The skill wasn’t as clear as reading thoughts like they were written on a page, but she could read general impressions. Coming face-to-face with his Remnant pained him. Its appearance told him something about himself, something he didn’t like.
Emriss left him as his Remnant flickered out, sliding back into his spirit. It would take him a few more attempts to manifest it steadily enough for a conversation.
And to prepare for a fight. Fights were common during Herald manifestation, given that the sacred arts were primarily used as weapons.
She found Mercy easily enough, along with a very restless Yerin.
And Little Blue, who wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Just snapped into place for me, I don’t know how many other words I need to say it.” Yerin paced back and forth, rubbing her hands together. Emriss suspected she wanted to be gripping a sword.
“But you had a connection to the Icon already,” Mercy said. “You used Penance, and you’d been working on Eithan’s attack.”
Yerin threw up her hands. “I don’t know! Got to be something personal to you, doesn’t it?” She stopped mid-stride and took a deep breath. “…sorry. Not trying to cut you deeper.”
Little Blue patted Yerin on the shoulder. Then she ran over and rubbed Mercy’s head. She even sent soothing pure madra into Mercy, at which point Emriss made her presence known.
Not that she had particularly been hiding. She’d just been standing quiet and still. A specialty of trees.
“Connecting to an Icon is a lifelong pursuit,” Emriss said. Despite her gentle tone, all three of the young ladies reacted like she’d leaped out from behind a bush. Little Blue spun around and hid both hands behind her back guiltily, as though Emriss would find a stain on them.
Emriss did give Blue a reproving look. “You aren’t supposed to be using madra yet. You almost died. It’s difficult even for me to heal wounds made by another Monarch.”
Little Blue shuffled and murmured something indistinct, kicking the ground.
“I’d contend I’ve about reached the end of the road here,” Yerin said. “Time to move on to the fight, true?”
“I’m not sure I follow your mathematics. Let’s say I could keep Miara under control while the Empire contained Reigan. That would leave you and Lindon against the Dreadgods together. Can you handle the Bleeding Phoenix?”
Right now, the battle between Dreadgods could be felt by everyone in the world with sufficient advancement. Yerin should be sensing the Phoenix’s power like a crimson bonfire.
“Better than Lindon fighting one-on-two,” Yerin insisted.
“Is it?”
Yerin knew it wasn’t, and that was why she hadn’t left yet. Emriss could see her thoughts hanging around her head like a shifting cloud.
Not only would Yerin’s arrival not shift the scales in Lindon’s favor, it might accomplish the opposite. The Dreadgods wouldn’t hold back their attacks as they had for Reigan Shen, so just getting close to the battle would put Yerin’s life in jeopardy. Lindon would have to fight while watching out for her.
If they were going to join the battle, it needed to be with a group that could actually take on at least one of the empowered Dreadgods.
Emriss had made some preparations for that herself, but the more Monarchs they had, the better. Lindon could hold on a little while longer, and every minute he stayed in battle brought them that much closer to new allies.
Yerin ran a hand through her hair and looked about ready to say something, but instead she turned back to Mercy. “You’ve been using a bow since you were half a foot tall, right? And you have the memories for it! Should be a springtime walk.”
Mercy gave a shaky smile, but Emriss knew she was thinking differently. The Bow Icon wasn’t the closest one to her, and she could feel that. But at the same time, she was understandably hung up on her mother’s death. She wasn’t in the right state of mind to connect to the Icon she felt.
Or so she thought.
“Yerin, why don’t you go help Ziel?” Emriss suggested. Not only would that give Emriss room to counsel Mercy, but Yerin actually did have good insight into the advancement to Herald.
In the meantime, Emriss could speak to Akura Mercy about what it meant to bring joy.
28
With Yerin’s help, Ziel raised pillars of stone from the earth and inscribed protective scripts into them. They had to contain his advancement to Herald, and Ziel was certain his Remnant wouldn’t be cooperative.
The one glance he’d taken was enough to convince him of that.
“Let’s hope my Herald advancement will go as smoothly as Mercy’s,” he said to Yerin.
She eyed him as she pulled up a stone slab several times bigger than she was. “You’d contend that your Remnant will be as soft as spring grass, would you?”
“No.”
“Same on my side.” She settled the slab into place with an earth-shaking slam. “Not an expert on this kind of advancement, but I’d bet you’re in for a fight.”
Ziel didn’t think so.
“No,” he said with a sigh. “My Remnant will just sit there.”
Yerin scratched a rune into the stone, following instructions Dross was giving her. “You’d say so?”
“You saw it. I’ll be wrestling dead weight.” If anything, Ziel was worried that integrating his Remnant more closely into his body would slow him down. He had been lifeless for so long that the reality of his uselessness had settled into his soul.
Dross popped into visibility beside Ziel’s head. [That’s possible, sure! It’s hard to say how someone’s Remnant will act, and I don’t have as many memories of advancing to Herald as I want. But…]
Emriss Silentborn’s voice blew over to them like leaves on a gentle wind. “You should expect a fight.”
Ziel scratched the side of his horns. “Are you sure? It just sat there.”
“Ready to draw swords,” Yerin said.
With the stone circle drawn wide—much larger than Mercy’s—Ziel shrugged and sat down in the center. “If you say so.” Privately, he still thought the others were underestimating him. Or overestimating his Remnant.
They hadn’t known him during those years when he had wandered the Wasteland, with nothing and no one to guide him. They couldn’t understand the scars time had left behind.
Ziel felt better than he had in years, but it would take much longer for his soul to get the message. Then again, if Emriss said so, he could be a little careful.
He pulled his hammer from his soulspace and set it to one side. Then he began to manifest his spirit once again.
[Don’t worry about your instability after advancing,] Dross said in a soothing tone. [There will definitely be some instability, so there’s no point worrying about it. That’s what Emriss is here for.]
Ziel knew the plan. Without stolen time and elixirs, he wouldn’t be ready to advance to Monarch for decades at the earliest, so forcing the advancement would severely damage him. Fortunately, they had a plan for that.
He only had to do his part and take the first step into a new future. A new life. With that vision clear in his mind, Ziel manifested his Remnant.
It was exactly as he’d feared.
The thing was a hulking jade creature, largely humanoid but with the head of a snarling monster. Its dull green horns were larger and sharper than Ziel’s, and its four-fingered hands were slabs of muscle that opened and closed as though waiting for a skull to crush.
As with most Herald-level Remnants he’d seen, his looked as real as a sacred beast. Though this one seemed like it had been the victim of cruel violence. It was covered in scars, a spiderweb of old wounds where the Remnant had been taken apart and stitched together long ago.