Underlord (Cradle #6)(71)

He almost started to talk about what he was doing, the preparations he was making, but he stopped himself. He knew what she meant.

“I should be Underlord by now,” he said at last.

He expected her to say that he shouldn't be upset. Many people went their whole lives without the chance to reach Underlord. Instead, her eyes went wide in sympathy, and she nodded. “It's the most frustrating advancement. Some people go from Truegold to Underlord in an afternoon. I had a cousin who spent five years chasing sillier and sillier truths about herself before finally figuring out that her real revelation was that she practiced sacred arts for no reason. She just enjoyed it. Once she admitted that, her way was clear. It's hard, because you can never figure out when you're on the right track and need to push deeper, and when you're totally wrong.”

“Yes!” Lindon said. “Until now, advancement has been clear. You make yourself one step stronger every day, keep practicing and cycling aura and strengthening your spirit, and it adds up. Now, all of a sudden, it's different.”

Mercy pulled out the chair beneath the table, sitting down and leaning her staff against her shoulder. “There are a lot of sayings about it, at least in my family.” She imitated a deeper voice. “'To know the world, you must first know yourself.' 'You must deepen your connection to your own soul if you wish to command the world.' 'Underlord is the end of the path you walked for others, and the beginning of your own path.'“ She waved a hand. “They make it sound like it fits, but they’re all guessing. I did get one practical piece of advice from my tutors, though.”

She leaned forward, looking deep into his eyes. “Follow your fear. It's a trick that sometimes helps to figure out your revelation. A lot of people push themselves into deadly situations, to figure out what they care about enough to die for, but you've done plenty of that. Obviously that isn't it for you. So...follow your fear.”

“I'm afraid of a lot of things,” Lindon said. Especially at the moment. Losing Yerin, failing to advance and being left behind, failing his family. He was afraid he had left home for nothing and was wasting his time out here playing at being a sacred artist. He was afraid Eithan would see his effort on Lindon as a waste, afraid that Orthos would never return, afraid that Dross would somehow grow out of control and consume his mind, afraid that Blackflame madra would one day scorch his soul with damage he couldn't heal...

“Too many things,” he added.

Mercy thumped the carpet with the end of her staff. “Let’s try it now! We don’t have much time left, so it’s worth a try, right? Cycling position!”

It was somewhat embarrassing to start meditating on command in front of someone like this, but it wasn't as though she hadn't seen him cycling before. He climbed back down, sitting and closing his eyes.

“Now, follow your fear. Trace it back to the beginning. What are you really afraid of, underneath it all?”

Feeling self-conscious, Lindon traced it back. He was afraid of losing Yerin.

[Ah, but is that what you're afraid of?] Dross asked. [Maybe you're really afraid that she might not be around to protect you anymore.]

Lindon searched his soul.

No, that's not it, he said.

[Well then, I'm out of ideas.]

It connected, at least as far as he understood it, to his attempted revelation earlier. He wanted to protect the people around him. He had left Sacred Valley because he was afraid of losing his family.

“I'm afraid of losing people I care about,” he said aloud, “but isn't everybody? That can't be unique to me.”

“Your motivation doesn’t have to be rare, just personal. Hm. Was your fear of loss what drove you to practice the sacred arts?” She sounded like she was imitating a wise old elder asking probing questions.

“I left home because I was afraid of losing my family.” That was at the center of his motivations. It was what had made him want to pursue the sacred arts enough to leave.

Mercy made a curious noise. “If that was all you wanted, then wouldn't you have stayed home? To be closer to them, to protect them?”

I would have if I could, he thought, but he quickly realized that wasn't true. Protecting his family was his goal, it wasn't his motivation. It was what he walked toward, not what pushed him from behind.

He'd left because, back in Sacred Valley, he was the least. The weakest.

He had wanted to escape.

So what was he afraid of now? What was his fear telling him about his family, about Yerin, about Eithan and Orthos?

That he was still weak. Powerless. That he was still the same useless Unsouled who could change nothing.

Lindon reached out with his spiritual sense, connecting to the aura around him. It was easier this time.

I fight so I won't be worthless anymore, he thought. It felt the same as the hundreds of other declarations he’d made over the last two months, spoken and unspoken, calmly or desperately or burning with quiet hope. He still wasn’t sure if his answer was correct.

But this time, the soulfire in his spirit quivered, and the aura around him shook with it. He would have never noticed if he hadn't been paying attention. At that moment, he had enough of a connection to the vital aura that all he had to do was pull...

Something slammed into him, knocking him to his back, breaking him from the trance and pushing him down. His eyes snapped open.