Cradlefic: Bloodmaker — Chapter 7
First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Full work on AO3
The cloud fortress of Redmoon Hall hung heavy in the air, a towering presence looming over the sand and sun-blasted rock of the Wastelands. History said that the area was once a prosperous land, before the war between Rune Queen Emala and the Blackflame Dragons, but that was long ago. Now, the landscape was bleak and dead, but not empty.
Down, below Lindon and Shoumei's own thousand mile cloud, little huts and camps dotted the landscape, forming a giant ring only visible from the sky, the Bleeding Phoenix at it's heart. When the Dreadgod was awake, it distributed fragments of itself wherever it traveled—parasites that latched onto a host and took it over, consuming it body and spirit, before moving on to the next victim, and eventually returning to the Dreadgod. It was a method that allowed it to feast continually, even during it's slumber. At least, that was its goal.
Nine times out of ten, the prospective hosts would fall to the Blood Shadow, but those that didn't, whether through luck, preparedness, or sheer willpower, became stronger for it—masters of a fragment of a Dreadgod and owners of a shortcut to power. Many of them chose to live down below in camps like these, rather than up in the Cloud Fortress. From their camps, they would capture returning Blood Shadows, bloated on stolen stolen power, and consume them before they could reach the Phoenix.
It was a popular practice among members of Redmoon Hall, and it wasn't hard to understand why. Easy advancement resources hand delivered to your doorstep, for the cost of a life spent in the Wastelands and a path of passivity. Lindon preferred to be more proactive about his advancement. Once he had been permitted to leave the cloud fortress that is.
Redmoon Hall had been as much a prison as it was a sanctuary for him those first two years after his arrival. On his journey southward, Lindon had quickly learned that, as far as most civilized places were concerned, there were only two sorts of people that possessed a Blood Shadow: those who had been taken over, and those who were out hunting for blood—neither tended to be allowed to live. He'd been forced to keep to the wild places in order to survive, and each brush with humanity had been a brush with death. The Hall became the first place he felt safe since he left home.
Red Faith had… not quite taken him in from the moment he arrived, so much as he had taken him over. Lindon had received a crash course in the Sage's theories of Blood Shadow development while subjected to countless tests and examinations. His Blood Shadow had been purged of the bestial essence it had consumed during their travels and Lindon had been banned from leaving the cloudship.
It had been a miracle that Lindon survived to reach Redmoon Hall as a Jade, even with his Blood Shadow bridging the gap and letting him fight above his advancement, and Red Faith wasn't about to have his promising new experiment get killed on the street by a random passerby. So his safe haven had turned into a cage, one with less than pleasant cellmates.
While the bulk of Redmoon Hall lived outside of the cloud fortress, either capturing Blood Shadows, hunting blood essence, or in the case of the Emissaries that worshipped the Phoenix, tending to the Dreadgod, that did not mean no one lived aboard the sect headquarters. What it did mean was that those who remained were the ones that wanted something, usually the insight of either the Sage or the Herald, and they didn't appreciate the attention Lindon was receiving instead of them.
The tests and examinations were a far cry from the personal training that people thought he was being given, but that hadn't ever stopped whispers, or the taunts, or misplaced elbows and feet. All it stopped was the daggers in the night. No one wanted to be the one that took away the Sage's favorite lab rat after all.
Lindon shook himself free of the memories as he and Shoumei drew closer to the fortress. Thick, imposing black stone walls stood high above a blood red cloud, thematic as always. He wondered if the sect had paid extra for the color however many centuries ago they had created it, or if it had just been stained red by the years of proximity to blood aura.
Shoumei directed their cloud down into one of the open courtyards. The wide clear space was brimming with people milling about in groups, discussing the summons, the Phoenix's restlessness, the Battle of the Heavens, or any other number of things. Most of them were accompanied by Blood Shadows taking the form of weapons, beasts, unnerving pseudo-clones, or geometric shapes, though some of them were the Shadowless. For every full member of the sect there were about three that didn't possess a Blood Shadow. Many were simply family of full members, some were criminals, trading safety for service, and some were hopefuls, preparing themselves to attempt bonding with a Blood Shadow. As a group, they tended to stay out of sight, administering to the fundamental needs of the sect: food, water, cleaning, maintenance. Shoumei handed off their thousand mile cloud to one of them when they landed. It would be taken and stored in the stables alongside the many other clouds, flying mounts, and other methods of transportation people had used to obey the summons.
The mass of humanity and blood madra is probably why Lindon didn't sense anyone coming up behind them until their whisper-quiet voice hit his ears.
"The prodigy. Still a Truegold? How the rising star has fallen."
Lindon turned around with grimace.
"Brother Longhook, I see the advancement to Underlord did not repair your voice, how unfortunate."
Longhook hissed in anger and his namesake weapon dropped down from his sleeve, the blood red meat-hook gleaming menacingly.
While the attention Lindon had received from the Blood Sage as a teenager had frustrated many, Longhook was the worst by far. Prior to Lindon's arrival it had been he who people viewed as the "rising star" of the sect, and despite the relatively benign appearance of his blood shadow coating his weapon, Lindon knew his mastery of the Shadow Clone technique was beyond anyone except Red Faith himself. Even the Fate Readers of the Sect had acknowledged his power, raising him up as having the potential to become their second Sage. He was not an enemy to be taunted lightly.
Not that it stopped Lindon. Longhook was right, his advancement had been stopped at Truegold for over a year now, but that just meant he had some frustration to vent. The two of them stared at each other as their madra slowly began to cycle, each of them testing to see if the other would back down. Lindon didn't know if he could beat an Underlord in a straight fight just yet, but a challenging battle against an enemy he could go all out against sounded like exactly the sort of stress relief he needed right now.
Other sect members began to pack themselves towards the outsides of the courtyard. No one wanted to be in the crossfire, but no one wanted to miss the show either. Longhook's path shined brightest at a distance, while Lindon excelled in close quarters combat. He cycled his enforcer technique, preparing to leap at a moments notice, when a voice called from within the fortress.
"Enough."
Lindon and Longhook both froze, body and spirit holding still at the command of a Sage. Red Faith emerged into the courtyard and Lindon would have sighed if he could breathe. Interference like this was exactly the sort of special treatment that riled up the others.
The pressure holding him still released suddenly, though Longhook remained frozen.
"Lindon. Attend to me" Red Faith called, and then he vanished back into the depths of the cloudship as quickly as he had arrived.
This time Lindon did sigh, before he began to follow after. He looked back to give an apologetic shrug to Shoumei and a rude gesture to Longhook, and then ducked into the dimly lit passageways of Redmoon Hall. The Sage was already out of sight by the time Lindon entered, but the way to his workshop was something Lindon had become intimately familiar with over the years, even if it had been a year and a half since his last check in with the Sage.
Red Faith was waiting, perched on the edge of one of the tables and absently chewing at his thumb, when he reached the laboratory. Lindon was certain the man used blood madra to regenerate his hangnails just so he could continue to bite at them. Red Faith waved with his free hand and Lindon stepped into a piece of equipment he had become closely acquainted over the years.
Constructs and instruments immediately came to life around his body, poking, prodding, and measuring any number of things that Red Faith found interesting while dream constructs fluttered around the Sage's head, automatically feeding him the data even as it was recorded. He didn't say another word until the tests had finished.
"Blood Shadow. Now."
Lindon complied, and his shadow unfurled from his spirit to rest in the air. It's shape remained as it had when they first met, only far denser and larger now, an amorphous mass of red liquid, ever shifting, ever reaching and falling back in on itself, To Lindon's spiritual perception, it felt like... potential. Potential and Hunger. It wanted to be more than this, it wanted to get stronger. Ever since they had arrived at the Hall together, Lindon had denied it, refusing to let it feed itself, granting only power and essence that he had purified himself. Its frustration flowed clearly through the connection between them.
Lindon could sympathize, he felt the same after all, and that was exactly the reason he had denied it. As intimidating and powerful as Shoumei's Crusher was, or even Longhooks Shadow Clone, Lindon wanted more. He wanted the promise that Red Faith had dangled in front of him all these years, the perfection of Red Faith's own methods, the True Shadow, a Blood Shadow that was a perfect copy of himself, a promise that was out of his reach until Underlord. Underlord, which Red Faith had forbidden him from advancing to when they last spoke.
Lindon and his shadow both shuddered as the weight of a Sage's spiritual perception ran through them, and he found himself holding his breath, hoping that he had at last met whatever standard of the Sage that he had been failing to reach.
Red Faith grunted at whatever he had seen and then spoke at last.
"What do you know of the facility known as Ghostwater?"
The question caught Lindon off guard completely.
"Nothing honored Sage."
Red Faith spat out a piece of bloody skin and turned to address Lindon directly.
"It is a research facility in the Trackless Sea, created by the Monarch, Northstrider, and abandoned now for some decades. In the aftermath of its closure, my counterpart and several other Heralds retrieved that which could be of use to them and came to an agreement, that promising Truegold students would be permitted entrance once every ten years to gather what strength they might from its depths. The gates open in three weeks, you will enter as our candidate."
Lindon's mind raced, both at the mention of the Sacred Artist shown to him by Suriel and at the implications of Red Faith's statement.
"Is this why I was not allowed to advanced to Underlord?" He asked, unable to prevent the question from escaping his lips.
"Of course. Why else would I have given you such an instruction?"
Lindon hesitated, "I had thought perhaps there was some failing in my advancement or path that you were waiting for me to correct."
Red Faith stared at him blankly before responding.
"If you had failed, I would not have bothered to give you any further instruction. I would have left you to your devices and turned my research elsewhere. You remain the most promising avenue of study at present, and Ghostwater will only compound this."
"And Redmoon will allow me this honor?" Lindon asked.
Red Faith dismissed the question with a wave. "My lesser half has long since grown tired of this responsibility and left its execution to me. There will be no objections. Now come, it will take some time to travel to the facilities location, we must depart immediately."
With that, the Sage departed the room, leaving Lindon scrambling to follow, his Blood Shadow flowing back into his spirit as he ran. Lindon's mind was still reeling from Red Faith's revelation, but that was not the only thing running through his thoughts. The messenger construct had not been delivered to him alone, but to the entirety of the sect. This was not the only reason they had been recalled, and he needed to know what would become of Shoumei while he was gone. While he was certain she could take care of herself as an Underlady, that didn't make like the idea of her staying in the serpents den while Red Faith's restraining presence was absent and Redmoon held control.
He caught up with the Sage after a moment an relayed his question, and the Sage answered as they walked.
"The Monarch factions are soon to call for the holding of a Tournament of the Uncrowned King, Reigan Shen has approached the four Dreadgod cults and offered sponsorship in the tournament in exchange for an alliance. Redmoon will be holding a tournament of his own to select his representatives."
Lindon's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. The Uncrowned King Tournament was legendary. Those that competed were considered the best of the best, and that was just when they started. The rewards they had the opportunity to claim were often path defining. Nearly every sacred artist that reached the top eight had gone on to become a Sage, Herald, or even Monarch in the case of Reigan Shen. Dread artists had never before been given a chance to compete. The treasures of a Monarch's facility were one thing, but the place would be long since picked over by the time Lindon arrived and would certainly pale in comparison with the boons from the Tournament.
"Apologies Honored Sage, but might we be able to delay our departure so that I might participate in the tournament?"
Red Faith sneered. "My counterpart is a fool who is wasting resources and time. We will not be doing the same. I have read the currents of Fate and the outcome of the tournament is clear and therefore its existence is unnecessary. Our representatives shall be Yan Shoumei, Longhook, and yourself. I have permitted Redmoon to proceed with his farcical waste of time under the understanding that should you perish in Ghostwater or otherwise fail to qualify for the Uncrowned King Tournament, he may handpick your replacement himself."
They arrived at a docking area for other, smaller cloudships as Red Faith spoke. Shadowless scrambled in and out of the small single story building on the cloud, making final preparations for their departure. Lindon followed the Sage inside and dropped his pack on the floor. It was frustrating that he would not be able to let Shoumei know where he was going, but he could not deny the exhilaration he felt that he would be advancing once more.
Red Faith handed him a bag and gestured at one of the rooms.
"Dream tablets, containing my notes regarding the development of the True Shadow and my theories as to the source of Redmoon's deficiencies, as well as memories from a visit to Ghostwater from before its abandonment. Review and study these and then return to me. It will take most of our three weeks to fly to the island containing the pocket dimension, and we have much to discuss to prepare you. Begin."
Redmoon Hall and on to Ghostwater! And look a ripple! Without the Phoenix waking early due to Makiel's influence, a certain Emissary didn't get himself killed by Eithan. This is fine I'm sure. Let me know what you think.
First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Full work on AO3