Yerin nodded briefly. “That’s about what I would have bet.” She followed Ziel inside.
[The Sword Sage made it out,] Dross pointed out to Lindon. [But based on his records, he must not have gone very deep. He was also weakened severely enough to be killed by Jades.]
The suppression field is gone now, Lindon said.
[For now. And how much of his weakness was the suppression versus the constant effects of being fed upon by hunger madra?]
The yawning mouth of the labyrinth was more ominous now than it had been a moment before. Mercy took a deep breath and dove in.
Where do you put our odds of survival? Lindon asked Dross.
[It’s impossible to accurately calculate odds of survival without a statistically significant number of prior examples. Under these imprecise conditions, I would say that we have better than fifty-fifty odds of making it out alive as long as we retreat before we reach the bottom.]
This isn’t cheering me up.
[Was that the goal? Then cheer up.]
The complete absence of mirth in Dross’ voice did not help Lindon’s spirits.
Eithan threw an arm around Lindon and began to walk with him into the labyrinth. “I believe we have all been appropriately cautioned against leaving this door open for too long. Even more so since the field is down, I think.”
Orthos glanced down at Eithan’s arm. “You were eager to dive into this madness. What kind of plan do you have?”
“Plan? My plan is the same as it has always been. I planned to build up a team of those who can walk into situations like this, together, and solve the problems that no one else could.” Eithan took a deep breath as they crossed the threshold into the musty air of the labyrinth, then released Lindon. “As long as we all survive this, no matter the outcome, I will consider this a successful team-building exercise.”
Lindon pulled the door shut behind them. The stone slammed into place, completing a script that suddenly flared white.
Now they were sealed in.
Little Blue burbled that she didn’t feel well, and even Orthos grunted. “I think these waters may be too deep for the two of us.”
“Nonsense!” Eithan said. “Lindon, protect them.”
Lindon had been about to open up the Dawn Sky Palace void key and hide them away when he paused. “How?”
“The same way you learned to veil them. Let your will flow along the connection of your contract, and extend it to them. Simply intending to protect them should focus the spiritual pressure of this place on you.”
Lindon did as directed, and to his surprise, found it easy. Little Blue gave a relieved whistle, and Orthos examined one of his feet as though looking for signs of damage.
“That’s amazing,” Lindon said, sincerely impressed. “How does that work?”
“You three are bound together on an existential level. In essence, the universe considers you connected. You can work your will through them almost as easily as you could through yourself.”
Lindon noted the implications of that, but the others were moving deeper into the labyrinth, so he simply nodded his thanks and moved deeper.
This room was a long hallway with rows and rows of polished wooden cupboards. All of those Lindon could see were closed and locked, but he felt nothing inside.
He still investigated a few, finding nothing useful. Some had copper rings or wooden hilts, but whatever they had once been attached to had dissolved long ago. Lindon recognized the pieces of what had once been sacred instruments; swords or spears or other devices that had rotted away.
Mercy kept her voice low, so it wouldn’t echo in the long space. “We have some records of the outer layers of the labyrinth. This looks like one of the armories where the Lord-level weapons were kept.”
Lindon’s heart clenched at the thought of what they might have found, and even Yerin gave a disappointed sigh as she pulled off one of the doors and found nothing within.
“Too bad about that field,” Yerin said in regret. “One Underlord spear would have ruled Sacred Valley for generations.”
Lindon suspected that the few good things that had made it to the Heaven’s Glory school had come from inside this place in some way. Even if they hadn’t once been hidden in these cupboards, random junk from the people who built the labyrinth would be treasures in Sacred Valley.
“We should be deep enough to try the key,” Eithan pointed out.
Lindon wasn’t quite as optimistic. “Let’s get into the next room.” He wanted at least one more layer between them and the outside world before they revealed Subject One’s hand.
He had to use his authority once again when they reached the end of the long hallway, and another door swung open to allow them to pass.
This time, the room more closely resembled what Lindon had expected of the labyrinth. They entered a huge sphere of smooth stone, with only three exits: the door they’d come from and two others.
Over the door they’d come from, a symbol of a sun was carved into the rock. The other two entrances also had a symbol above them. One was a hammer, identical to the one on the Forger badges. And the other…
Upon seeing it, Lindon’s eyes shot to Eithan. So did Yerin’s. Mercy gasped as she, too, looked to Eithan.
Only Ziel didn’t immediately spin to Eithan, because he had been the first through the doorway and had been staring at Eithan the entire time.
The symbol over the second hallway was a curved crescent and the ancient characters indicating great power, just like the Arelius family crest. But there were two key differences.
For one thing, the crescent was over the words, instead of to the side. For another, the crescent was connected to a line running down the side. Now, it didn’t look like a crescent moon at all.
It looked like the blade of a scythe.
Eithan’s brow furrowed. “How unexpected,” he said, in a tone that suggested it wasn’t unexpected at all.
Lindon looked to the silver cube he held, which was marked with the symbol of the modern House Arelius. “Eithan. Did the Arelius clan build this labyrinth?”
[Unlikely,] Dross responded. [The ancient foundation of this facility predates the founding of the Arelius line by at least several centuries.]
“That it does,” Eithan said. He drew something from his pocket and flipped it into the air so that it caught the light, which shone down from a script on the ceiling of the circular room.
It was his own marble, which contained darkness just as Suriel’s contained light. It had been passed down through generations of the Arelius family.
From Ozriel. Their founder.
“Ozmanthus Arelius, the original Patriarch of our clan, was known as the greatest Soulsmith of his day,” Eithan explained. “Perhaps in history. That was his personal crest, which was eventually adapted into the symbol of our House.”
“Did you know he’d signed his name down here?” Yerin asked.
“I had hoped we’d see something of his, though I’m surprised we came across it so soon. It’s my understanding that he left his mark on most Soulsmith relics of his era all over the world. He was a busy man.”
And Lindon knew that he’d stayed busy even after ascending, becoming the Abidan known as Ozriel. Judging by the message he’d left in Eithan’s marble, Ozriel at least seemed to be an ally to Suriel, though Lindon couldn’t be sure about their relative ranks.