Sophia shook her head at Cliff's antics. She didn't blame him; what he wanted was best for everyone involved. It was still amusing, partly because he thought he'd said everything that was necessary and partly because she knew what was behind it. They'd run into their first "bound" creature other than Taika in the Arena a few days earlier. It was the first time Sophia had ever seen Cliff Collect something that wasn't specifically from a monster.

She could feel some overtones in his speech and knew the dungeon core was being greedy; he absolutely could directly bind Mo'ra, the same way he'd bound Taika. The problem with that was obvious: he'd get Mo'ra as she was, just like he'd gotten Taika as she was. While she'd be able to advance as Sophia did, the same way both Cliff and Taika did, she'd only gain a single Sphere; worse, it would be based on what she already had.

It would be different if he weren't a dungeon core, able to support any monster, but he was and could. He couldn't alter what was already there in anything but a copy.

If Mo'ra bound herself to someone else, especially with Cliff's help, she'd gain something from the person she was bound to and it might even replace her current Sphere. Since a "shattered dream-smith" Sphere was useless to an immobile, broken sword, Sophia fully expected that the result of that would be better than what Cliff would manage to make of her on his own. The fact that he could then copy her as if she was a monster and apply templates to what he copied was a pure bonus as far as Cliff was concerned.

Anyone she was bound to would give her something. Sophia didn't know what it would be from her; probably something feather-based. Maybe she'd even turn into one of Sophia's feathers, just made of metal. That would be a waste, just like giving it to Ci'an would be. A hawk didn't need a sword.

Sweetfire wasn't going to happen, even if Sophia could see what a sword infused with Sweetfire might be. He didn't need a flaming blade and Sophia doubted Mo'ra would care for that anyway.

Dav would be a good choice; an eldritch shattered blade sounded vaguely terrifying rather than useless. Jax was similar, since she'd likely become tied to his Mask somehow; perhaps she'd be a weapon he could use that would change for him as he changed Masks.

Of course, all of those assumed that the binding reflected the fact that Mo'ra was a sword rather than the fact that she was once a person or that she was deliberately created broken. If either of those dominated the link, she'd be essentially useless, nothing more than a voice in her partner's mind and a line on their Status.

No, the obvious choice from an emotional standpoint, Xin'ri, was also the obvious choice for power. Xin'ri had the Item anchor; everything she did was done through items. Sophia didn't know what power Mo'ra would gain from the link, but whatever it was would be suited to her as a sword rather than as the person she'd once been.

To Sophia, the fact that Xin'ri and Mo'ra were friends once upon a time was far more important than keeping Mo'ra useful; Cliff probably felt the other way. Either way, it was going to work out for both of them.

"Xin'ri? Please touch Mo'ra." Sophia waited for Xin'ri to follow her directions, then set her own hand on top of Xin'ri's. "It's up to you now, Cliff."

Cliff snorted softly in the back of Sophia's mind. It almost sounded like he was muttering about Mo'ra doing it herself, but he was the one who offered; Sophia wasn't going to let him off the hook now.

A tiny amount of magic passed from Sophia's hand into Xin'ri's and then into Mo'ra's hilt. Almost immediately, Mo'ra began to glow. Sophia lifted her hand and stepped back to watch.

"What's happening? Why … Xin'ri? Oh, Xin'ri! Yes, yes I will. That sounds like fun!" Mo'ra's voice shifted from worried to excited as she spoke. "Hmmm… a choice? But why do these all say they're Hallowed by the Builder, not the Broken Lord?"

"The Builder is my Patron," Xin'ri answered easily, without even a glance at the rest of the group. She'd never actually said she was Hallowed before, and the Builder wasn't a Patron Sophia thought she'd heard of, but that Patron certainly seemed to make sense for Xin'ri. "You will be changing Patrons, and I promise the Builder will never ask you to sacrifice yourself the way the Broken Lord did."

Xin'ri sounded positively fierce. "You can choose any of your options, whatever you want to do. You don't have to limit yourself to one that will be useful. I wish … no, I can't waste time wishing. What's a few months when I've carried you for years? I'll keep carrying you if that's what you want."

Mo'ra spoke after a long pause. "I don't want to be reforged or restored or reshaped. I don't … no, bladewind sounds way too messy. I … wait, what was that one? Channel? Yes, definitely, that one. I want the Hallow Indirect Channel."

Sophia didn't have time to ask what that meant before all of the pieces that were Mo'ra drifted up from the floor and arranged themselves into an approximation of the sword they'd once been, with the tip pointed up and the pommel towards the ground. Mo'ra glowed with magic; licks of bright energy connected her pieces while wispy magic flowed off of her and created a larger, radiant aura.

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It lasted for a single long moment before the light faded to a soft glow that outlined the broken sword. "I like this. It's easier than before. And I can see you now … why do you look so much older, Xin'ri?"

Bai opened the door carefully. It wasn't locked, which was both good and concerning at the same time. He had no idea why Sweetfire was down this deep in the tunnels; there wasn't anything down here worth anything anymore. That was why no one came down here.

Yet Sweetfire had, and he wasn't alone. That was positively worrying. The fact that one of the people in the group he'd headed down here with was a blonde elf, just like the one who opened the door in the test farm, was either very good or very bad. Bai wasn't sure which, yet.

It did make them easier to follow, at least. They weren't trying to hide the dust they disturbed.

The door led to a relatively large room; Bai thought it had once been a small restaurant. The people he wanted to see weren't there. Instead, he found more disturbed dust that led to a stairwell at the rear of the shop. It was a supply route, if he remembered correctly, one of many that led directly into places that served a lot of people on their level.

Bai followed the trail farther and farther into the unused parts of the city's underground. The old location-beacons were only partly functional; the marks added by the people who explored the underground while Mazehold was being resettled were easier to follow. It was clear Sweetfire was following them, too, because he always took the direct path to the next known set of stairs instead of any of the side paths or secure shortcuts that he could have taken with the help of a maintenance worker with Tiwaz's imprint.

That made it obvious that Sweetwater was leading and the elf was following. Bai had no idea why someone who ought to have maps of the entire facility would be following rather than leading, but there had to be a reason. He had maps of the entire facility and he was following, so it wasn't even hard to imagine.

Bai opened yet another unlocked door; by now, he was far enough from where people lived that it would be a complete surprise to find a locked door. He couldn't come up with a good reason they were here; even the hermits who avoided people didn't come this far out. There was far too much risk of a monster.

And yet he'd seen no signs of any monsters. Did Sweetfire know something Bai didn't?

Bai was three steps into the room when he realized something was wrong. The room he'd entered was huge, by far the largest one yet; it was probably one of the assembly halls or sporting venues. He didn't take the time to check which, because what he saw in ahead of himself was far more important.

Or, more accurately, what he didn't see in front of himself. The trail led about another ten feet forward, then disappeared into … nothingness? Absolute darkness? Bai wasn't entirely certain which. He could see the far side of the perfect circle, and everywhere he looked was the same. The stone floor just … ended. It was a sphere, probably, but there was no light reflected from the bottom of the sphere at all.

Bai wasn't dumb enough to interfere with it. This was magic on a scale he hadn't seen in centuries and that meant he wasn't about to mess with it. Had they come down here to investigate whatever this was?

In that case, why weren't they still here?

Bai walked around the sphere of nothingness.

At first, there was more disturbance in the dust all around the missing space. It soon became clear that there were areas that weren't just disturbed by footsteps, though there were many of those. It looked almost like the space had been swept.

That became certain when he found the brooms. Bai wondered how they'd gotten them down the long passageways; they would have been very awkward.

Not long after that, Bai found a lidded bucket with the lid jammed on tightly. It was odd enough that he clicked the clasp open, then lifted the lid.

Brightness flared in his eyes. The liquid in the bucket was magical. It wasn't strongly magical, no, but it was definitely infused, rather like infused aurichalc. It was also definitely liquid. Bai shook his head, then looked at the rest of the detritus abandoned near the bucket. There were wooden slats with shapes cut out of them splashed with white paint, several bushes, a pile of wet cloth … wait.

Bai focused on the white splashes all over the discarded supplies to confirm his suspicion. They glowed softly with magic, weak but clearly present. The liquid in the bucket was magic-infused paint?

It had to be, but that was a strange idea to Bai. He knew that some enchanters used magic-infused ink for their enchantments, but that was usually limited to carrying the magic from the user to the enchantment or otherwise to make the enchantment fit in whatever object it was encased in. Whatever it was, it was always hidden to make it harder to damage; something like magical paint was far too easy to remove. Paint didn't stick that well, and who would want to replace an enchantment regularly, just because it was walked on or something? It wasn't even the important part of an enchantment!

At the same time, this showed far too much effort to be completely pointless, so there had to be a reason. Bai set the lid back on the bucket and engaged the clasps, then sat down on top of it. He was certain that whatever was going on here had something to do with the elf and that meant it had something to do with Tiwaz. He simply had to be patient.

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