It reminded her of her early days training the Endless Sword. A cut here, a nick there, that added up to a thousand little scars.
Her brain must have been stuck for a moment, because Orthos nudged her with his snout before she realized it. The jaws of hunger madra had vanished, and he raised his head to meet her with kindness in his eyes. He was Orthos again.
“You know what I feel from him?” Orthos asked. “Strength. And trust.”
Even with the time warping turned down low, every grain of sand that fell from the hourglass was another threat to Lindon’s life. Yerin leaned her forehead against Orthos, feeling the warmth of his leathery skin.
“What if we don’t make it?” she asked quietly.
“He knows we will. I have not felt a moment of doubt from him. Not one.”
The rumble of his voice comforted her, and she tried to release the tension in her chest. After a second, she pulled back.
“Hang on. Thought I was the one here to quiet you down.”
Orthos’ chuckle released a mouthful of smoke. “How the wind turns. I will rest for the day. Remind me tomorrow when the time comes.” He bumped her with the edge of his shell. “And take that advice yourself.”
Yerin had one more stop to make for the day before she could sleep—or, more likely, before she could lie awake and worry for a few hours.
Mercy had set herself up in a corner of the island. With her hair tied back and her training clothes loose, she lounged in a hammock of her own creation, which she’d strung between two buildings. She looked up at the multi-colored clouds and sipped a drink through a straw.
Mercy was the picture of a clan’s young lady on holiday, but Yerin could sense the power of the elixir she was drinking. It was an Archlord-level brew they had recovered from the House Shen vaults, which Lindon had infused with a scale from Akura Malice.
Absorbing it gradually had helped Mercy adapt to the Book of Eternal Night, but she still grimaced with every sip. Elixirs weren’t necessarily designed for flavor, but they weren’t usually revolting. At least not the ones made by competent refiners.
Yerin suspected the energy reminded Mercy of her mother, which would explain the expression.
Little Blue was standing on Mercy’s stomach, waving her arms and chiming rapidly as she explained something to Mercy. Yerin only caught the impression of Lindon and something about pushing past a guard when Mercy burst out laughing.
“Oh, I can picture it! I can see his face!” She and Blue shared a laugh before Mercy turned and waved to Yerin. “Yerin! Come join us. You’re done training for the day, right?”
It contradicted the conversation she had just had with Orthos, but Yerin still felt somehow resentful of Mercy lying there so carefree when the situation was grave outside.
But she took a deep breath and reminded herself that this was the best way to get them out there the fastest. Mercy gave her a sympathetic look and waved a hand, Forging a swing of black strings dangling from the overhang of a nearby roof.
“Have a seat! It’s hard to rest when you’re worried, isn’t it?” Mercy asked. “I’m sure we can find an elixir to relax you. Actually, I might have some myself. Aunt Charity makes…” Her expression faltered when she mentioned her family, but she recovered quickly. “…makes some good ones.”
Yerin relaxed into the seat behind her. “Not looking to dull my edge.”
Though Mercy did have one point. If they were going to rest, they might as well use the time productively. Yerin opened her void key and called a box to her. It floated over on a cloud; she hadn’t Forged the cloud herself. This was just a fancy box.
With one thumb and an injection of her madra, she opened the lid. There was a shining ball within about the size of one of her knuckles. It shone like molten metal and swirled with scripted designs that resembled a pair of dragons intertwining with one another.
The Twin Dragon Rejuvenation Pill was half-refined and half-Forged, like the Heaven’s Drop that had helped her advance to the limit of Truegold, but this one was several thousand times more expensive. It was made to help Archlords regenerate and improve the quality of their madra, pushing them closer to the top. For peak Archlords, it also helped synchronize their spirit and their bodies, which would bring them closer to Herald.
It wasn’t so much of a leap for her, but she would benefit from both effects, and every step was something. Yerin popped it into her mouth—it tasted like a burning peach—and immediately began circulating its energies to the ends of her body.
Little Blue gave a curious whistle, and Yerin assumed she was asking about the pill. Until a second later, when the real meaning of the question penetrated her brain.
Mercy lit up. “Oh, that’s perfect! I didn’t want to be too nosy, but since Blue brought it up: how’s it going with you and Lindon?”
Yerin’s back stiffened in the flexible seat Mercy had created for her. Relationship gossip. This was something friends her age were supposed to talk about, but Yerin didn’t know how to do it.
Not that this was the first time. Mercy asked these questions about as often as the sun rose—or as often as the sun rose in the outside world, anyway.
Yerin still hadn’t grown comfortable with it. She knew how to talk about fighting, not…feelings.
“Not going at all, is it? He’s out fighting.”
“He hasn’t been gone that long,” Mercy said.
“Eleven days.” Lindon had turned the time difference down, but not so much this time. It was for the sake of training, but Yerin wished it hadn’t given her so much time to sit and stew.
Mercy’s eyes widened. “Really? Has it been…” She peered suspiciously into her elixir. “I need to spend more time in my own mind. Still, you’ve got to have something to talk about.”
“It’ll be all bright and shiny, once I don’t have to keep watching from the side.” Yerin sighed. “I’m creeping closer, but it still feels like a crawl.”
Mercy took another drink through her straw. “I know it’s hard waiting. I feel the same way, but I wish I had a Lindon.” She gave a sigh to match Yerin’s. “I’m jealous of you.”
Little Blue peered up into Mercy’s face.
Mercy must have heard how her words sounded because she choked on her elixir and threw it aside. She raised both black-clad hands and waved them as though to stop Yerin’s thoughts. “Wait! No! That…That’s not what I said. I wish I had a Lindon. Somebody like him in here, with me.”
Blue whistled a question.
“No, I didn’t say that!” Mercy protested. “That was my moth—Wait, how did you hear about that?”
Yerin wondered what expression she was making. Mercy saw her face and turned bright red, but she reached out to grab Yerin’s hands. “Stop! Listen. My mother put some weird thoughts into my head, but I’m only saying you have a good thing. I’m very happy for you. Both of you. And I’m sorry he’s not here.”
Yerin’s heart softened. She patted Mercy’s hands back. “Thanks.” And, before Mercy could also express surprise that Yerin had said ‘thank you,’ she pushed ahead. “Starting to occur to me that I ought to ask you about your own feelings sometimes. Seems like you might have some interesting answers.”
Mercy hunched down. “Oh, right. Is this how you feel when I put you on the spot? This feels bad!”
“Cuts both ways, doesn’t it?”
“You should still ask me, though! We don’t talk enough!”
Little Blue sang out to remind them that she was still there.
A few minutes later, Yerin returned to her room and settled in. She tried to steady her thoughts to rest. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but she had to take the advice she’d given Orthos.
She had only lain there for a matter of minutes when she heard the alarm.