[Not to take credit, but that was entirely me.]
“And you have taken a drop of ghostwater as well,” she went on. “Between the two, it's no wonder that you have such an impressive mental foundation.”
That wasn't totally accurate, but Lindon took the way out that she'd offered. “I could never hide anything from a Sage. I was blessed to stumble on good fortune inside the Ghostwater facility.”
“Not just there,” Charity focused on Little Blue, who ducked shyly behind a lock of Lindon's hair. “It would seem that you have been blessed by the heavens on more than just one occasion.”
Lindon thought of the glass ball burning quietly in his pocket. “I humbly agree.”
“And yet you were beaten today.”
Lindon usually thought of the Sage as cold or impassive, but this time he detected the anger behind her mask. He chose his words very carefully, feeling his breath come more quickly.
“I am honored by your estimation of me. But, if you’ll allow me an observation, I am also lacking in basic knowledge and skills. Your Underlords are not. If Pride were my enemy, I might find some way to stop or defeat him, but within the confines of a judged duel, I’m afraid I am truly not his match.”
He had long been aware of his weaknesses. He had worked hard and learned much in the past two years, but in many areas, he still hadn't caught up to those sacred artists who’d received the best training their entire lives. He'd made it as far as he had through relentless determination, reliable companions, and leaning hard on his areas of strength.
As Charity remained quiet and studied him, her expression grew more and more distant, as though she were contemplating some abstract problem.
Sweat beaded on his skin. He had been honest with her, hoping she would respect his humility, but maybe he had misjudged her.
He pulled Little Blue down from his shoulder, cradling her in his hands to comfort her.
“You don’t know what we’re fighting for, do you?” Charity said at last.
“For the pride of the Akura clan, and I'm not certain that I am worthy to carry such a great burden.”
She slowly nodded, like she had come to some conclusion. “And you don't feel such pride, so you do not value it.”
Dross looked between them, his wide eye staring into Lindon from an inch away. Lindon began to sweat in earnest. “I do not dare to underestimate the pride and honor of a Monarch's family, which is why I feel that I may be unsuited for this task. If the reputation of the Akura clan affects the survival of nations, I don't—”
“It does,” she interrupted. “It affects your nation.”
Lindon stopped.
“The dragons have been pressing in on us for longer than you can imagine, but we have managed an unsteady balance. Now, with the uncertainty of the Dreadgods added in, all has been called into question. Every major house and family is pushing their boundaries to gain as much as they can.
“The Uncrowned King tournament is an exhibition of our future military power. If the Dragon King believes we are weak, he will take what he wants from us. If the other great families believe we are weak, they will not help us. There is no sense investing in a loser.”
She pressed her fingertips together, and though she was over a foot shorter than Lindon, it was as though she towered over him. “They want the Blackflame Empire.”
Dross gasped.
Lindon didn't want to believe her. He wanted to think she was lying to him in order to motivate him to fight. But she didn't need to lie, she could simply order him to do as she wished, and he would have no choice but to comply.
And it made sense. The Empire had once been ruled by dragons, and now the dragons wanted it back.
He followed her line of reasoning, but he still held out hope. “How far do we have to make it?”
“Farther than the gold dragons,” she answered. “But there is far more at stake in the tournament than this. If at least one of you does not reach the top eight and become one of the Uncrowned, preferably Mercy, then we may find ourselves in great danger.”
That brought him to one final question, the one that had loomed larger than any other ever since Charity had kidnapped him.
“Then why me?” he asked. “If it's so important, why bet on a stranger?”
Charity glanced down at Little Blue, who had scrambled down his body to hide behind his ankle. “I have many reasons. Let it be enough for you that I think you can win.” Purple eyes returned to his. “So will you stop this charade, or will you allow others to decide what happens to your home?”
[We don't know for certain that the gold dragons wouldn't rule better than the Akura clan,] Dross pointed out. [And there's no reason it has to be you . This Pride or one of the others will still fight even if you're not here.]
Lindon stood up straighter, looking down on the Sage. “I will fight.”
He had never been willing to leave the fate of his home in someone else's hands. He wasn't about to change his mind now.
[That's good, because I was lying before. The royal gold family of dragons is notoriously vicious and cruel, especially to humans. I just didn't want to worry you.]
Charity brushed her hands clean like a woman done with a mundane task. “Now, however, you have a problem. You have given the other Akura Underlords a reason to think you are weak. They taste blood, and they will not allow you to rest.”
Lindon thought back to the fight with Pride. The other Underlords had watched him with disdain...and jealousy. They would be coming for him.
He felt more pressure from that than he had before. Only minutes ago, he would have been satisfied with disqualification.
“Pardon, but I will need help addressing my weaknesses. I do not have the formal training in combat that your relatives do.”
Charity nodded. “If you are to fight under my family’s name in the tournament, this lack of knowledge must be remedied. You will be facing sacred artists of varied and unknown abilities. You must be able to determine their capabilities quickly and respond appropriately under any circumstances. This is not a training regimen that should be attempted in only nine months, and yet you must complete it.”
She addressed Dross. “If he hopes to meet the deadline, he will rely on your help.”
The purple spirit puffed himself out, closing his eye and folding his arms across his body. [Leave it to me! I’ll drag him through, no problem!] He opened his eye a crack and added, [...on second thought, actually, it sure would be easier with a little bit of your madra to help me. Just a taste?]
Charity stared at him, impassive as always.
[No? That's, ah, that's all right then.] He forced a chuckle. [I was joking! That's a little mind-spirit humor for you.]
There was a subtle flicker of power from the Sage, and she held up a silver-and-purple scale. Its madra drew Lindon's eyes to it almost hypnotically, and the room seemed to darken in its presence.
[Oh, you…you’re doing it! See, I told you she would help instead of wiping us from existence.]
She flipped it to him, and Dross swooped in to snap it up like a bat taking an insect. As soon as the madra entered him, he shuddered at the flood of energy.
“It's gentle and stable,” she said, “but it is still an Archlord's power. Be careful.”
Without a word of acknowledgement, Dross faded back into Lindon's spirit. He could feel Dross processing the scale: it felt tiny but unbelievably powerful, like a thunderstorm the size of a fingertip.
Lindon bowed. “Gratitude. Will he be all right?”
“A spirit of that density should be fine. It should absorb the scale's essence over a week or two, during which it will not be conscious or able to serve you. After that time, you should find its efficiency greatly increased.”