The world around Mercy was dark with shadow aura, but she had a greater understanding of the shadow aspect than ever before. Within the darkness, she could see the outlines of her friends. Standing outside the circle of spinning silver runes, waiting for her.
Mercy took a moment to stand and adjust her condition before she strode out of the script.
A sweating Ziel gasped as he felt her leave, immediately cutting off the Grand Oath Array. He staggered out of the cycling room and collapsed, leaning against the outside of the cave. “I don’t…know how…you did that…” he managed to say.
[I don’t know how Ziel did it either,] Dross put in. [The Grand Oath Array is not in good shape.]
“How long was I in there?” Mercy asked softly.
[This last time was six months. Without me, you wouldn’t have made it. If you weren’t an Archlady, you wouldn’t have made it.] Dross considered. [Actually, I didn’t think you were going to make it at all.]
That was her third session inside the Grand Oath Array. Each longer than the last.
Mercy nodded along as Orthos and Little Blue looked to her in concern. For them, it had only been hours.
She knew what Malice would do in this scenario. At this point, acting like her mother was second nature. Dross’ model of Malice was more accurate than ever, though of course it was based on Malice as she had been when she’d created the Book of Eternal Night.
Malice would nod to each of those who supported her and act like what she’d done was nothing. Of course she had exceeded expectations. She was Akura Malice.
Mercy considered how she felt.
Then she threw herself into Orthos’ arms and started bawling. “That was terrible! I missed you all so much!”
Orthos shifted uncomfortably, but he still patted her once. Then a second time.
Touched by the effort, Mercy cried harder.
With one hand, she grabbed Little Blue and pulled her closer. The spirit was crying harder than Mercy herself was.
Out of the corner of blurry eyes, Mercy saw Ziel shuffle slowly away.
When the moment passed, Mercy sniffled and wiped away tears. “All—” She sniffed again. “All right. I guess it’s time to advance, huh?”
The instant she stopped crying, Orthos released her and took a step back. “Yes. Your spirit is strong. You are in perfect condition to advance to Herald.”
“Mmm!” Blue said. She nodded encouragement.
Mercy sighed. “With your help, I am as prepared as I can be. We’ll need to do it in the sparring room.”
It wasn’t far away, and she continued talking as they walked. “Ziel, would you reinforce the room again?”
He peered at the scripts as they entered. “We made this to handle Yerin.”
That thought drew Mercy’s spiritual perception to Yerin, who had already been in Ghostwind Hall before any of them. She had activated the eighth Path of Heaven, and was even now meditating in front of it, trying to squeeze out some last-minute insights.
Although it didn’t feel like Yerin was in front of the Path. It felt like she was right on top of it. Inside it. Swallowed up by a cavern of death.
Mercy wrenched her thoughts away from Yerin and back onto her own struggles. Yerin could handle herself.
“Strengthen the scripts once more, please,” Mercy said. “And when the time comes, I would appreciate any protective workings you could give me.”
[The strength of the Dragon Icon would help too,] Dross suggested to Orthos.
Orthos’ wrinkles deepened as he frowned. “Is it such a risk?”
[We saw the memory of Malice’s advancement to Herald. Well, Monarch, since she started as a Sage. Her fight with her Remnant…Oh, I could show you!]
“Don’t,” Mercy said. “Thousands died.”
Orthos folded his arms. “I have seen death.”
“My mother lost control. Her Remnant began torturing and killing innocent people just to hurt her.”
“Oh.” Orthos reached down for a pile of rocks that had been left strategically in the corner of the room and popped one into his mouth, chewing loudly.
Little Blue shuddered.
Shining green symbols wrapped the room, and Ziel glanced back at her. “That was her Remnant. You think yours will be the same?”
“Her power is mine now,” Mercy said softly.
Judiciously, Ziel added another ring of script.
There wasn’t much else to do. Once her spirit was prepared and at the peak of Archlord, Mercy sat in the center of yet another script-circle, this one etched on metal plates and much smaller. Only enough for her and the Remnant.
When it fought her, it would break through, but this should at least slow it down.
[I have a model for its fighting patterns, based on your mother’s Remnant,] Dross said. [And at least you have reliable backup!]
Mercy smiled over the other four as they gave her encouraging looks. Ziel’s looked the same as ever, but the rest were clearly trying to empower her with their gaze.
“Be safe,” Ziel commanded.
“Be strong,” Orthos ordered.
The strength of the Dragon Icon and the hardiness of the Shield Icon covered Mercy, flowing through her. External help was only of limited use in this process—she either established authority over her Remnant and succeeded or she failed and injured herself. Still, they could bring out the best in her, and surely some help would be allowed.
Mercy assumed a cycling position and calmed her beating heart. For this, her mother’s attitude was helpful.
“I can handle this,” Mercy said.
Then she reached into her spirit and pushed out her Remnant.
This required nigh-perfect madra control, a spirit with a high level of existence, and a refined will. Fortunately, Mercy had been preparing for this. The Book of Eternal Night had trained her, and its materials empowered her.
Her Remnant flowed out until a dark, shadowy copy of herself sat on the opposite side of the circle. Their knees were almost touching.
Unlike Yerin’s Blood Shadow, this wasn’t a perfect copy of Mercy. It didn’t resemble her mother’s Remnant, either, except in color. Malice’s had been a razor-edged creature of spider limbs with three mouths.
This looked like Mercy made in shadow madra, but shorter. And softer, more rounded. It wasn’t entirely black, either, but highlighted with shades of purple. Its large eyes and wide smile were bright to the point of being called violet, and its hair streamed behind it like drifting shadow.
The thought struck Mercy as wrong, but it was almost…cute.
“Hi!” Mercy’s Remnant said. “Are you me?”
Mercy edged backwards. This must be a trick. Her mother’s Remnant had used lies and illusions to deceive Malice, even tricking Malice into killing some of her own descendants.
“I am the original,” Mercy said firmly. “You are my Remnant, and you will serve my will.”
“Whatever I can do to help!”
The Remnant held out a hand with rounded, stubby fingers.
Mercy hesitated. Against her better judgment and her mother’s instincts, she said, “Are you…Are you sure?”
“You’re going to do something hard, aren’t you? It makes you sad.” The Remnant patted her chest. “I want to help you.”
It hadn’t been long since Mercy stopped crying, but tears welled up in her eyes again. “Thank you.”
The Remnant beamed. “Don’t give up, Mercy! We’ll do this together!”
Then the spirit flowed back into Mercy, weaving through her body. Archlord soulfire supported the process, and Mercy could feel herself changing.
But not very much.
In the end, the only obvious change she kept was her hair. It floated like a gas, or like it was drifting through water. The same sort of hair Uncle Fury had. And her mother.
When she was finished, Mercy stood up and brushed off her knees. “Well, uh…I made it!”