“That’s wise,” Faryn agreed. “Store them for later. You’ll have plenty of time to discover a new technique once we’ve settled in.”
Kegohr wrapped the spinedrake cores into a soft blanket and carefully stashed them into his rucksack.
Kumi hummed a soft tune, twisted her hands, and used some of our drinking water to mend our injuries. Cool water splashed over each of us, and the abrasions from my slide across the slate closed over, leaving unblemished skin in its wake.
Mahrai dissolved her golem into dust behind us, and we climbed back onto the mountain path with fresh reserves of energy and the satisfaction that came with victory.
I kept a look-out for any more spinedrakes or other monsters as we continued our trek into the night. We rounded a twist in the track and found a set of neatly carved steps leading upward. A surge of fresh energy flooded my body at the sight. It wouldn’t be long before we found the monastery. The stairs led up a steep hill, wound around small shrines to gods I’d never heard of, and finally brought us to the front steps of our destination.
I froze in astonishment when I saw the Dying Sun Monastery.
Curling gold leaf shingles spilled over the edges of the pagoda roofs. Dragon statues flanked enormously wide steps that led to a gigantic front door. Ancient script of the Immortals hung on scarlet banners, and one brushed past me as I started up the last of the stairs to the entrance.
“It reminds me a lot of the temple back on Earth,” I murmured to Nydarth. “It has a similar architecture to that structure, as well as the Unwashed Temple.”
“It does have an echoing familiarity about it,” she said. “Be on your guard, sweet man. Perhaps here you will find the answer to your arrival on this plane.”
I halted at the doors and took a deep breath to center myself. Excitement, confusion, and curiosity warred in my mind as I waited for my friends to catch up. Vesma and Faryn stared up at the monastery in awe. Kegohr guffawed while Mahrai actually wore an impressed smile.
“Proud spirits, we thank you for allowing us safe passage,” Kumi murmured as she bowed respectfully to one of the dragon statues.
“You call that safe?” Mahrai snorted. “A trio of spinedrakes as a welcoming committee?”
“You were almost as terrifying a welcome to Hyng’ohr City,” Kegohr muttered under his breath.
“Mahrai speaks insolently,” Kumi said, staring up at the dragon statue, “but her heart remains in your service.”
“Now, listen here—” Mahrai began.
The doors scraped open and cut her words short. Two men in scarlet robes pushed the doors open and stood silently at each side of the entrance. I studied them as I approached. Their heads were shaved, but wispy white beards hung almost to their waists. Their calm eyes didn’t meet mine when I spoke.
“We are the requested members of Radiant Dragon.”
The two monks raised their hands and gestured in sync toward the inside of the monastery. I couldn’t help shivering as I bowed to them. My senses tingled as I strolled through the doors.
Inside, my eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom. A massive floor of dark stone made every footstep echo ten times louder. More golden statues towered over us, and a series of mighty pillars held up the vaulted ceiling. Intricate scrollwork wrapped itself around the supports and glowed with a soft yellow light.
Vigor drenched every inch of the monastery. I could feel it in the air, the ground beneath my feet, and especially in the pillars around us. I had seen this kind of energy in the Sunstone Temple, back in Hyng’ohr Valley, but the magical ambience of the monastery dwarfed Sunstone by comparison. The decorations alone must have been worth billions back home. Each statue and inscription had to be centuries old. Money alone couldn’t pay for majesty and beauty like this.
I turned my gaze forward to a massive altar at the other end of the entrance hall. A fierce dragon warred with a lion in a huge golden mosaic on the wall above the altar. Potent incense swirled up in streaming wisps, and a single figure sat deep in meditation before it. His scarlet robes were darkened by a black stole while the light of the candles before him reflected off his bald head.
My team kept their silence as we walked to meet the solitary monk.
His voice broke the quiet like a cracking whip.
“State your intention, travelers.”
The authority and power in the man’s voice hit me like a punch. The monk’s voice itself was a weapon, and the force behind it made me hesitate. I had met one person with a similar skill before, but he’d been a Straight Path cultist.
I bowed and chose my words carefully. “We have come to train at the behest of Guildmaster Xilarion of Radiant Dragon. He extends his wish of good fortune, his greetings, and his gratitude to the Monastery of the Dying Sun.”
The monk inclined his head but didn’t so much as glance over his shoulder at us. “Xilarion always did have good manners. You are Ethan Murphy Lo Pashat, the newest who bears the mantle of Immortal Swordslinger.”
I simply bowed.
“And behind you: Kegohr the Wild; Vesma, she of the humble beginnings and quick wit; Faryn, of course, from the Western Forests; Princess of the Qihin, you are welcomed here also. But you, girl of the darkened heart and narrow mind... You, I do not know.”
“My name is Mahrai, and I follow the Swordslinger,” Mahrai said.
The old monk dipped his head in understanding. “At his request, I believe. Then it is as the spirits have told me. Good fortune smiles on us this evening.”
The monk was on his feet so fast that I couldn’t track the movement. The man couldn’t have been any taller than 5’5”, and his robes hung off his skeletal form like sheets. His skin was tight and weathered,
