Instead, he drew it into his soulspace.

It was somewhat like devouring madra through his hunger madra arm, but when he looked within and inspected his madra, he could see the Archstone floating among his madra channels with perfect clarity. It hung above his cores, a white moon above a blue star and a dark one.

He had practiced bringing objects in and out of his soulspace ever since he’d opened it, but he hadn’t determined what to keep there. Maybe, if he ever learned to use a weapon and bonded one, he would store a sacred instrument. Or maybe he wouldn’t fill it with anything permanently, but would keep surprises in there. The Archstone counted.

“Gratitude, Eithan,” he said, trying to ignore the stares. “Please, lift your head. Really, please.”

As though he had done nothing out of the ordinary, Eithan straightened up. “I would wait to break that until you’re ready to Forge it, by the way,” he said, sweeping his long yellow hair back over one shoulder. “You don’t want the madra to lose any potency, and you never know what it will do if you break it uncontrolled.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He saluted, fists together. “And I am truly grateful.”

Eithan accepted that and said a few words to Cassias and Naru Jing. But as he turned to go back toward the Emperor, he paused as though he had forgotten something and turned back. To Yerin.

He placed a hand on her head. “Be calm, little sister,” he said quietly. “You have many years ahead of you.”

Then he spun and walked away, waving behind him as he did so.

Yerin looked as though she had seen the heavens and earth flip upside-down. Lindon moved to stand next to her.

Cassias tightened a glove. “One day, I will see him truly surprised. I think the shock of it might kill me.”

The wind picked up, swirling around them. Power gathered to the propulsion constructs in the back of the ship, until the entire vessel thrummed with palpable force.

All eyes naturally turned to the front. To the Emperor.

He had changed clothes again, and this time looked like he belonged on the battlefield. He wore green sacred artist's robes, his wings spread behind him, and he gave off the air of a warrior king. He spread his arms, and in Lindon's Copper sight, the aura around him burned a pale green.

The ship lifted up, the propulsion constructs gathering even more power. Lindon could hear them now, like spinning blades.

With one gesture of the Overlord's hand, the cloudship shot forward.

Mercy stood to his left, tethered to the deck with Chainkeeper madra. Eithan and Naru Saeya stood on his right, each peering forward.

As they blasted away from the Blackflame capital and into a column of dark power.

Yerin's face was tight, her spirit in chaos. The lowest pair of sword-arms had driven into the wood of the deck, but the others had been withdrawn. She stood with hair whipping in the wind of their passage, eyes focused on the darkness.

Lindon had knelt, letting his Remnant fingers stick into the wood and materializing them enough that he could get a grip. He held himself in place as they flew, reaching the portal in only a few breaths.

Underlord waited on the other side.

As they passed through the seemingly endless darkness, the others faded from Lindon's perception. He took the moment to steady his own breathing.

Are you ready? he asked Dross.

[Ready? Of course I'm ready. I'm looking forward to it, actually. A bit of excitement. I'm a lot more worried about Yerin. She could die, you know. And it's all on her, whether she makes it through or not. We're completely powerless. Nothing we can do to help.]

Lindon couldn't feel much of his own body, but he was sure he had tensed up.

[But I'm sure she'll be fine,] Dross added.

Slowly, the world returned.

They emerged from the column of shadow far faster than Lindon ever had before. Eithan and Naru Saeya were pointing and shouting to the Emperor, though Lindon couldn't make out what they were saying over the wind.

A massive wall of light, knitted together from strands of silver and yellow, barred their way. It encircled the Blackflame portal, covering the space from earth to clouds, radiating eternal force.

The Emperor's voice boomed out. “Chon Ma. Kotai Reina.”

The Underlord of the Cloud Hammer school pulled both hammers from his belt, the stormcloud over his head flashing with lightning. He leaped forward, ahead of even the ship.

He was joined a step later by one of the new Underlords, an Underlady with gray skin and long, flowing silver hair gathered behind her in a purple ribbon. She looked like a grandmother who had aged well, and as she flew, vivid blue constructs bloomed into the air around her like flowers.

Chon Ma ran on the air, a dark cloud blooming under his foot with every step. As he reached the yellow-and-silver wall, he let out a roar, swinging both hammers. Mist blasted out from him in an explosion.

At the same time, the Underlady lifted off the deck, blue flower-constructs spinning around her. They opened, releasing streams of lightning-bright sapphire energy that pierced the wall in half a dozen places.

The cloudship didn't slow down.

Chon Ma leaped up as the ship caught up to him, landing on the deck. The Underlady drifted back down in a dignified manner. Together, their attacks had left a web of cracks that covered the face of the wall, but they had only punched through in small holes. Nothing nearly big enough for the ship to pass through.

Lindon braced himself as the cloudship struck.

The wall shattered like glass, shards exploding as the prow of the ship broke through. The noise was deafening, a sharp-edged detonation, and pieces of silver-and-yellow madra careened through the air.

Lindon had to release the deck with his Remnant hand, leaning low to avoid being blown backwards, so that he could reach up and slap away a fragment of power the size of his chest.

No one on the deck was weak enough to be caught up in the destruction; none of the fragments came even close to Yerin, and Eithan was able to casually stand in front of Mercy. The madra simply dissolved when it came close to his skin.

And they were through, shooting over the dark trees of the valley. The Night Wheel itself spun slowly overhead, gathering purple light, and the strength of the aura here felt like diving into an ocean of power. The ship turned, making for the huge layered fortress that had swallowed up the eastern mountain, lit only by spots of violet or orange light.

Lindon gripped the deck again. The cloudship was tilted now, the bow rising, so that he was in danger of sliding backwards.

He pushed his perception outward, sensing the unity of aura, preparing to advance. But he knew the problem even before Dross said anything.

[I don't want to discourage you, but you'll need your full concentration if you want to advance. Which means you won't be able to keep aura cycling to your arm, and you will fall.]

It was even more complicated than that, Lindon knew. He wanted to Forge the Archstone into his arm as he advanced, and in order to do that, he would have to let go of the deck or the hand would remain permanently fused there.

Lindon looked up to Yerin, who offered a hand without a word. He took it in his hand of flesh, once again concentrating on the unity of aura. She held him as securely as if he were tied to the ship.

[Oh! That's a better idea, so long as you don't care about what happens to Yerin. She's not ready to advance yet, so the soulfire will burn her hand off. But then, you have a Remnant hand...]