head and stretched for miles beyond sight—was made of absolutely black Forged madra and topped with man-sized sword blades. He was fairly certain that the material of the walls had at least some aspect of death-madra to it, from the icy cold dread that pressed against his senses and the cold howls that he heard from deep within.
And that was just the outer wall. The Emperor had a gatekey that had transported Eithan over ten thousand miles straight to the entrance, but even such a key couldn't get him in the door. The Akura family Matriarch must have created the gatekey herself, or one of her close disciples, because no one in the Blackflame Empire had such control of space.
The guards were even more intimidating than the wall they guarded. The two Remnants were the dark green of murky swamp-water, and they looked like dried lizard-corpses. Only they were fifteen feet tall, and each of them carried a halberd that blazed with black-and-violet flame. A different breed of dragon's fire than Blackflame, but just as deadly.
They each rested on piles of bleached human bones that were undoubtedly there for effect.
...not that they were a deception. They had just chosen to leave the bones of those the guards killed as a declaration to future visitors.
Remnants they may have been, but they looked down on Eithan with cold intelligence. They had been left by Lords on the same Path and slowly cultivated by the Akura clan until they could match Heralds for power. The signs were there, if you knew what to look for.
It was enough to make Eithan painfully aware of his status as an Underlord. Or rather, his lack of status. If the guards were to blast him to vapor, word would never reach the Blackflame Empire. Even if it did, the Emperor would be the one to apologize.
Even in mortal danger, Eithan had never been one to give in to intimidation. He smiled brightly, pulling the gatekey from his pocket and holding it forth. It was made of purple-tinted black crystal, and it pulsed like a heart in his hand.
"I represent Naru Huan, Emperor of the Blackflame Empire," he declared. "I seek an audience with the highest-ranking member of the Akura clan available to me."
He certainly couldn't request a meeting with their clan leader directly. Disrespecting a Monarch by implying that he was worthy of her time would kill him on the spot, and might even spread to the rest of the Arelius family.
The Remnants inspected him with unreadable reptilian gazes. Even his bloodline powers were of no use to him here, as the spirits gave no physical clues for what they were feeling.
However intelligent and advanced they were, they were still Remnants. They would act according to their nature unless given reason to do otherwise, and these had clearly been given guard duty. One sent out a spiritual pulse—the heft of which felt like it would push Eithan to the ground—in an obvious signal.
Eithan waited. Somewhere behind the wall, the fortress itself spewed fire into the air.
He hoped they wouldn't ask him to go inside. It would severely derail his plans if he was captured in an Akura holding cell for a hundred years.
Finally, a center section of the wall dissolved into a black puddle. An old man with a long, wispy beard and purple eyes strode out of the gap, hands crossed in front of him. Those hands looked as though they'd been dipped in tar up to the elbow: the Goldsign from the Path of the Chainkeeper. He would be a blood descendant, then, as though the purple eyes weren't enough of a clue.
He walked out with stately dignity, but he did not carry himself with arrogance. His black-and-white robes were simple, and he met Eithan's eyes with a placid gaze. Eithan liked him already; a different member of the Akura clan might have made him bow and scrape for an hour before deigning to hear a word.
Eithan did not scan him directly, as that would have been an appalling breach of manners, but he did gingerly reach out his spiritual perception to get a sense of the man's advancement. As he suspected, he couldn't tell. The man might as well not have been a sacred artist at all.
That meant he was at least an Underlord skilled in veils. Most likely, he was far above that stage.
Eithan bowed deeply, pressing his fists together. "As an unworthy servant of the Blackflame Empire, I greet the representative of the honored Akura clan."
The old man dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I am Akura Justice. The clan welcomes you, Eithan Arelius."
Eithan was not at all surprised that the Akura clan knew his name, but he was somewhat surprised that Justice had chosen to use it. "I am honored that you have taken such notice of me," he said, without straightening from his bow.
"Our Matriarch, eternal and all-knowing, employs the greatest dream artists in the world," Justice said calmly. "They have seen you. It seems there has been a great shift in fate recently. The currents of destiny change rapidly these days, and the dream-readers have seen you in their flowing currents."
Eithan began to sweat. Though their talents all varied, the legendary Monarchs could see far. Depending on what they decided about his destiny, he could be killed here. Or worse.
"She has left words for you," Justice said, and his voice was awed. He must have been a descendant of his clan's Matriarch, so he was talking about his own mother, grandmother, or great-grandmother, but his tone suggested he was referring to a divinity made flesh. "In other circumstances, we would have a feast for anyone so honored, but time runs short."
Eithan fell to his knees, pressing his head to the ground three times in the direction of the fortress. He resisted the urge to grimace while facing downward—Justice might not have been able to see it, but a Monarch would. If she were watching.
Better to play it safe.
"I am not worthy," Eithan said. And then, far more sincerely, "I will engrave the Monarch's words onto my heart."
That, at least, was true. Whatever she had gleaned from the future, it would be invaluable to him.
"The following words are not mine, but the Monarch's." Justice drew himself up, words rising in a proclamation. "Once, and once alone, will I defend your empire from the fiend that rises against it. Soon, I will have greater concerns…so you must raise protectors of your own. They will defend us all from the great calamity that follows. I await your success, Underlord."
"She left those words for me?" Eithan asked, raising his head.
"For you, by name. She has seen your plans, and knows that you have a chance of success."
Eithan tried not to shiver. A Monarch's help could make everything infinitely easier...but no one at that stage was selfless. She might take over, and there would be nothing Eithan could do to stop her.
However, any information about his fate was invaluable. "I cannot express my gratitude in words. If the time does come where I may defend the Akura clan's territory, I will do so." He was careful not to admit debt. His soul might hold him to such words, especially when he was dealing with a Monarch.
Justice nodded, gesturing for Eithan to rise. He did so, trying to ignore the mudstains on his outer robe.
"I do not wish to overstep my station," Eithan said, turning up the charm in his smile. "But are there any instructions I should pass to my Emperor?"
Justice ran a black-gloved hand down his beard. "We have made our will known to your Empire regarding our fallen daughter, and they have interpreted our instructions in an acceptable manner. It is important only that the daughter is pushed to the brink. Whether she learns to fly or falls to her death, the imperial clan will be rewarded."