As Lindon absorbed this information, he looked over to Eithan. “How long will it take us to get there?”
Eithan paused a moment before gesturing to the massive windows. “We’re here. We don’t want to head any further into Sacred Valley in case the field reactivates.”
Yerin leaned closer to look into Lindon’s eyes, but Lindon didn’t acknowledge his own blindness. He was recovering anyway.
“All right, then let’s go,” Lindon said. “Without the suppression field, we should be able to move quickly. The sooner we’re in and out, the better.”
With luck, they could move full speed in the labyrinth. They might even be able to make it to the bottom and back up in less than a day.
Though Lindon doubted it.
[Yes, by all means let us rush headfirst into danger,] Dross said. [There is no way that it will result in all of our deaths. Ha ha.]
The delivery was so dry and toneless that it made Lindon shiver.
“Dross, you can stop that.”
[I was emulating my previous persona.]
“I know. It’s…unnerving.”
[Acknowledged. Next time, I will attempt a more accurate impression.]
9
Information restricted: Personal Record 1126.
Authorization required to access.
Authorization confirmed: 008 Ozriel.
Beginning record…
The Abidan didn’t know what to do with Ozmanthus Arelius.
Even his initial compatibility tests came back with unprecedented results. He had maximum potential in six of the seven Divisions. It quickly became clear that he could inherit the Mantle of any Judge.
Except one: Suriel. He had no compatibility with the Phoenix at all, as though his very existence was in opposition to the concept of restoration.
Naturally, Ozmanthus was not satisfied with these results.
He dedicated himself to fixing, building, creating, healing, and restoring. He couldn’t join the Phoenix Division, but he worked with them as closely as possible. He thought that surely his skill in crafting and engineering would be his pathway forward, but when that never worked, he branched out.
He learned the arts of many worlds, took on ancient riddles, repaired governments and relationships. He lived for a time as a pacifist monk wandering the streets of Sanctum, though he quickly grew bored with that.
No matter what he did, the nature of his origin didn’t change.
Not that anyone else from the Abidan minded. Warriors and killers could both be put to work in the service of order, and if Ozmanthus didn’t want to bring death, there was always his other great talent of detection.
The Spider of the Abidan works to find instances of chaos and disruption among the Iterations, and to bind the Abidan together with communication. Ozmanthus joined his Third Division and was declared the successor to Telariel in record time.
In this capacity, he continued to have a special fascination with the Phoenix Division, as they were those who could do what he could not. He struck up a friendship with a woman expected to succeed the Mantle of Suriel.
She advised him not to ignore his talents. A true Phoenix would contribute to the greater cause of restoration however they could.
He kept that in mind when he and his fellow Spiders encountered a Vroshir trap.
It was an ambush intended to wipe them out. The enemy had taken over an entire Iteration, then cut it off from the Way when the Abidan arrived to investigate. Upon entry into the world, his entire team was eradicated.
Except him.
He escaped, but the disparity bothered him. With a weapon on the level of a Judge, he would have been able to defend his team, but such weapons were highly restricted and forbidden to create.
Ozmanthus began to gather materials.
He stole, unearthed, or recovered weapons of absolute destructive authority. Obsolete Judge weapons, like the prototype Razor of Suriel, and the Shears of a previous Makiel that had once snipped threads from Fate. Weapons that had been used against Judges, like the Bane of the Titan—made by the Vroshir to kill the second-generation Gadrael. Even the greatest weapons used by the Vroshir: Sha’irik, the absolute curse, and Auctarius, the Blade that Sundered Heaven.
Finally, he added his own original creation. An improved version of Penance, his old creation, the arrowhead of absolute death.
He bound these together in the depths of the Void, so far from the Way that even Fiends could not last long, in a zone of pure nonexistence and annihilation.
He forged them in the energy of a stolen Worldseed, with enough power that it could have birthed an entire Iteration.
By doing so, he indeed created a peerless weapon: a Scythe that would let him fight like a Judge. But he did not expect the recognition of the Way.