Work Text:
Eithan Arelius tucked his comb into the folds of his sky-blue robe and smiled at his reflection in the mirror. Today was a big day. The big day.
Today was the day when he would test soul-promises to their very limits.
He blew a small puff of air at a stray lock that dangled in front of his face and waltzed out of the bathroom in the guest quarters of the Naru Imperial Palace. Whistling, he ambled through the hallways, following the sound of a merry orchestra; it led him through the throne room, the council room, and the small dining room before he stopped in front of a set of sturdy maple-bright doors, opened wide, with servers bustling in and out, carrying large porcelain platters with jade-green crystal domes on top.
“Eithan! You’re here!” Naru Saeya rose from her seat, beckoning him over. “Huan threatened to start without you.” She shot a dark look at her brother. “Come on, sit down.” She pulled out the chair next to her.
Eithan laid a hand on his heart, affecting a deeply wounded tone. “Start without me? But I am the cornerstone of this family, a pillar of support, a gracious—”
“Eithan, sit down.” The gruff voice came from Naru Huan, who was staring at his plate and seemed to be trying very hard not to grimace.
Eithan sniffed in mock pain, but made his way over to the chair by Naru Saeya. Which, incidentally, also happened to be the chair next to Naru Gwei. He sat down, hands in his lap, and scanned the table. Some faces were shocked; some were indifferent, most likely not recognizing him; some were merely tolerant, having heard of his exploits from others; and a singular face, immediately to his left, was absolutely, indisputably furious.
Eithan smiled his trademark smile, pearly whites flashing in a crooked line.
“What a delightful gathering!”
***
The second course had just been served, and Naru Gwei was ready to strangle the brat next to him with his bare hands.
He was ready to tolerate Eithan in the beginning. Naru Saeya had taken a strange liking to the insufferable Underlord recently—though for heaven’s sake he couldn’t understand why—so he was ready to make at least a halfhearted, conciliatory effort to welcome Eithan. Especially since he was going to be joining Saeya and Yerin in the Uncrowned tournament in a couple of months’ time.
That plan fell apart like a pile of straw in a firestorm within five seconds of Eithan sitting next to him.
He had been prepared to tuck into a delightful appetizer of deep-fried eel—delivered fresh from the Featherwind harbor near the Trackless Sea—when Eithan started peppering him with questions.
“So! Didn’t I tell you I had a strategy?” The Underlord beamed. “Now three of your Skysworn are going to be competing in the Uncrowned King tournament! You made a good, smart deal there, I’d wager.”
Naru Gwei tried to suppress his glower. “Two. And one of them isn’t even competing for Blackflame. Did you plan for that, too?”
Eithan chuckled, popping an entire piece of eel in his mouth without taking the bones out first. It somehow slid down his throat without choking him to death, that little bastard. “That…wasn’t entirely planned on my part. But it wasn’t really surprising! You see, Lindon left an Akura to die in Ghostwater…”
This time, Naru Gwei actually did choke on his food. “He what?”
“You know, Akura Harmony. Mercy’s cousin?” Eithan elaborated, stopping just short of wiggling his eyebrows.
Naru Gwei shook his head, still processing the information. Lindon left an Akura to die? Not only was it terribly out of character for him, it was undeniably a dangerous move, politically. He could’ve brought the wrath of the Akura clan down on the Empire.
He could’ve gotten everyone sitting in this banquet hall here killed.
He would expect nothing less from Eithan’s student.
“Wow.” Eithan sighed. “You are woefully underinformed, for the leader of the Skysworn. What would you do without me?”
“Live a long, happy, peaceful life,” Naru Gwei gritted out between clenched teeth.
Eithan seemed to think about it briefly before nodding. “That’s fair. I can see that. But is peace really worth it when you could have the distinct pleasure of my acquaintance?” He said the last part with a flourish of his hand, scooping up one of the uneaten pieces of eel on Naru Gwei’s plate.
It took clenching every single muscle in his body for Naru Gwei to refrain from physically hitting Eithan.
“Anyways, it still would’ve worked out, either way,” Eithan continued, talking while chewing, either oblivious or indifferent to Naru Gwei’s barely-contained volcano of violence. “Saeya here is a perfect candidate!” He elbowed Naru Saeya, who blushed and looked down at her own plate, her stature smaller without her emerald wings fanned out behind her.
“…Since when were you on a first-name basis with my cousin?” Naru Gwei asked suspiciously.
“Since the Sage of the Silver Heart took us aside in a pocket-shadow-realm and threatened us to perform well in the tournament, of course,” Eithan replied cheerily. Naru Gwei’s face paled at the mention of the Sage. It reminded him of just how much was at stake here: just how much he and his family stood to gain—or lose.
“Ugh. Don’t bring her up again, Eithan,” Naru Saeya picked at her food and shivered. “I still get nightmares about them sometimes. Her and her creepy owl.”
“You know, she’s not even the worst of the Sages.” Eithan continued to devour his food; the eel had been replaced by small biscuits stuffed with some kind of fragrant, baked fruit, topped with a honey glaze. “It’s a good thing you haven’t met the Blood Sage yet. I think he’d give you daymares.”
“Daymares?” The two Narus asked in unison.
“Daymares!” Eithan exclaimed. “Nightmares during the day. Daydream nightmares. Daymares.
Naru Saeya rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that’s a word, Eithan.”
Naru Gwei just looked even more furious. How was this inane blockhead representing their entire empire for the biggest sacred arts tournament in the whole world?
“It most definitely is a word!” Eithan huffed. “I made it. So it’s a word now. Just ask Yerin—she never questioned it.”
“She’s not here,” Naru Saeya said. “And besides, she listens to everything you say. Even if she doesn’t look like it. She’d probably follow you out of this world if you wanted her to.”
“And she doesn’t know how to read,” Naru Gwei added, though they both ignored him. His own cousin…traitor.
A server scurried over and set an enormous plate down on the table, lifting the dome. Naru Gwei didn’t even know that they had such large plates; the Emperor really pulled out all the stops today. A crispy, sizzling duck sat on the pure white porcelain, aromatic spices and hints of roasted fruit wafting from the dish.
“Ooh, roast duck!” Naru Saeya clapped her hands with delight.
Eithan beamed. “I let the chef borrow my special recipe,” he whispered to her, though loud enough for Naru Gwei to hear. “It was handed down through my family for generations. We cherish it as much as we cherish our bloodline.”
Since when had she been so…excitable? Naru Gwei stared, trying to comprehend her change in behavior. His cousin had never been aloof like some of the other Underlords could be, but she could never have been considered bubbly.
Or happy, really. His mind tacked on that last unwelcome thought. What was happiness? When was the last time anyone helping to run this godforsaken Empire was happy? They all dealt with one crisis after another, misfortunes piling on like heavy snow on a rotting foundation of a house, always threatening to break their delicate position into unsalvageable splinters. Naru Huan had the worst of it, of course, but that didn’t mean that the rest of them had it easy; it wasn’t a coincidence that smiles were seldom found in those confidential meetings.
But recently, it was like Naru Saeya had blossomed into a happier version of herself. When he passed her in the hallways, half of the time, she could be found smiling—a drastic change from before. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he had a suspicion of who was behind this.
At least the good-for-nothing was…well, good for something. Him and his “student”, the Underlady who was most definitely a Redmoon emissary but claimed not to be, had somehow made Naru Saeya glow with happiness. Perhaps it was the novelty of friendship; it wasn’t easy to make friends, real friends, when you were the Emperor’s sister.
Even if he couldn’t understand, he would try to let Saeya keep her happiness. For however long it could last, anyways. He had no doubt that Naru Huan was still strong, but he wasn’t so young anymore: once Saeya advanced to Overlord, she would have to prepare for the duties of the throne. That, if nothing else, would dampen her happiness considerably.
But burn him with Blackflame if it wasn’t going to hurt his soul to sit next to Eithan Arelius for an entire dinner.
***
Already, Eithan’s core felt uncomfortably tight, as if a string was being pulled taut across his soul, mere hairbreadths away from cutting into it. He smiled.
…I swear on my soul…
…I will personally spend no more time in your presence than required…
Eithan bit into a piece of char-siu, delightfully juicy and flavorful.
This is required! He protested lightheartedly. My body requires nourishment, and my mind requires stimulus. How could you deprive me of life’s most basic pleasures?
He received no response except for the gradual tightening of the string around his soul, twisting into itself with every bite he took. He cheerfully ignored it and listened to Naru Saeya’s story instead.
“…And so two more of their Underlords came at me, throwing these weighted silks, trying to catch me with fishing lines,” she recounted, a rapt audience listening to her battle-story from Nightwheel Valley. “I didn’t even let them graze my wings before I choked them off with wind madra and dropped them to the ground,” she finished triumphantly.
Eithan made a small hum of appreciation in his throat. One of the things he liked about Naru Saeya was her adaptability; and, whether she liked to show it or not, her vulnerability. She could act all tough in front of this crowd, but Eithan knew what had happened to those two Underlords she was talking about. They’d fallen to the ground, yes, but only unconscious, not dead. During the entirety of the battle in Nightwheel Valley, he had yet to see her kill anyone. That was one of the advantages of her path, and a similarity that his path shared: they didn’t have to be lethal to be effective and dangerous. They didn’t have to take from somewhere, someone, in order to build up.
His thoughts strayed to his Monarch, and he quickly pulled them back, shaking his head clear of the cobwebs of grief that still stuck around, stubborn and unforgiving. It’s over now. Focus on the future. There’s more at stake than the life of one Monarch.
If he saw the situation correctly—and he believed he did—they were fighting for the existence of their very continent, of their species. The Dragon King didn’t much like humans, and Lindon hadn’t garnered them any favors when he’d killed Ekerinatoth, the little sister of Sopharanatoth, who was sure to be competing in the tournament. Lindon…a Lowgold, killing a Truegold. He couldn’t help but be proud of how far Lindon had come.
Too bad Lindon wasn’t going to be competing with them; Eithan might’ve been able to hoist him and Yerin up to Overlord during the tournament—with himself, of course—if given the resources. But then again, Lindon would receive the best of what the Akura clan had to offer. That would have to be enough.
Yerin, on the other hand, was still sulking. She barely did anything beyond cycling and training, though she sometimes disappeared into her room for an hour or so, claiming fatigue; Eithan knew that she was talking to Lindon through a construct, but he didn’t call attention to it. Everyone needed their privacy sometimes.
He only wished that Yerin hadn’t skipped out on the banquet today. What he wouldn’t give to see her face when Naru Gwei turned purplish-red with suppressed anger…she would’ve probably overturned the tables by laughing.
He also wanted to see her eat slices of grilled hapuku fish with her Goldsign, but that was beside the point.
He almost didn’t remember the string around his soul until it tightened to the point of intense pain. Naru Saeya was looking at him, concern evident on her face: his face was no longer smiling, and his lips were flat with pain, the pressure constricting his core and lungs. The dining hall hushed as his face turned redder and redder, his breath coming in quick gasps of pain, pain, and more pain. He could feel fingernail-thin lines spreading on the surface of his core, so terribly close to cracking.
He couldn’t remember why he’d ever thought this was a good idea.
Not that he was given the chance to think about anything, really, before he passed out.
***
Eithan woke up feeling like he had sprinted to Serpent’s Grave and back after downing one-too-many bottles of Blackflame Gin. His head was pounding, and he hadn’t felt this much strain on his soul since he’d first started practicing the Heaven and Earth Purification Wheel cycling technique. It felt like he’d pushed his core through a meat tenderizer.
He dragged his hands down his face and sighed.
Turns out not even he could toe the line of a soul-promise safely.
The door opened, and Naru Saeya rushed into his room, holding a wet towel and a vial of bluish elixir.
“You idiot!” She plunked the elixir on the bedside table and threw the towel unceremoniously at Eithan. “You could’ve gotten yourself crippled for life! What’d you do that for?”
“You wanted me to come to the banquet…” Eithan half-mumbled, still aching. He picked up the towel and rubbed it against his forehead. It felt nice and cool, but his pride was still wounded.
“Well, I know for a fact that the seating arrangements weren’t like that! Stop meddling with things you can’t control,” she said the last part in a sort-of plea, eyes wide with fear and frustration in equal measure.
You don’t know the half of what I meddle with, do you? He chuckled internally, but outwardly, he pouted. “It was just for fun. I didn’t think that it would be that serious if the soul-promise itself wasn’t that serious.”
“You’re never serious about anything,” Naru Saeya retorted, crossing her arms over her chest, but her simmering anger quieted when Eithan didn’t throw a halfhearted joke in her direction. Her voice softened. “Just…be more careful, will you? There’s no use tempting fate.”
This time, Eithan did smile. “Isn’t that the fun of it?”