These chapters continue the search for allies, both old and new, and the management of sublime resources. I've said things along these lines before, but while this book still includes the characters acquiring materials for themselves, I'm also trying to emphasize their integrated role in the broader worlds.
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Chapter 32
Returning to the United Norron Tournament was a surreal experience. Theo kept expecting the sky to change colors or the buildings to melt into monsters around him, and the fact that they didn't left him reeling. He actually hovered an inch off the ground on his way back, just so he could remain oriented.
Senka was grouchy, but their results hadn't been bad. He had a provisional agreement with the Orphic Cabal, an alliance with the House of the Lost, and leads on two different rivers. It should be easy to return to any of those and make progress... once he had the presence of mind to do so.
Nothing seemed to have attacked the tournament, and he distantly remembered all his concerns about it being a trap. Given that Vistgil was battling ancient secret societies and eldritch abominations, maybe it was quaint to think that he would target mere soulcrafters. Then again, if Theo had learned anything, it was that Vistgil worked through a thousand hands because the Nine Worlds were too vast for anyone to handle things themselves.
He didn't find Nauda in any of her usual places, and Krikree wasn't with the Slescans, so Theo went looking for the House Blacksilver insignia. Even here, amid so many different factions, he found it soon enough: outside a house of healing dedicated to restoring injured tournament fighters of any faction.
Right, he distantly remembered talking to the House about that, during one of the times they were pleased with him. He had relied on the Blacksilver impulse to help people in order to encourage houses like this, which would both help the tournament run more smoothly and keep all the contestants healthy. If they did get attacked, the contestants would be at full strength and ready to fight back.
Once inside, he blinked at representatives he didn't recognize until abruptly he saw Karchibol fly down toward him. The old Authority seemed to be having a good time and clapped Theo on the shoulders when he approached.
"The tournament is underway, and Blacksilver is doing well!" Karchibol laughed and shook his head. "You're missing all the exciting stuff!"
"I'm sure I am," Theo said. "Where's Nauda?"
~
Returning to Siata was an unusual experience, though not in the way Fiyu had expected: after all of the otherworldly locations she had visited there, Fiyu was most surprised when Friend Theo's coordinates took her to a region that could almost have existed anywhere else. The green column that surrounded the community was so large that she could not feel the darkness around it from many locations, and she only observed the strange pastel sky if she used her physical eyes.
Beyond that, the city known as Quiet Garden was an ordinary-enough place, especially compared to the Great Azure or any of the other Siatan cities she had visited. Siatan beings everywhere, certainly, and more buildings constructed from plants or other natural materials, but it had the streets and rhythm of a normal city, and so many neighborhoods that Fiyu could not possibly grasp all of them during a brief visit.
For a location that was meant to be the home of an aeon-class soulcrafter, one of the most powerful beings in the Nine Worlds, it was rather ordinary. Even the center-most location, the gardens that gave the entire city their name, were truly just gardens, not even extraordinarily sublime.
This had nothing to do with her mission, however, which remained essential. When she first arrived, Fiyu spent some time analyzing the movement patterns from stealth, in case there were any traps, and then determined that she could go directly to speak to the Siatans who guarded the central gardens. The rest of the city might have seemed less impressive to her, but there were multiple Dominion-tier beings in the ordinary gardens, where such a gathering would have been remarkable on Norron.
"You have wandered from your path, outsider," one of the Siatans said with deceptive gentleness. It had a pink almost child-like form, yet its Dominion-tier cantae struck her as especially intense.
"I wish to speak to the Caretaker." Fiyu stopped and bowed respectfully as she extended the flower she had been given. The Siatan regarded with unreadable eyes, its strangely dense body giving her no hints as to its thoughts.
"Your token is acknowledged, but not yet accepted." The Siatan guardian gently pushed it back toward her. "And why do you wish to speak to the Caretaker?"
"I am here on behalf of my allies," Fiyu explained. "We face a terrible enemy with aeon-class strength, and without support, we cannot find a path to victory."
"The Caretaker will not leave his gardens to fight battles, much less wars with such terrible stakes. If you think a mere token is enough to recruit him, you are mistaken."
"But is it worth nothing? We also need knowledge, or sublime materials, or any advantage that the Caretaker is willing to give. I have several sublime materials that... they may not impress you here, but they are still unique in this place."
Perhaps she chose the wrong tactic, or violated some unknown social rule, because the guardian drew back. "Return in three days," it said curtly. "This is not the time for such things."
She didn't want to cause any offense, so Fiyu retreated from the central fields and found a place to stay in the foreign district of Quiet Garden. That was trivial by comparison: she didn't need a flower or any other token; the proprietors of inns accepted craftgems.
Three days was too long to spend the entire time soulcrafting, so Fiyu explored where she could. In particular, she wanted to see what sublime materials might be sold in a city with such a high average tier - even if the place was relatively unimpressive, there were a great many soulcrafters about. She certainly discovered more potent shops than she had ever seen on Fithe, but their wares were uneven when it came to her rank, again reminding her how difficult it was to acquire materials at Stronghold and above.
Instead of investigating shops, Fiyu sought sources of ethereal materials. After many fruitless or confusing attempts, she discovered something unusual: a Siatan mine. The Siatans did not tear into the earth, instead they used techniques to pass through the stone and sift for materials. More important to her search, the materials were overwhelmingly ethereal.
There she found strokes of good and bad luck in turn: they had uncovered a material called a wakestone that could be perfect for her... but they would not accept money in exchange. The only payment they would take was the deadgold, the entire sphere that Fiyu had been safekeeping up to that point.
Part of her wanted to use it now: why hold such materials, if not to exchange them for value? But she agreed with Friend Theo that the greatest use of the deadgold was to secure alliances. The deadgold was the only thing she possessed that could possibly be of interest to the Caretaker, and since his guardians already seemed so skeptical, she denied the urge to trade it for a personal material.
At the end of three days, Fiyu returned to the central gardens, and this time she was allowed inside.
"The Caretaker's time is precious," the guardian told her. "Enter, lay down your token, and offer an exchange."
"I understand," Fiyu said. She drew her robes close around herself as they floated to the innermost garden, which was hidden from the rest of the city by a grove that felt ancient compared to everything outside.
As she entered, Fiyu soon discovered a small clearing. The Caretaker knelt in the center, a small green Siatan who nonetheless held an aura of ancient might. All he was doing was cupping his hands around a flower, yet the flower grew visibly as she watched, becoming taller and brighter. Fiyu had to force herself to breathe and move forward.
"We need your help," Fiyu said, and when she got no response, she hastened to set down her flower token alongside the deadgold sphere. "This is deadgold, formed from Plutalgion of the Tymetronese empire."
The Caretaker showed no sign of hearing her until the name Plutalgion, when his attention shifted away from his flower. His face had four emerald eyes but no mouth, and the four regarded her without the slightest indication of the thoughts behind them.
"Plutalgion is a great evil," the Caretaker said, his voice whisper-soft. "But what do you seek?"
"Would it be possible to exchange the deadgold for one of your guardians, to help us?"
"No, the flower children should not leave this place. When that day comes, many will perish."
"Very well. But could it pay for other sublime materials? Or could you study it and teach us something that we could use against Plutalgion?"
"The material has some merit, but strength alone means very little. It is the wrong sort of gift, a payment where a token is required. This will not do."
With that, the Caretaker turned away... and a terribly subtle power flowed around Fiyu, transporting her outside the garden. She hadn't even felt it grasp hold of her, which was so terrifying that she trembled in the aftermath. Her deadgold sphere sat in front of her, rejected, and she felt a twinge of despair before she saw what lay beside it.
"This means the Caretaker rejected your attempt at payment," one of the guardians told her firmly. "Take your mercantile ways to a world that deserves them."
"What does this mean?" Fiyu picked up the black and white flower. "Why did he return this?"
The guardians glanced at one another before one spoke reluctantly. "The Caretaker rejected your payment, but not you. It means that you have been given another chance."
~
Returning to Slest was an unnerving experience, now that Nauda knew everything going on behind the scenes. Every time she passed a group of soldier ants, she wondered who they fought for and what they represented in the political balance. Whenever she watched the inhabitants of Acidmount going about their business, she wondered what discontent they carried within.
She wasn't returning to overthrow the Slescan order, however, just to coordinate her deal with Bluepetal. Now that Theo was back to monitor things, she could take up the offer. That led her outside the city, where a number of Slescans swarmed over the deadgold at Bluepetal's direction.
There were more different species than she expected, everything from leafpuller beetles to ants to strange insects that spat acid. All that seemed to unite them was following the pheromones Bluepetal emitted, and a focus on the gold. The sphere she had received was melted down and thoroughly analyzed, revealing that it was actually an alloy of several different materials. All sublime metals, and all golden, but a different sort of unity than she had believed at first.
At last it was done: the workers pulled away from the deadgold, which had been converted into a gleaming ingot. Nauda stepped forward and picked it up carefully, not certain what to think.
[I assure you, the material has been modified for your use,] Bluepetal emitted. [The protective effects will now operate simply via the link to your soulhome, provided that the material is worked into an appropriate armament.]
[Can you do that too?] Nauda asked as she pulled out her gauntlet and examined it. The individual plates were such subtle work, so carefully articulated... she didn't want to dismiss the Slescans' work in any way, but she wasn't sure how the deadgold could be fused into the armament.
[We cannot, but I spoke with Navim and made changes to his specifications.]
[Wait, since when do you even know about Navim?]
[He is clearly a member of your hive, and you spoke to him several times regarding your armaments while I was observing the tournament.] Bluepetal moved closer and looked up at her. [I figured I should make the arrangement myself to avoid wasting your time. Was I wrong?]
[Not at all.] Nauda smiled as she hefted the gauntlet in one hand and the deadgold in the other.
She did her best to emit thankful pheromones to all the Slescans who had done the work for her, though she had no idea if it really got through because they didn't respond much except for an occasional [Symbiote!] pheromone. Then it was time to take Bluepetal back to Fithe... to Norro Yorthin instead of the tournament compound, now that she knew more about their aims.
When they arrived, Navim did not look at all surprised to see them together, nor when she deposited both items on his work table.
"Have you been planning armaments behind my back?" Nauda asked with a grin.
"The three of you are busy enough," Navim said as he pulled the deadgold closer to use his examination limbs on it. "Yes, this will do nicely. If you give me a week or two, I can deliver you a fully upgraded armament."
"I appreciate that, but I'm in no hurry to get back. Can I watch you work?"
"By all means."
Nauda pulled up a chair to observe as Navim separated the components of her gauntlet, taking care not to damage all the sublime materials or their links. She knew how to care for armaments, but didn't fully understand the deeper arts related to their creation. For example, she could see that the interior sublime leather linked the gauntlet to her body, in addition to being comfortable, but she still didn't see how so much deadgold would integrate into a single gauntlet.
"What exactly are you doing?" Nauda asked as she watched. "Do I need to understand the details?"
"All you need to do is observe the shape," Navim said, "and create a corresponding gauntlet of half the deadgold within your soulhome. However, you are welcome to ask further questions if you want."
"I'm just wondering how it's all going to come together. I can push sublime materials into each other, I just don't understand the spiritual aspect to it."
"Ah, that is more complex. Sublime materials placed together could be called an armament, yes, but true artifacts are marked by having a spiritual space within them. Some draw parallels to soulhomes, and say this is the 'soul of the item' but this is an inaccuracy that I believe can mislead. The object itself does not have an inner space, the materials simply can operate on a spiritual level."
"Like a soulhome without a soul?" Nauda asked.
"That is closer, but not precisely accurate. The essential difference is that it is not truly a space, even though it can be perceived as one, just as soulhomes are tangible spaces, yet should not be mistaken for literal homes within the soul."
Navim continued to lecture her about the basics and she enjoyed learning as much as she could, because much of it was new to her. This sort of armament crafting had been highly specialized in every part of Tatian she'd ever lived, so it was a blind spot for her. She knew that Theo had a basic grasp of it, but when she'd asked a question about her staff, he had told her honestly that he hadn't developed the ability enough to give a solid answer.
Clearly Navim had a strong theoretical understanding, even if Nauda still found herself thinking of the armament as having a miniature soulhome of its own. That answered one of her questions: the extra deadgold was placed into this spiritual space, where it reinforced the thin layer of deadgold that would go over the metal in the physical plane.
When the first test was done, Navim handed the gauntlet back to Nauda and she flexed her hand, testing it out. A bit heavier, but not unwieldy given her increased strength.
[Will that do?] Bluepetal asked from across the room. [We took great care, but there are always uncertainties with such crafting.]
"This will work great." Nauda smiled at them both as she pulled off the gauntlet. "Thank you for everything... I'll be back for the final product."
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Chapter 33
Exploring mind-bending locations and negotiating with eldritch abominations might have thrown him off, but Theo couldn't let those experiences overwhelm him: there was soulcrafting to do.
After some time with empty chambers, it felt strange to be juggling too many materials. The voidiamond he'd just received seemed like the perfect material to set off his next singularity, and not so long ago he would have already imploded it. Now he found himself reconsidering, trying to find an absolutely optimum configuration. The problem was that he also had the bloodruby, which no longer had a place on the corporeal side of his floor... unless he changed the plan for his reserved corner room, which would throw off even older plans.
He even found himself considering whether or not the Orphic Cabal might take it as an insult if he didn't use the material they had given him. At a bare minimum, it would make giving him sublime materials seem like a poor investment. Political and social implications were a new layer to soulcrafting, and this was one complication he thought it could do without.
Fortunately, he had the new mass of twisted flesh to occupy his time. When he'd first analyzed the chamber with a clear eye, it had seemed like an alien infection, but he'd quickly come to like it. Despite being a living mass of tissue that throbbed to an unnatural beat, it was still a sublime material. Ultimately, it was a constructed material, just one constructed by a being with a very different mind to his own.
Strands of flesh had stretched into other rooms, but they had cooperated when Theo chiseled them away, and as he came to understand the twisted flesh, it almost seemed to respond to his will. It gave him a different sort of strength than any natural enhancement he'd felt, as if there were alien muscle fibers woven through his own. He hadn't entirely figured out what the new organ in his stomach did, but he'd been sleeping less and he still felt completely fresh.
So Theo worked on finalizing yet another corporeal chamber while he considered the question of his singularity and pondered his remaining ethereal chambers. His Stronghold floor was coming together sooner than he'd expected, but seeing so many other soulcrafters reminded him that he needed an excellent design, not a merely adequate one.
Ordinarily, the tournament would have been a decent distraction in the background while he soulcrafted. There were a few things he actually enjoyed: for example, Victon had won his matches so far, adapting his soulhome to new challenges. Krikree and Bluepetal were cheering for the Slescans, one more enthusiastically than the other, and he found himself rooting for them too. About half of the Deuxans had been knocked out as the Authority tournament grew more difficult, though he hoped that Chlira and Lalye would persist with new humility about other worlds.
The problem with any of that was written all over the tournament brackets: the Darkblade Sect. Raythe had somehow built up a following, and every single appearance of it soured Theo's mood. It didn't matter that the sect didn't stand for anything or that none of them were really loyal, because Raythe would never once think about those things. All that mattered was that he had followers who made him feel like the most important person in the world.
If the political balance had been different, Theo would have confronted him directly. But even if Vistgil wasn't watching directly, Theo needed this soulcrafting time. It was only about a week until his scheduled appointment with the Splitblood Association, Fiyu had sent a message that she was concerned, and no doubt there would be other problems arising soon.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Nauda landed on the roof beside him. Normally he was glad to see her, but judging from her grim expression, she was bearing the expected problems.
"The Dominion of the Wavefront is demanding to speak to House Blacksilver," she explained. "Dhan is out fighting in Dris Kolonb and I don't trust the representatives we have on hand."
"Melitta?" Theo asked. "What did she want?"
"You're on a casual name basis with the Waveleader?" Nauda sighed. "That's why I came to you, though. She wants to have a formal meeting, and she suggested that it had to do with the distribution of deadgold."
"I'll handle it." As he got to his feet, however, Theo considered all of the things he needed to do and realized that he was taking on too much again. "Is there anywhere you particularly wanted to go?"
"I'll visit Acidmount again at some point, but otherwise no. I figured I was holding down the fort while you and Fiyu made arrangements."
"Let me handle that for now. I have something more important that you might honestly be better at doing."
When he gestured for her to approach, Nauda stepped closer and eyed him strangely. "What is it?"
"This is an artifact Dave gave me." Theo handed over the strange pearl compass. "It allegedly leads to the Demonstalkers... though we aren't sure exactly how. I've been meaning to pursue them, but it could take an unknown amount of time to figure everything out."
"The Demonstalkers? Aren't they the aeon-class organization so paranoid that they didn't even show up when everyone else did?"
"Yes, but my understanding is that they particularly hate Vistgil and outsiders. They're suspicious of Dave, and they'd probably become suspicious of me too. But you're a native of the Nine Worlds, so you might be able to get through to them."
"I can try." Nauda gripped the compass tightly and nodded to him. "I can't promise getting any aeon-class soulcrafters on our team, though. Seems to me like if they had the guts to fight Plutalgion, they would already have made an attempt."
"It's not like anyone else is coming back with easy answers," Theo said with a shrug. "I want to give advice, but you already understand the bind we're in. Oh, try to get some more deadgold from House Blacksilver, just in case it could influence their decision. About the compass, I don't know everything about how it works, so-"
"Actually, I have a guess. This looks similar to the artifact I used to track down weirkeys, so I may be able to figure it out." Nauda tucked the compass into her soulhome and reached forward to grip his arm. "You handle the Wavefront, I'll handle the Demonstalkers, and we'll have this war wrapped up by lunchtime."
Theo chuckled despite himself. "Should be easy."
They split up to take care of things, though Theo actually didn't meet with the Wavefront that very hour. Instead he arranged a meeting the next day, far from the tournament grounds. When he arrived at the weirkey coordinates, he discovered that they were actually off the eastern shore of Norron.
An island sat within sight of the coast, dominated by a single enormous fortress made of red stone. He saw land Fithans on the battlements, and the landscape around had been gouged by many explosions over the years, which was no surprise given how it was so far into the ocean. It seemed that there had been an attack recently, judging from recent rubble and a few bodies being cleared away.
"There you are." Melitta hovered overhead near the clouds, her gauntlets opening and closing restlessly. "We need to talk about the Darkblade Sect."
"Fine." Theo flew up beside her and looked over the same oceanscape, even though it meant far less to him. "Is it really that much of a problem? This tournament is already filled with different factions."
"Ones that were understood, and largely at peace with one another." Melitta turned to face him and he saw that her mouth was set in a grimace. "You realize the United Norron Tournament has barely been going on for a month? When it started, this new faction didn't exist, but it's already gained this much attention."
Truthfully, Theo hadn't realized that the tournament had been going on for that long because he'd been spending so much time weirkeying between worlds. But she was discussing Raythe, who bothered him on multiple levels, so it was easy to match her grimace as he responded.
"I don't mean to trivialize the issue," Theo said, "but isn't it something you can take action against? Raythe isn't going to steal away your loyal followers any more than the Ruling Cities or Asplundat Movement can. He has nothing to offer but promises."
"When the honest have only warnings, there is always a market for liars to sell promises." Melitta shook her head, her ponytail whipping sharply behind her. "It's worse than you think. When this alliance began, we had more soulcrafters from the oceans joining us than ever before. Now too many of them are slipping over to the other side... the fact that Raythe doesn't have a history here is actually in his favor."
"Then why not act against him? You seem to understand the risk if he keeps building followers."
"Because we can't afford to scorn a Dominion, not when Tymetron's attacks are growing fiercer. The fact that we had secret deadgold kept them at bay for a long time, but just last month, they brought two Dominions at once and nearly took down Crintak. All but the most ignorant know that we're on the back foot... if I went up against one of the only Dominions to join our side, I'd have a mutiny on my hands."
As frustrating as it was to see Raythe pushing his way into Fithan politics, the logic was eerily familiar to Theo: he was facing exactly the same problem with the overwhelming odds. And looking at it from this angle, he understood how a flashy braggart like Raythe could gather a following. Guchiro was unquestionably stronger, but he didn't seek publicity, and the House of the Lost would never inspire anyone.
"So why did you call me here?" Theo asked as the silence stretched. "We both agree there's a problem, and that the obvious solutions might be even worse. You think I can do something about it?"
"There's a lot of confusion about you. Multiple names, multiple identities." Melitta turned away and spoke more to the ocean than to him. "But I had my people look a little further, and you're a true outsider, aren't you? The two of you are from the same place, outside the Nine Worlds."
Theo didn't respond. And even though Melitta outranked him by tier or by position, she was the one who first shifted uncomfortably.
"Understand that I'm taking a risk by contacting you. There are some who think that Raythe's methods are clearly superior, that we should make an alliance with this Darkblade Sect before they grow too large. But the chaotic pattern of this, I just..."
"Don't misunderstand," Theo said slowly, "we don't know one another, and we aren't connected. But yes, Raythe and I are from the same world. And yes, you're right to mistrust him. Not because of any outside reason, but because you can see who he is."
That got a quick smirk from Melitta, though it disappeared just as quickly. "He's using a new method, somehow extracting gold from captured Tymetronese soulcrafters and using it to make deadgold for his followers. You remember how much effort we expended to acquire a dozen pieces of deadgold? He's making several international units per day. It's hard to argue with results like that."
"Only if you're confident his methods are flawless. If it was that easy to produce deadgold, why haven't they done it in the Gold Wastes and flooded the market?"
"Exactly what I said." Melitta sighed and finally turned back to him. "Maybe what I needed was someone to tell me that I'm not insane to turn aside from this power. There are definitely those who want me to start making deals with his sect instead of trading deeper into the oceans."
"I think it's a mistake." For all that he'd used misdirection and deception during his time in the Nine, now Theo met her gaze and spoke earnestly. "I can't say it with certainty, but I think that those who ally with Raythe and his sect will eventually come to regret it."
"Hm. No promises, but I hope we can take that path."
Abruptly Melitta tossed something in his direction, and when Theo caught the shining piece of metal, he realized that it was sublime gold. Not quite like deadgold, far brighter and shinier... livegold? Slavegold? He knew what it was even before Melitta explained.
"That's a sample of the deadgold Raythe is distributing," she told him. "I don't know if you can do anything with it, but I trust your judgment over his."
"Why?" Theo asked. "We're both outsiders, and you know the logic of power. He's a higher tier and he's gaining more influence."
For a time she didn't answer, and it almost seemed like she would fly away, but as Melitta began to drift toward the fortress, she spoke softly. "Because I believe that you love the Nine Worlds, and Raythe only sees them as a mirror for himself."
Theo didn't follow, remaining in the air above the fortress and holding the bright metal in his hand. He gripped it tightly for a long time.