Deadgold: Chapters 10-11

With this set of chapters, we reach another inflection point in an arc that has been running throughout the series. Typically a main character should recover from setbacks within a chapter or two, if the author makes the foolish mistake of including setbacks at all, and should be infinitely more powerful by next book if not sooner. TWC may be a niche series, but I'm glad there are some people who appreciate the long-running rebuilding process and hope you enjoy this culmination.

-

Chapter 10

At long last, it was time for Friend Nauda to join them. Fiyu had never once thought less of her dear companion for the damage suffered by her soulhome, but she knew that it weighed heavily on the other woman. Even as her soulhome was rebuilt and she gained strength, even when she saved them in the battle of Nlukoko, Friend Nauda had retained an echo of that failure.

Today, she would shed that legacy in glorious ascension.

They had all gathered together, for support and just in case Friend Nauda required defending. But truthfully, here within the Blacksilver complex where they had shared so much together, Fiyu could not believe that they would see anything but success.

"You will do well, Nauda," Fiyu said encouragingly, patting the other woman's arm. To her surprise, Friend Nauda gripped her arm back and held her close.

It was always unclear what to do in such cases, at once wonderful and too warm. Fortunately, Friend Nauda pulled in Friend Theo as well, then gestured them both into her soulhome.

"I have a new plan," Friend Nauda said, with a bit of a playful smile. "I haven't just been playing catch-up and waiting for you to help me, I've also been studying a new aspect of sublime agriculture. I started talking to Homez, then I ended up consulting a lot of experts. I'm adding one more wrinkle to this ascension."

"What is it?" Friend Theo looked around the garden eagerly, while Fiyu simply hovered her spirit near Friend Nauda. In response she walked inward, coming to the very central garden where a large flower grew.

Though the structure was very familiar, the size and density of the plant gave Fiyu pause. It certainly seemed like the crestflowers that had grown around the Asplundat mountain, but none of them had been this massive or formidable.

"I know these are usually used for the ceremony," Friend Nauda explained, "but I think they have other potentials that haven't been explored. This one in particular has changed since it entered my soulhome, and now I want to try something."

"Will the ascension help the new crestflower grow?" Fiyu asked. "I know sublime plants are meant to help stabilize the soulhome, or absorb spiritual rain, but can they do even more?"

"I think so, but in this case what I want to do is transform it into something new. Under normal circumstances, it's very difficult to change the nature of a sublime plant, requiring raising multiple generations and tending them carefully."

"I read something about that," Friend Theo said. "It sounded complicated enough that I decided to master my anvils first."

"Well, I think we can pull this off. Together." Friend Nauda carefully extracted a seed from the center of the flower, and it was revealed to be proportionally larger as well. In this size, the internal intricacies were even more obvious to Fiyu's senses, able to absorb far more cantae. "I want the three of us to infuse this one together."

Fiyu let out a breath and her face softened into a smile. When Friend Nauda glanced toward her, a little uncertain, Fiyu nodded eagerly. This was no formal ritual, instead something that they built together among themselves.

It was also a huge relief, because Fiyu had been noticing and trying to forget a certain stiffness in Friend Nauda's muscles, as if something was troubling her. Whenever that happened and she couldn't find a solution, she feared that something would emerge to stand in the way of their relationship. But now it was clear that Friend Nauda had always been planning this symbol of their value to one another.

Friend Theo was present as well, but it was entirely appropriate for such a close companion to be with them. In other cultures she had toured while younger, Fiyu knew that relationships even needed a traveling companion to formally approve. This was not the same thing, but she still felt as though Friend Theo was affirming the relationship as well as as the friendship all three of them shared.

"That's an interesting idea, but I wonder if the seed can handle the cantae." Of course Friend Theo was thinking along more formal lines, pondering the triangular seed in his own way. "I assume you want this to be something more than a symbol."

"Obviously don't blow it apart," Friend Nauda said. "But I think it will hold more than you think. Even if it can't hold long term, it should absorb the cantae during the ascension, and then... well, I guess we'll find out."

Since he was less convinced, Friend Theo attempted it first, infusing his cantae into only a third of the crestflower seed - simple enough, since the interior had a tripartite structure. For her part, Fiyu didn't doubt at all. When Friend Nauda extended the seed to her, Fiyu eagerly poured in her own cantae, only wishing that their hands could touch here.

Then Friend Nauda infused the last third, and just as Fiyu had known, their cantae coexisted peacefully. With that done, they needed to leave, and Fiyu barely caught a glimpse of her companion planting the seed in the center of the garden before she was swept out of the soulhome.

The ascension would begin soon, and in this, Friend Nauda was alone.

~

Setting up the crestflower had given her a real boost in confidence, especially when Theo had given her an approving nod. Now that she walked up the side of her pyramid, however, Nauda wasn't nearly so confident.

This was a key moment for her, and in theory it should have been so much easier than her Authority ascension done under duress. There was no time limit and she had allies defending her. Yet as she walked skyward, she couldn't help but imagine a second catastrophe, one that would leave her soulhome in even worse condition...

She forced herself to look back and feel the seed pulsing in her garden. No, she wouldn't allow doubt to enter.

When Nauda began pressing against the sky, she immediately felt the pressure descend on her, but she was surprised how well she could resist it. Her will had been forged in so many trials, just this wouldn't stop her. Of course, she needed to do more than simply reach the top of the pyramid.

As she got most of the way up, the rain began. It struck her skin like cantae bolts, but she was already familiar with it from her previous ascension and her plan was actually to use the rain to her advantage. She stopped climbing and looked back, watching as the rain cascaded over her soulhome.

All of her rooftops had slanted stone to redirect the water, and she had even put together a few temporary gutters to prevent the water from crashing through her gardens. But plenty of the water did flow together in the very center of her soulhome, a rush of the very essence of ascension threatening to flood her garden.

But the only thing she'd left there was her new crestflower seed, which burned defiantly.

One of the low garden walls she'd built to guide the water to the center broke, letting water rush through her soulhome. Nauda grimaced and made her way back down the side of the pyramid. Once she reached the bottom she extended her hand, struggling through the rising pressure in her soul to trace a ward through the air.

It took more willpower than expected, but she managed to nudge the wall back into place and fuse it there. That would last until the ascension was over, ensuring that all the water went to the correct place. Since she didn't see any other major flaws, Nauda turned back and began to ascend the pyramid again.

The water was just the first step, and the one she had been able to confirm with many experts. What really worried her was the earthquake.

As soon as she reached a certain point, one she didn't exactly know, she would trigger the unique aspect of this ascension. The power would ripple through her soulhome, making the very foundation of her soul tremble and thus testing everything she had built up to that point. Opening up new potential for a basement... or potentially destroying her.

That was the trial that had made it so difficult to sleep the previous night. No amount of willpower could shield her through this, because her soulcrafting alone would be tested. All she could do was continue upward and hope that she endured.

When it finally happened, Nauda staggered forward, catching herself against the pyramid. She felt the power ripple through her soulhome, making stone grind terribly, but she didn't hear any cracks. Nauda held her breath and, despite the futility, still extended her willpower throughout the entire soulhome, demanding that her work hold together.

Eventually the earthquake passed and, almost to her shock, nothing was out of place. She had come this far and the heavens themselves hadn't been able to destroy what she built.

In that case, all that remained was to finish climbing the pyramid and break through. What did that entail, pain and pressure? Nauda smiled and began to stride upward.

~

During the early stages of the ascension, Theo watched with more anxiety than he wanted to admit. Even though he had gone over every detail of the blueprint with Nauda, and he trusted her soulcrafting ability, this was still a brutal test that had destroyed many promising soulcrafters.

But she had learned her lessons well, having rebuilt a soulhome far stronger than her original design. He wasn't sure if she noticed, but the old stone that had been fused into her foundation even helped resist the earthquake, stabilizing the shaking. Her entire soulhome was linked and solid in a way that few were, a trait that had made her struggle in the past but now worked in her favor.

Once she survived the earthquake, it was essentially over. Theo still watched her ascend to the sky, but he knew the result: Nauda had stamina and willpower to spare, so this was practically a formality.

Even as she strained into the heavens, Theo was imagining the future. He hadn't mentioned it, not wanting to distract her from the ascension, but Stronghold was the tier where her blueprint would finally have fully recovered. She had rebuilt everything damaged and restored it via one ascension, now her new blueprint finally came together and began showing the promise they had planned out in a Blacksilver room years ago.

The shockwave of her ascension rippled out of the courtyard, and all around the city other Houses realized with shock that Blacksilver had another Stronghold, while Theo only smiled. Of course they did.

When Nauda opened her eyes, she sprang to her feet, seeming to burst with energy. Her soulhome was so physically inclined, he could only imagine how it felt.

"You did it, Nauda." Fiyu approached her with a smile, then gasped as Nauda lifted her into the air in a fierce hug.

"Thanks to you." Nauda suddenly came to her senses and, though she didn't stop grinning, she set Fiyu down with a bit of embarrassment. "Both of you. I could never have made it this far without your help."

"We could not have made it here without you," Fiyu said, only a little flustered. "This is what companions do."

"But still, I need to thank you."

The two of them might get trapped in a loop of apologies, so Theo stepped closer and gripped Nauda's wrist warmly. She gripped back, actually testing his strength, and for a moment they just grinned at one another.

"It's only payoff from here," Theo pointed out. "As you build your next floors, you'll represent all sorts of important organs like the heart and brain. Even the shoulders are important, because you can truly model your soulhome's arms. With every floor, your design looks less like madness and more like genius."

"I know." Nauda shook her head in disbelief. "So many people told me it was absurd, dedicating four entire floors to foundations, but now..."

"This is the kind of design we need to fight enemies like Plutalgion. Maybe we can't go up against him ourselves, not yet, but we're on our way."

Nauda grinned and pulled her gauntlet from her soulhome, clenching the armament with a glow of new power. "What are we waiting for?"

-

Chapter 11

As it turned out, what they were waiting for was the connection between diplomats of House Blacksilver and the Gold Wastes. Theo had been neglecting that task, but they had been speaking in the background, moving closer to a formal invitation, and he decided that was their best bet.

It just meant they were ahead of schedule for once, and he didn't mind having the extra time. He had more soulcrafting work to do, and every day Nauda had at Stronghold built toward making her even more formidable. The only thing he didn't manage to do was consult with Fiyu about her new plans, as the two of them were spending a lot of time together.

Instead, he found himself frequently spending time with Navim. That day, Theo marched in with the newest map he'd managed to acquire from Blacksilver allies and triumphantly smoothed it across the table.

"This is the best map of Fithe I've been able to acquire," he explained as Navim bent to examine it. "Ignore the Norron continent, as it's low on detail. But I've been assured by several sources that this is accurate for representing Tymetron, the Gold Wastes, and other bodies of land north of us."

"Do you know what projection this map uses?" Navim inquired.

That was a bit trickier, because soul translation struggled with such details: there might be similarities between map projections from Earth and those used on Fithe, but they weren't identical and Theo didn't have time to relearn the discipline of cartography.

"What I can tell you," Theo answered, "is that the projection accurately represents land mass. It's actually difficult to find maps that preserve the oceanic lines, because dust Fithans don't have very much oversea trade. Some undersea cities have maps that represent the oceans accurately, but they're actually not as useful for navigation."

"Though I don't think that's your interest." Navim settled back, regarding the map from another angle. "What's interesting to me is that the Gold Wastes are larger than I had anticipated."

"Yes, it's technically an island, but people have a false sense of islands as relatively small." It made him think of Australia, though it would be obnoxious to throw that name at anyone from the Nine Worlds.

"Some make that category error, but not all. Of course, the Gold Wastes are dwarfed by Tymetron."

"Empires like that shouldn't be underestimated. It used to have multiple regions as large as the Ruling Cities or Asplundat Movement, before Plutalgion forged them all into one empire."

"This will be useful, thank you." Navim rolled up the map carefully with his more delicate limbs. "I have continued consulting with scholarly groups, including cartographers, and may be able to trade in information. Aside from publishing a monograph, this will have some leverage with more mercenary organizations."

"How much do they know?" Theo asked.

"Well, they are certainly not the Orphic Cabal, which can effortlessly acquire information like this. But Arbaians and other outsiders are unconcerned with the great Fithan split between land and sea, and by coordinating information from both sides, they can synthesize information that surpasses either. Actually, sit down, as I have some useful results for you."

Theo was glad to sit, though they didn't speak immediately. Instead he passed into his soulhome, walking down into his basement to continue his work: Theo picked up a Fithan stone and placed it on his mass anvil, then began imparting more gravitational force, hammer blow by hammer blow.

This material wasn't strong enough to be useful to one of his friends, but he could produce sublime stones with a great deal of inertia that could boost younger soulcrafters. It was an easy way to keep Blacksilver happy, and he didn't mind because he still needed training in modifying sublime materials.

While he worked, Navim cleared his table and began working on an armament: apparently a blade of Fithan metal, so likely a similar agreement with the House. Their work was just a background activity, a way to keep their hands busy while they conversed, so once they had both developed a rhythm, Navim spoke up again.

"One of the reasons I was interested to see the size of the Gold Wastes was that I acquired information that, though not comprehensive, is likely a good approximation of their military strength. It is said that the island has one aeon-class soulcrafter, Giatrice, and three Dominions."

"Interesting." Theo considered that, briefly pausing between hammer swings. "So their soulcrafters are only roughly equal to Norron, with the exception of Giatrice."

"Though their area and population are smaller, so the higher average tier is likely a good measure of how much stronger their average sublime materials are."

"Are those two perfectly correlated, across all Nine Worlds? I know it makes sense that they'd be connected, but I don't think that average soulcrafter tier is an exact function of sublime materials."

"It seems to me that, though the subject might be interesting, it would blunder into a great many broader discussions of culture and determinism." Navim finished treating the sword he was working on and began etching patterns into the side with what appeared to be a tiny cantae laser. "Enjoyable as that might be, I think it might be prudent to stick with practical consequences for now."

"You're probably right. The takeaway I see, based on both area and armies, is that the Gold Wastes could use our alliance. Tymetron could overwhelm them, if it brought its full military might to bear. Even an aeon-class soulcrafter can't overcome a massive number of Dominions."

"Of course, Tymetron has more enemies, as empires always do. I could not help but note that there is another land mass to its west, one that must have held off the empire. Based on the latitudinal markings, there are likely no land masses further north of Tymetron, but they could still have undersea rivals."

"Yeah." Theo finished hammering one stone and tossed it aside into a pile. "I've been thinking about that too. It's tempting to jump across the world to try to unite all of Tymetron's enemies, but I think we can't afford that: too many unknowns, too many complications. We need to let those other enemies work passively and focus on those where we've already built a partial alliance, like the Gold Wastes."

"No word from them?"

"Not yet, but the diplomats should arrange a meeting soon." Theo briefly paused as he picked up another sublime stone. "I trust our Fithan allies to handle that, but I do think they'll overlook the depths Fithans. The nearby undersea cities have an alliance with the Gold Wastes, I think I mentioned that. We need to connect with more of them, but I'm not sure where to start."

"Actually, I have information about that as well." Navim set aside his work to extend a limb across the room, drawing a message slate from the wall and sliding it across the table.

Theo had to leave his basement work in order to take the physical object, so tried to hold his spirit mentally at the anvil while his body looked the slate over. It seemed to be an etching of undersea cities - only a representation, not a true map - that included some extensive notes on soulcrafting strength. All of it was in Navim's shorthand, which wasn't soul translated but Theo could partially figure out.

"I have long pondered the fundamental structure of depths Fithan cultures," Navim explained, "and though I have many interests, regrettably only the military aspects are germane to the present situation. Specifically, I wondered how their cities, separated as they are by so much ocean, interact with one another."

"I understand there's low level warfare just like on the surface," Theo said, "it's just more formalized. Not a lot of total war, because it would destroy anything the victors hoped to gain."

"That is true in the abstract, but I always wondered how that balanced with larger outside threats. If each city stood alone, they would be crushed by larger armies from surface nations. Surely the environment or prejudice from dust Fithans alone cannot protect them. Indeed, I have discovered that instead of rigid national borders, they have more flexible alliances between cities."

"Those cities look a little more concentrated than on land, but they're not so different." Theo had figured out the soulcrafting notations now, and he saw lots of cities like Norro Yorthin: multiple Strongholds, but Dominions remained rare. "You're saying that they call on allies proportionally to threats?"

"In essence. If the Ruling Cities, or some other nation, attempted to destroy or conquer an undersea city, they would draw opposition from a large portion of the oceans to match. So the stereotypical sullenness of the depths is in fact a highly effective system to allow them to persist, as few land-based organizations can coordinate on such scales."

"Tymetron might be the exception to that rule, though."

"Yes, and that is where this theory has a practical outcome." Navim held up a single limb, almost like a humanoid raising a finger. "Note the unique icon on the edge of the slate: I believe that the ocean between Norron and Tymetron, or rather east of that ocean, contains an aeon-class soulcrafter."

"Interesting." Theo smiled as he looked down at the little icon that now took on new meaning. "We can't just weirkey out there and ask them to help, that would obviously fail, but do you think we can draw on this network of undersea cities to get them involved?"

"Perhaps, though we would need leverage. Could the undersea allies of the Gold Wastes perhaps be the end of that lever?"

"We can hope. Thanks for bringing this up, Navim, it could help."

"But of course. I am now nearly as invested in House Blacksilver as any of you."

They fell silent, and though Theo could have returned to his mass anvil, he didn't particularly feel like it. What he wanted was to leap to the Gold Wastes and actually put all of this to the test. If they could just get a few aeon-class allies, their chances of beating Tymetron would leap upward.

"I heard that raids are escalating in the Asplundat Movement," Navim said, "but is that actually true? There are always wars and rumors of wars."

"Actually, I'm not sure, because I haven't been able to get in contact with Homez lately." Theo shrugged, as he'd gotten used to this low level of raiding over the past months. "Let's talk about you, because we're in your debt after you brought all this information. What sapphires do you still need? I don't have our Siatan weirkey, but I could get it. I do have our key for Slest, so-"

"Actually, I received a Slescan sapphire from Krikree. She delivered it after the two of you returned from the Gold Wastes."

Theo blinked in surprise, because he had been almost completely unaware. He recalled Krikree mentioning something about a gift for Navim, but she had given it on her own, and when had she found the opportunity to visit Slest? It was good that she was taking that much initiative on her own, it just left him feeling like life was passing him by while he was so busy with obligations.

"Alright, forget Slest," Theo said, "and forget the sapphires if that's not top priority. What do you want to talk about?"

~

Pain, radiating through his lungs like a thousand tiny needles. Homez was nearly broken by it and he clung to whatever small facts he could: they hadn't destroyed his eyes, hands, or other vulnerable body parts. There had been no threats to maim him or destroy his soulhome. His torturers were free to cause great pain, but they didn't intend to destroy him.

That was a very thin comfort when the sublime cloth was shoved into his mouth.

Liquid began to seep from it, a sublime material that ran down his throat and began to suffocate him. He desperately tried to drink it into his soulhome, but it never rested comfortably there, and his body screamed at him that he was drowning.

Then, just when he thought he couldn't endure it any longer, his torturers pulled the cloth from his mouth. It pulled the liquid along with it, burning his throat and also ripping out of his soulhome, leaving his spirit scorched. Just as darkness infected the corners of his vision, his lungs were finally free again.

He was left hanging limply from the rack, gasping for breath. Over the course of the torture, he had learned to manage the sublime liquid so it didn't damage his soulhome, but there was nothing he could do to overcome the primal terror of drowning.

"Where is the strike force?" The voice came from one of the gold-masked Fithans, an agent of Tymetron who had been torturing him for days. Homez had no idea how many there were, because they were hidden by the robes and masks of their office.

"I don't... I don't..." The weakness in his voice wasn't being feigned, he really had so little left. He could persist only by clinging to the plan.

"We know you have precious few soulcrafters, and not enough anti-weirkey stones to fully harden your borders. There must be a base for your strike forces, or you wouldn't be able to hold us off this long."

"No... I..." Homez slumped back, knowing that they would only begin torturing him again.

Yet this time, unlike the previous unending days, they were interrupted. Someone opened the door to the torture chamber, and as he wasn't hooded, for the first time Homez got a glimpse of the room outside. Unlike the simple chamber of blue stone that held him, outside he could see glass and marble.

A depths Fithan city. That tiny piece of knowledge was like a breath of fresh air, after so long having no idea where he'd been taken. Others in the Movement had refused to believe that Tymetron ever worked beneath the oceans, given their own biases, and had refused to believe him. Now he finally had a shred of proof, if only...

His torturer went to speak with the messenger and they spoke in low voices. But either they underestimated how much Homez had enhanced his hearing or they simply didn't care, because he could make out their words. It sounded as though they only held one or two undersea cities in this region, and then, miraculously, he actually heard familiar names.

Now he knew where he was: the city of Laksloe off the eastern coast of Norron, adjacent to the Asplundat Movement and the Wavefront region. That was enough, it was finally enough.

The door closed, the torturer returned, and the rag was lifted again.

"Now, you have one more chance t-"

"No!" Homez interrupted the man with a desperate half-scream. "No, I... I don't know everything, but I know... where they stationed me. It's a place called Outpost #331. On the coast. It's not in a cove, there's..."

He slowly gave up the information and it hurt, even if a broken part of him knew this was supposed to happen. That part of his mind, buried so deep, told them what they wanted to know. It still felt like defeat, and when he was left alone, Homez sagged against the rack.

After that, he actually wasn't tortured again, and instead of dribbling broth down his throat, they gave him food. The time without torture let Homez return to himself, begin to rebuild his thoughts that had been shattered by pain and simulated drowning over and over again.

This had been the plan. His plan. Outpost #331 had been chosen as a specific message, telling the war councils about the location of where he was being held. Their system couldn't specify every detail, as there weren't enough strike force bases for that, but it would prove that Tymetron was attacking from underwater, and hopefully get them close enough that they could deduce his location.

But the cost weighed on him: not the torture, the fact that he had given up a real location. For the plan to work, it couldn't be a trap, otherwise Tymetron would know he had fed them false information.

Homez told himself that this was necessary: Movement bases were already being attacked, and the enemy was getting better at locating and destroying them. For them to win this war, they needed to unravel Tymetron's strategy, and this had been the only way. Now that he was here... the chances that he would make it out alive were low, but he would be able to feed the enemy information that could lead to a crippling counter-attack. That potential sustained him as he hung alone in the chamber.

Some time later - it might have been days - several masked torturers returned to the room and formed a semi-circle around his rack.

"Your information proved true," a woman's voice said. "The outpost is destroyed."

It took no acting to hang his head in shame.

"Your cooperation will be rewarded, as we told you from the beginning."

"What do you need to know?" Homez asked weakly. "Anything, please, I just can't go back..."

"Oh, there is no need for that." Two of the torturers reached down to grasp his arms, which were already thoroughly bound, and the third stepped forward holding another cloth. "You will join us soon enough."

Only then did Homez realize that the cloth being raised was golden. Liquid gold poured down over his face, not hot or torturous but blessedly cool, and that was when Homez started to scream.