Lightning cracked across a clear sky and Cerina smacked into the dirty alleyway, flopping like a beached fish. She grimaced, groaning at the taste of the street, and spat. Smoke rose from her singed robes as she started to haul herself upright. A fizzing bang went off above her and she ducked and squeaked in surprise, scampering away.
"Away, away, awaaaaaay…" she babbled under her breath as she fled, pulling her Qi around herself, her ungainly scuttle carrying her deeper into the alley. When she looked back she saw a pole of obsidian-like black iron, taller than the rooftops, and a copper plaque atop it that had burst into sputtering green flames and sparks. The air tasted of ozone and the distinct scent of a busted array.
She found a turn, slipped around it and then saw the opening to a fuel chute. Tunnel! Her instincts yanked her into that hole smaller than a human, a snaking hand grabbing the lid and pulling it closed after her. She contorted herself deeper into the tunnel, shuffling and squirming down into the shadows, her limbs folded up around her body in a way that would tear the joints on any normal person.
Holding her breath, Cerina continued to throttle all of the Qi leaving her body, feeling a rapid onset headache. No good being spotted by any annoyed city cultivators coming to check out the magical disturbance.
How lucky that there was one nearby.
"Hmmpf, an array busted again? Way too often now… what's this charring though?" An annoyed voice muttered in the common Turtleworld tongue. The accent sounded familiar. The cultivator continued muttering, though she could not make out their low words.
She stayed absolutely still, twisting her Qi into the attention avoidance technique she'd been developing. The presence remained near the malfunctioning array for several minutes, the sputtering Qi of the array disappearing as they worked. Then their Qi which tasted like ash mixed in brackish lake water started to pulse. All together this process of suppression took maybe ten minutes, and then the cultivator was on the move again.
She lurked in that charcoal stained hole, listening intently as they walked past. When they did, she began to think, brain whirring. She needed to find out her objective. Where was she? That was the first step. Were the arrays her task to fix? No, note that thought, find out where she was. First though, she needed to wait. About twenty minutes later she finally heard someone new walk by, their Qi miniscule. They smelled like a mortal.
When they were gone she unseated her hip and knee joints and used her legs to push herself out of the chute, unfolding from her contortions like a giant spider. She inhaled a full breath, still clinging to that attention avoiding trick. She needed a better name for it actually. A solution readily provided itself: why not call it being backstage? Invisible to the audience and to the actors both, an assistant moving around backstage was forgettable, and could take up any minor role as needed by the play.
That made her almost chuckle, new insight bubbling in her brain. But if I am going to be backstage, a costume would help sell it. She hunted around the alley until she found a dirty length of brown fabric piled up on a crate. She wrapped it around her body as a shawl and blanket. Then the girl altered how her Qi was twisting and imagined 'stepping back'.
Her senses shifted, the sensations caused by her own body becoming muted, and thus everything around her became clearer. The beggar's new blanket smelled musty and rotten from dust and rain and old stains, the scent lingering in her nose like an old foe. But it would work perfectly for this.
Cerina started walking, back arched and knees bent to compress her height down into a more human shape. Dust mixed with the charcoal stains, adding to her appearance of filth and weakness, her stained hair bundled into the hood. It only took a short time to come to a larger street, where she saw more of this city. The buildings were in a style unfamiliar to the Third Sea, made from brownstone and ranging from two to four rectangular floors with peaked arches on the bottom floors supported by little columns. The windows were all arched as well. Their roofs were flat or peaked with greenish tiles, as opposed to swooping red or the Clan's own domes and spires. The roof gutters were tin instead of clay.
What a weird looking place. But the cobblestone streets, the accent, the buildings, the carriages that rolled by her spot huddled beside a corner? Deeply familiar. This was the city of Merrcio and his theater troupe. This area of the city seemed to be a dense residential quarter. The people on the streets went about their business, gossiping and hurrying here or there. Everyone seemed tense, their eyes constantly looking at the array poles, their shoulders hunched and their faces drawn.
It was quite strange to see their eyes pass right over her, their paths taking them uncomfortably close. She hugged the walls of the buildings, which all had address plates that started with "Southern Orchard". She didn't remember the address of Merrcio's theater - maybe it had never been given.
Where were they?
Looking out over the roofs, towards the northeast, she could see a hill that dominated the inner city. A massive flat topped hill-keep for whatever Sect or Clan ruled here. Blue roofed towers with white pennants grew up from the hill. A huge peaked temple sat at the top of the hill, partially obscured by those towers. This hill did not sit in the exact center of town. The exact center actually seemed to be flat.
She kept searching. The beggar sneezed hard from the dust on her blanket. Newly intense smells and sounds led her to her next destination, a market for spices, herbs, fresh food and animals set in an intersection of four streets. To the east, an array pole rose up over a street entering the market. It was surrounded by homes and had a simple well in the middle. Clothes lines hung between the second stories of each house, creating neat lines of drying cloth overhead.
One man was selling cages of chickens and baskets of vegetables. The sun beat down from the sky and the beggar slid behind a stack of vegetable baskets at the very back of his little blanket marked area. Snagging a small bundle of carrots, she tucked herself half under a house porch. She listened and ate, savoring their sweetness, almost like yam.
A woman walked by with a basket over one arm, talking to another girl in the next stall over. "Ah Mary! Are your parents well? How is your aunt? Is she sleeping better? You remember her Fransisco-?" The gossiping woman turned to the chicken man.
The beggar frowned, and moved on. "She's sleeping better since the fire, Anita," the girl answered. The conversation dissolved into small talk and nervous gossiping about prices behind the beggar as she shifted away from the man, and towards a fruit seller talking to another customer.
"These are the best fruits in this fair city of Ambervale! Fed well on the blessed Vitae of the gods." The fruit seller exclaimed. Was Vitae another name for Qi here?
Well that was somewhere she had never heard of. The air here reminded her of the Green Scale Plains. Was this a place from the past? Somewhere in history now lost to time. Listening brought her no mention of the Clan. Was this in another Sea? The girl ceased thinking about it. She was pleased to discover the city apparently had a magical lake in its very center, people talking about getting its water from special pipe fed sacred wells and drinking it for good health.
As she listened and moved around the market, she eventually started to ponder how she had got here.
After the Doors trial she had walked down that tunnel of gray stone, and it had come to a dead end. The dead end had then split into cubes grinding past each other, smoky red light glowing from the gaps, as it dug through space to forge a path forward. In that constantly extending tunnel she'd realized her cultivation had stalled out during the first trial, as the changes in her body from the Herb she'd looted had settled.
She didn't really know where to go to get what she wanted. In a literal sense she needed to find the theater and figure out her mission here, that was the easy part. But about an hour ago she'd realized the way her Qi flowed had changed unexpectedly. Ever since she'd reached the 12th Heavenstage her Qi would normally flow in a cycle; taken in by her body, passed to her meridians, then to her soul, being used up along the way. Any that her soul did not use was fed back into her network and body for increased efficiency, and the faint wisps that remained were exhaled.
She'd modeled it off the unidirectional breathing of birds and certain reptiles exactly because of that efficiency. Now, as she sat here munching on carrots, she was exhaling far more Qi than she usually did. Her upkeep had dropped enormously, because her cultivation was not accepting any further refinement. She was saturated. She only lost what she needed to maintain her cultivation base.
And that had led her to discover something else with her Eye. With the slack removed from her cycle as Qi was used up, she had found a very subtle standing wave with no clear source resonating through her body and soul. So what was she supposed to do with it?
Because she could feel that there was a step she could still take. That was the sensation nagging at her brain, an aching frustration - because she was missing whatever the final step was to actually reach the 13th Heavenstage. Katha had never been able to tell her beyond it being related to the Dao, an understanding of what is and what ought to be, and watching Mia had only given her the sense the little beast girl couldn't do it.
Sitting behind a textile seller with many red swatches of muslin she mulled the problem over, reaching back through her memories to reexamine and reflect on old conversations she'd had with the Ironblooded. She found little success, and that just caused her to think about another problem. Cerina sighed, her smile having long turned into a frown. This was boring without her friends to mess around with. This was annoying with all the time she'd had to stew on her anger, pressing it into the front of her brain. Rina would hate the concept of what Heaven was doing here - creating people and then just callously playing with their lives in a memory of a place long dead.
And it pissed her off too. She'd wanted to be friends with Merrcio and Heaven took that option away while giving her a shiny bauble to distract her. Someone that devoted to their art, that he was willing to risk it all failing in misery - someone who got it. Like she did. Desperation to make it work and satisfaction when it did was a compelling mix.
Maybe he was still here? She sighed again. A great deal of time could have passed between the Doors and this city and he was likely dead. But, as she sighed her ears pricked, and another conversation finally caught her full attention.
"Gran… Sherry was almost trapped in the latest fire. She told me the Molt-Diviners won't host a Drinking Festival this year, with all the fires and deaths. Have you seen how low the lake is? Is it true?" Asked the young woman manning the textile stall, an air of nervous desperation in her tone as she spoke to a wrinkled prune of a woman with no hair. "Morgan was fretting about our prospects with all the trouble."
"Feh, of course they will, fool! You two should listen to the priest and not that dumb Sherry girl's worries. The Flame-Child is strong and the Molt-Diviners are wise. I am sure the ill fortune attracted to those magic talismans of theirs will pass like it always has," the prune said.
"Yes Gran," the girl responded, her voice bitter and resentful, folding the swatches of cloth in front of her angrily.
Names! Who were the Molt-Diviners? Who was the Flame-Child? What was wrong with the lake water? What kind of disaster was unfolding here? It was time to go - she'd spent enough time getting her bearings. Cerina scuttled away, her technique flickering for a moment. She was too fast for the market to understand what they saw. Perhaps just a stray dog or a teenager off on an adventure.
The rest of the people she passed on the street paid the beggar no mind as she explored around the southern parts of the city, the powers of Qi and beggarhood making them quite willing to not pay attention to her. Troublingly, more than once she encountered wrecked buildings burnt to black bones and closed off by rope barricades hung with memorial plaques. Dozens upon dozens of them, everywhere if she looked deep enough. Sometimes just a single house or a small neighborhood. Sometimes multiple blocks, just, carved out.
Gone.
She worried at her lips, her melancholic and lonely thoughts the only thing to keep her company amidst the scent of long settled ash.
It didn't help that there were so many cultivators as she explored deeper into the city, all of them in the First Realm and patrolling the streets. She saw close to a hundred in only an hour, all wielding staves of black iron that looked like obsidian. They walked in groups of four and the crowd parted around them like well trained sheep.
They did not speak amongst the mortals. Did they have a communication treasure? Their staves maybe? Something hidden under their blue and white robes? Would they all know if one saw her? She pulled her technique closer about her shoulders and watched them like a wary beast. All of their heads were shaved, and their feet shod in fine slippers. Their manner of dress and behavior made her think of priests rather than warriors. Sometimes a group would step off and make their way towards an array pole, everyone parting to let them through.
The mortals did not raise their eyes to the cultivators, and Cerina only took surreptitious peeks with her Qi sense. Beggars cleared out before the worthies approached. She followed her fellows' lead, mostly. Up until the sun began to set, of course. She hadn't found the theater in this part of the city, but before nightfall she could at least try to learn something by following the cultivators that stepped off the main roads.
Holding tight to her shawl and little magic the beggar changed course and looped back to lurk around a main thoroughfare. She hid behind some barrels and waited. It took only a handful of minutes for another group of four to appear. She followed after them, hobbling along the parallel streets. When they stopped, she peered around a wall to find them giving silent prayers to an array. The rustles of their robes were loud, and she heard a subtle clinking from underneath those clothes.
The arrays were plaques of copper, marked with Turtleworld characters, but her glimpses of the words on them indicated they were verses related to the sky and heat and light. None of it was familiar. She believed these were probably references to specific scripture or symbol substitution codes. Most public facing array work was obfuscated in some way to mitigate leaks.
Looking at them properly against the twilight sky she was able to see a fascinating web of connections between each pole. It breathed, somehow. Even fainter lines of Qi extended from the arrays towards the buildings nearby, but they very quickly disappeared into the background of skyborne Qi raining down upon the city. They were a load bearing structure for a web of Qi, spread over the entire city, through every building and street.
She made a quiet note to paint this when she got back home. She couldn't make much of a guess for what the Qi was doing of course. It was resonant with concepts she was completely unfamiliar with and she couldn't interpret what the arrays were actually using it for, besides guesses about blessing manipulation from how the mortals talked about them.
Which, to be fair, wasn't an unreasonable - if reductive - possibility.
She was looking up at the sky to the west and examining lines of hidden light under her Foresighted Eye, pondering the colors to use when painting them, when she glimpsed a ripple passing through the air. A phantom light bloomed, fire clawing at the twilight sky and throwing chunks of wood and stone and bodies high. She was at least a mile away, and immediately leapt into a sprint towards the western districts, leaving the cultivators behind.
She wouldn't make it in time and she cursed her lack of strength for that, her feelings of melancholy curdling in her gut. But she might be able to save people who got trapped in the aftermath. Her technique utterly failed, the mindset required coming apart like paper, and she strained herself for speed, the wind carrying her along as a blur that rattled the roof tiles. She had no time for calling out warnings, nor would it help.
Three seconds had passed.
People glanced up at the wind rattling the roof tiles. Cerina leapt over alleys and streets, taking the most direct path to the western district. Now able to look out over the city she saw the peaked roofs of shrines reaching above the other buildings, surrounded by a ring of streets. One of those shrines was in roughly the right place.
Ominously, now that she was up on the roofs she could see other dark spots, signs of fires, in the city. Some in the west, wounds stabbed across the northwest, a long scar from flame in the east. How long had this been going on? She thundered into the western district, but was only a third of the way to the shrine.
The skyborne Qi started to buzz against her skin, agitated, and flicking her eye over the network she realized that Qi was building up. Rushing like a surge of water from the hill and then down the lines into the western district. She sensed the faint flicker of someone else, a malicious Qi signature in the heart of the wave that felt like an oozing mix of ash and fine drinks. The feeling abruptly turned north and then vanished.
Eleven seconds had passed.
She could feel the towering presences of two Experts arriving at the border of the western district, perhaps sensitive to the disturbance in Qi or warned by their allies. Or maybe lured into a trap. The Experts thoroughly overshadowed the lesser Juniors who were following in their wake. They zipped across the district almost faster than she could track, appearing around the shrine and raising their Qi in a desperate attempt to contain what was coming.
She registered the blinding light first, heat drying her skin and making her Eye water. Then the shockwave plucked her out of the air and slammed her back onto the roof she had just leapt from. Lying there stunned amidst shattered tile and wood splinters, she heard the screaming and saw the pillar of smoke. Then the smell hit her in gusts of burning wind. Thick, dryer than the desert, burning wood and meat and a hint of something like cinnamon. Qi burning in the air? She could feel it twisting, cursing itself and putrefying all around her.
She picked herself back up and ran towards the disaster, gasping down breaths thick with the scent of death by fire. It took only a handful more seconds, if that. She found a crater, a neighborhood piled up in waves from the epicenter. A green pillar of fire burned in the center, consuming the shrine entirely, too bright too look at directly. The Experts were missing, their presences dispersing. The only cultivators in the district were Qi Condensers, still trying to reach the area and thus having been spared from the blast.
The entire neighborhood had been cracked open, its contents spilled out and piled up in chaotic waves of misery. People were coming to their feet, trying to make sense of what had happened, calling out to each other. Others crawled, calling for help. Houses and carts and people were starting to catch fire, the wreckage igniting with orange flames. Scraps of burnt cloth and ash choked the air, riding currents of awful charnel scent. Buildings fell apart in slow motion, debris crumbling as supports burned.
The smoke stung her exposed skin. Staying as far away from the burning wreckage, Cerina forced her way to the very center of the damage, looking for the Experts. The first one she found under a collapsed house, the remaining sign of their Qi fading away as they burned. Their body was almost unrecognizable from the pulsing burns that covered it, black with sparks of green buried inside the char. As she approached, the wreckage shifted and their body crumbled into a pile of ash and bones, the skeleton still glowing hot.
Grappling with the enormity of what had happened, she started trying to find anyone left alive. The area closest to the explosion was completely lifeless. Three blocks away she heard people calling out, and started digging to find them. First she found a family, huddled in a cellar. Other people were looking now. People glanced at her, but clearly felt no recognition, and no one spoke to her. No one cared in the midst of this disaster.
She found a man, buried beneath a fallen roof, his leg trapped under a rafter. She dug him out and lifted it, letting him crawl away, where a pair of walking wounded picked him up by the arms and helped him stumble away. She started directing the mortals who were still moving to help, following that example. But this was too big of a disaster for her to fix by herself.
She found a woman, hair dark, body stained with blood; coughing and slumped against the wall of her burning home. She saw Cerina and pointed into the black doorway. Cerina followed the weak cries within and found three children huddled in a half collapsed bedroom. But something in the house broke, weight slamming into her back, the children screaming in her arms. Pushing the wreckage aside with a yell, Cerina crawled out with them. When she escaped, she found the woman still, crushed under the remains of her own home.
She saved two dozen more mortals, even more dying before she could reach them or dying when she chose to save someone closer to her. There were too many for her to save them all. Hundreds. Had a thousand died before the Molt-Diviners finally reached the center? As they arrived, they spread, far more effective than she was at finding and rescuing people. She retreated, stepping away to try and take in all the damage.
Qi sparked and hissed invisibly through the air, green sparks glowed, and buildings erupted in flames while people tried to recover from the sudden shock. The network was disrupted and looking through the future she saw more fires starting all over the western district as arrays overloaded. She had no method to prevent the fires.
But it was something she had to warn people about. So she ran into the night, yelling at people about the fire that was coming. Most listened, a great wave of people preparing water or running away, screaming at the green sparks and the flames raining down from the sky. But some didn't. There was nothing that could be done for those that died from smoke and fire in their homes, dead and burning before their neighbors could break down their doors and save them.
Eventually she chased the fires into the northern district, her breath heaving. Perched atop a roof, when she looked back she saw fire burning across the center and the south of the city as well. A cascading failure of the network. In her gaze the spirits of Experts were like towers, reaching towards the fallen night and high crescent moon. There were only three, and the fires were barely being contained, more and more and more of the lesser Molt-Diviners moving out in force.
That's when her attention was caught by a flicker. A twisted bubble of malice, just a few streets over. She pulled herself backstage, slipping down to the street and moving closer. Their Qi pulsed with affront, spite. Wounded pride. This person tasted like that bitter mix of ash and lake water, but the bitterness had deepened and spiraled into pure spite. Like she was being choked by the ash. All of it was cut through by that taste of fine drink, and a feeling like lute strings about to snap.
Quiet as a shadow Cerina slipped down into the maze of streets and alleys. After navigating through several turns, the distant roar of flames constantly present, she peered around a final corner and her Eye landed on another shrine. This one she could see had a barred iron gate blocking a stairway leading down. The darkness dared her to approach. But she wasn't an idiot blinded by her own talent. She wasn't powerful enough to fight someone who could do this. She needed to find someone she could help fight this enemy. If only Katha was here.
There was nothing more she could do. Her soul twitched, something on the edge of understanding. She had to find the theater. It wasn't in the south district, nor the west. A noble lady had been the lead actress there… So where did that point her?
Her gaze lifted and turned towards the Sect hill and the opulent buildings at its base.
***
Cerina's fist slammed into the jaw of a mortal protection racketeer, beating his teeth out with precise impacts. Fat lot of good their exploitative 'protection' and 'fire brigade' was, and she'd heard people cursing them out as she wandered the streets. She was in the northeast section, the moon having set, leaving the city in darkness pierced by ill green flames. There'd been two smaller explosions and on top of no sleep she was getting cranky.
A frustrated hiss leaked from behind her red muslin veils, her bandaged hands tightening on his collar.
The thug's lolling head snapped up and he gurgled out wet sounds. "Phu… phul..!" He pawed weakly at her wrists. Her fingers were stained with layers of drying blood, the crimson slowly caking ash to her limbs.
She ignored him, glancing around the room. It was a sumptuous meeting and gambling house, tables, food, tea, a stairway up which led to an elite gathering area on the next floor. A dozen people were lying in the wreckage of tables, tossed like limp rags over the bar, and one unfortunate was embedded in the ceiling with his legs left to dangle. Upholstery fluff floated through the air like snow.
None of this hostile and greedy gang had known anything.
Maybe some of their largest donors did though, she'd heard frightened cries from upstairs. She sighed and let the man drop - his pleading was pointless since she had no plans to kill any of them. And he had nothing to give the Molt-Diviners if he tried to talk, with how she had disguised herself so thoroughly.
She stalked up the stairway. The door at the landing exploded into splinters, the ads once stuck to it fluttering across the room to land at the feet of the clientele all huddled around each other at the far end. A piece of paper gently landed atop the gleaming bald head of the man she'd kicked through the ceiling. He was still breathing, but unconscious. She walked past and with every step the clients babbled.
"What are you…!?" "Do you have any-!"
"Cultivator! Cultivator! Run!" That one tried to climb through one of the shuttered windows, before a second tried to push ahead, they both tripped and were then told to stop and shut up by a third.
"I'll give you it all I promise! Just a week more!"...And on and on and on.
She stopped, looming in front of them.
All of them wore nice robes or fine tunics and trousers, jewels and gold, the air filled with drug smoke. Rich folk, enticed to patronize the gang's establishment with fancy dining and products the racketeers brought into the city based on the powders left on the tables. One of the ones who'd been cringing in panic prostrated himself, crawling forward as he begged her to spare him.
Her foot landed on the back of his head. "Who here owns a theater?"
Struck mute, they each gasped, panted in fear, or simply shivered in place mutely. Her Qi and intent rose up, like a foul wind of claws and needles pressing against their minds and flesh. "I-I ah, mistress! That man does!" The man under her foot said and threw out an arm to point at someone in the crowd.
"You bastard!" Shrieked a woman, her hair heavily powdered and once neatly coiffed now all tangled, trying to shove herself forward and distract Cerina. Several others started yelling "Sellout! Sellout!" At him. The Devil ignored the screeching to follow the pointing finger to a small man with a triple braided beard and short black hair. She pressed forward, and for all the protests of sellout and traitor from the crowd, they all parted before her. The man formerly under her foot was pressed to the floor by an idle expression of her will.
The bearded theater owner tried to escape, leaping for the window - but her long fingered hand wrapped around his ankle and dragged him out into the center of the room. With a twitch of her wrist she flicked him into the air and caught him by the back of his collar, the man yelping as he spun. She was rather done with trying to wade through these disasters and dealing with all these annoying boring people. Fires were still burning and she had an idea.
The Foresighted Eye shivered on her finger as she gazed upon the possible futures. A kaleidoscope of possible movements blossomed around her, shades emerging from everyone as their choices grew out and moved in response to her future actions. She could only hear faint nonsense murmurs from the future, but she could read lips, and she could hear and feel herself.
In the split second as he stopped swinging in front of her, she focused entirely upon the man, narrowing her attention to only him. She played out conversations with him, carefully choosing her many possible words and watching his reactions. Twenty brief conversations in the span of an eyeblink, gathering information from the potential futures.
Some approaches caused incomprehension and useless information to fall from his lips. The ones that did work were filed away, used to calibrate her second round of attempts. The man moaned in her grip, his face going ashen and contorting in fear and his body creaking under her attention.
Two names emerged from the kaleidoscope when she asked where his main competitor was.
"...Golden-Eyed Carp Theater!" He choked.
"Swallow Street! …It's- its not too far! Otherside of the sect hill, follow the ring street until it intersects Swallow Street and go up Swallow away from the hill. It's right by a park!" He gasped, his collar digging into his throat as she pressed his face into the floor.
Click, click.
In the present she dropped him and considered the mortals cowering at her feet. Desperate, greedy. Exploitative and selfish in the midst of this disaster.
Hmm. Now how was she… ah. "The Flame-Child punishes you because of your association with this gang. Cease and pray for forgiveness from the Molt-Diviners, to intercede and calm its wrath. Perhaps your sins will be absolved and your properties last through these troubles if you do so."
She left in a swirl of dark cloth, leaving only the fearful and the unconscious behind.
***
The wind descended and Cerina landed before a familiar back door. This street was quiet this early, an hour before dawn, but she heard people within the edifice of the theater. She'd seen the front and it had a wonderful statue of a red carp with golden eyes placed on top of the marquee that hung over the entrance. Fatigue hung over her head but she kept it at bay through willpower and steady breathing.
It still smelled of smoke.
She knocked on the door and hoped she wouldn't have to bully the stagehands too hard. She straightened to her full height and tucked her blood stained arms into her sleeves. Oddly, she felt a distinctive Qi signature approach. A cultivator? They were only barely stronger than a mortal, distinct by the taste of ink and the sensation of silken cloth slashed by a sword in their presence. A ray of golden light swept across her and her gaze landed upon an older man in his forties, tanned skin wrinkled and his black hair marked by raven wings of gray.
"Merrcio?" Surprise made her hunch slightly to get a better look at him, head tilted in confusion as she pulled her veils loose and hung them about her neck. Still wearing a green shirt and brown trousers, a fancy gray coat about his shoulders. He was at the third Heavenstage if her Eye did not deceive her.
"Cleo? No, the girl… did I ever get your name?" he asked, just as surprised as her, deep confusion written on his furrowed brow. Memories seemed to play across his face and pulled his lips into a frown.
"Cerina," she answered. His frown smile turned into a smile then, the confusion partially buried.
"Well come in then! How could I not invite the angel who catapulted this theater to fame? Come in, come in," he insisted, waving his hand to gesture her inside.
A huge relief settled onto Cerina's shoulders and she hunched through the doorway gratefully. When she straightened again her back popped loudly and she sighed. "Is it just you here Merrcio?"
The man nodded, guiding her through a hallway to a room that had the red cushioned door propped open. A copper plaque to the left indicated it was the Director's office. The inside of the room was lit by two lamps, one to the right of the door and one sat on a vanity beneath a large mirror. Both were lit, revealing the cushy red and brown couches and chairs. Merrcio sat on a stool in front of the mirror and turned to Cerina.
He spread his hands and gave a quirky grin. "For now! The others will arrive soon enough I'm sure. You can never start too early in the day when acting."
She smirked at that, pulling down her hood. He brightened a little more, seeming reassured. His gaze ran over her arms and the dirty clothing she had and his smile flickered away in concern. "My friend, would you like a change of clothes? Are you injured?"
"Honestly, clothes would be lovely. And no, I'm fine, it's not mine," she answered while shucking off the blanket.
"Ah! Good, good!" He pointed her to a changing screen and a large green hooded robe roughly suitable for her size. Was his troupe still performing that show? She was tall enough to easily see over the screen and she cast glances his way as she changed. "Whose was it, perchance, m'lady?" He asked.
"Some racketeer-men not too far away." She tossed aside her yellow outer robe, leaving her in her yellow under-tunic and belt, the pouches and packs on it clanking.
"Oh them." At that he nodded and snorted in amusement. "Thank you for small blessings then." They both laughed and then lapsed back into silence as she worked to get some of the gunk out of her hair with her fingers.
Merrcio stared into the middle distance, clearly lost in thought as he looked at the door to his room, a finger tapping on his cheek.
Having pulled the green robe on she pulled the hood up over her hair. "What troubles you friend?" She asked while adjusting her belt underneath the green robe, and leaving the front open enough she could access her gear easily.
He sighed, melodramatic and exasperated. "Oh its just… I feel out of sorts. A bit disjointed. Like a memory is caught in my teeth." He shook his head. "It'll come to me. But! How have you been for the past thirty years?"
She sat on a red armchair across from him, sinking into the fabric and compressing the springs so much they gave a pitiful squeak. "Oh, for me its been a lot less than that… I uh." She paused. Would it be safe to tell him? Her soul pulsed. Yes.
"For me its only been about a day since I saw your younger self," she finished.
He blinked, and then his eyes darkened. "Ah… ah that was it…" He fell silent, his Qi pulsing. His hand on his cheek curled into a fist held to his mouth, clenched tight. A fog seemed to lift from his eyes, a blade sharpened under a whetstone and glinting in the light.
"Cerina, I am sorry… but it seems the memory had escaped me for a moment. I remember our final goodbye now," he mused, his Qi surging. He winced, pain striking his features, and raised a hand to his temple. Breathing deeply for a moment he shook his head and then his Qi steadied. "Best if we do not examine that," he continued with a sigh.
He rolled his shoulders and straightened the hem of his coat. His smile was sardonic. "I will play my part, as I always have."
She nodded. Like at the end of the Doors, he knew. But it was not something you could confront, not a curtain you should peek behind. So be it. They would work around it if necessary. "What do you know about the disaster going on right now?"
He sighed. "The season of evil we're laboring under has been going on for about two months. Fires and explosions over and over again. People fleeing the city on every caravan out of here. If something like last night happens again, we're done." He slumped in his chair, rubbing his head. "But there's worse going on, that most people haven't figured out yet, because they are not as well connected as I am." he said, gesturing sarcastically at himself.
"I am very loosely connected to the Molt-Diviners by a tie of patronage. One of their Experts enjoyed a production I was in about ten years ago, and gave me a page from a manual. Just enough to grasp a fragment of Vitae and ascend," he elaborated.
His hand went towards a box on the vanity beneath his mirror. "Mind if I smoke?"
She shook her head. With the spark of a match and a puff of faint cloves, he continued. "That man, Edric, I'm pretty sure is dead as of last week. One of the fires."
She winced, lips pursing. His expression grew sympathetic. "Yeah. Edric, bless his soul, has not been the only one. I may not have any talent for cultivation, but I keep my eyes open and my ears to the lips of those who know. The Diviners have lost ninety to a hundred Experts in the past two months."
Her stomach dropped. "How many Experts did they have?"
"That's about all of them. Their leader, who I believe was a Great Circle Expert, hasn't been seen since before the fires started and usually makes monthly tours of the city."
Oh no. She recalled the three Experts she had sensed. If all it had besides them was Qi Condensers this city was fucked. She wondered. There'd been no mention of a war in the streets or any kind of conflict and she considered the Qi signature she had felt before that first explosion. "It has to be a traitor, causing all of this."
He nodded. "I believe so. Edric didn't talk about it, but he was growing more and more troubled every time we met after this started, up until he died. Said he'd stopped going to gatherings with his fellows, and started moving where he slept frequently. I think he suspected the traitor was hunting him, specifically."
He put out the stub of his cigarette in an ashtray on the vanity behind him, swiftly pulling out and lighting a second. The two cultivators settled into a contemplative silence. Merrcio seemed to be melancholic, while Cerina was processing all the information she had been given and found out on her own. She took a deep breath, thankful for the denser Qi closer to the Sect compound.
A traitor in the Sect. The Molt-Diviners probably knew who it was, but they had no reason to tell her and at least a handful not to. Did the traitor have a goal besides causing harm? Probably. There was the Flame-Child. Some kind of revered being, possibly housed in the temple not too far from this theater, up on the hill. Which would be supported by the increasing density of Qi as she had gotten closer to the hill. It flowed faster here.
Merrcio rose from his seat and turned away, fingers dancing over the cabinets in his vanity, clearly looking for something.
Advancement was always an option. Their Sect was built around the Flame-Child, perhaps the traitor wished to weaken that being and consume its power? It didn't have to be their first goal though - that could easily be a side benefit from the traitor's perspective. "Merrcio, what is the Flame-Child?"
He was knelt by his vanity, opening a cabinet and met her blind gaze. "Our god. A spirit of incomprehensible power for one such as me. We honor it because it protects this city through the arrays and blesses our lives." He stood, a leatherbound diary in his hands. "It is said by the Molt-Diviners that it is the living molt-child of the Twenty Five Thousand Mile Flame Saint Salamander. It was shed in the distant past and the founder of the Molt-Diviners was given a duty to care for it."
She grunted. Thinking. Fatigue weighed on her neck, her head heavy as a rock.
He flipped open the diary, paging through it. "Ah! Adrianna, that was right," he said, satisfied. She looked at him questioningly. Something tickled the back of her brain. "I've kept some information in here for my own curiosity about Molt-Diviners Edric mentioned. Adrianna was apparently his friend and fiancee."
He closed the book with a snap. "I believe it a good idea to consult this and have my people search for them. As for you, I recommend you rest."
Cerina shook her head. "I'll help look for the Expert. I have my ways of escaping notice and I can rest on my feet."
He frowned, crossing his arms. "I do not say it lightly Cerina, but something troubles you. You are distracted. If we are to succeed and stop this disaster we need you at your best."
He was right. But she wasn't sure she'd be able to give her best in time. She still hadn't made much progress on finding the answer to her own advancement. She could make progress on finding a solution here. Cerina stood up, pressing forward. "I need to go help and find them. I need to talk to them."
"No. My friend, consider that you are an outsider. They have little reason to trust you, hmm?" He said, lips pursing and brow quirked.
"If I present myself in the correct way that will not be a problem," she shot back. His eyebrow rose higher.
"But why must it be you?" He questioned calmly. And that, she couldn't answer. Her mouth hanging open on a response, she suddenly let out a breath and paused. Maybe she could directly offer her foresight, but she didn't need to do that now.
His eyes glimmered and let out a breath himself, and relaxed. She nodded. "I will rest Merrcio. I need to think."
His lips quirked and he gave her a jaunty little salute. "Come find me when you are ready. And I am sorry for pushing you on this."
She waved a hand. "You're forgiven. Thank you."
She settled onto a clear section of hardwood flooring, resting on her shins and knees. Merrcio, standing at the door, waved with his diary. "See you soon!" And then the door closed behind him.
She pulled out a Spirit Stone from the humble bag stored on her hip. In truth it was a P.A.C.K, one of Ajax's creations and possessed a small array-based expansion of its volume, allowing her to hold several pounds of Spirit Stones easily. She grabbed one of the purple stones in both hands and swallowed the rock whole, settling her breathing and drawing energy from it to cultivate her flagging spirit.
In this comforting room, she wondered. Why did she need to go see this Adrianna? It was an urge and felt like her heart dropping into her stomach, a feeling kind of like terror. But she couldn't track down any specific thought as to why she had to do it. And she didn't know the woman at all. It was completely sourceless. She assessed herself, going back throughout the day. When she returned to the moments after she arrived she remembered another sourceless thing within her: the standing wave in her soul.
She couldn't tell if they were connected at all. But if she played by rules of association, by both being sourceless it implied that maybe they were connected. What if they both came from something she couldn't sense? What if they came from her Dao? She already knew some of it - the [Sublime]. Moments of changing a path and the enlightenment that came with those moments in broadest terms. But this understanding was not, had not, been enough. As she knew, something was missing.
She stared at the connection to her soul, examining the standing wave in minute detail. Time passed interminably as she meditated upon it, turned it in her head, touched it like she was performing the exercises that strengthened her soul in the first place. Nothing.
It simply was, oscillating in time to a beat she couldn't hear.
Her cycling was nearly broken by a deep sigh of frustration, but her years of practice held off a deviation. She turned away from the bizarre thing and began to peruse her memories.
Reflecting year by year on what had happened in her life. She was almost seventy now, she realized. She'd vaguely tracked her age, celebrating the season of her birth rather than the day. It mattered as a comfort. Time passed and she was not stuck in a pointless circle. But that was all.
A towheaded stagehand popped open the door and peered through to look at her. Her attention noted them but did not deviate.
Throughout her life she had been loyal to the Clan. Throughout her life she had changed the lives of others in ways both large and small through her words and instruction. This was the method. This was how she wanted to achieve her goals and it was the most satisfying method she had. Mia in particular - she was the first time it had fully crystalized. It had been fun.
She looked back at her time with Senior Sister Ferenike, brief as it had been. Qinglong Shu and her approach to Understanding, acting as the other member of the Three - as she'd started to identify the three of them who were seeking more. She thought of the Elders and the other members of the Devils, large and small.
She saw Merrcio coming through the door in a rush, his frown carved deep into his face. He approached while she focused.
She thought of her Legatus. How would Rina, now that she had been cursed, fare in the Trials? Cerina hoped fervently for her survival - the 302nd needed her vision and drive. She had become its heart. It would not be the 302nd under a different Legate. What would they do when she died? That thought caused her spirit to curl, mood darkening, and yet it twinged in her mind.
Was something related to Rina holding her back?
She did not know, and did not have time to think on these feelings as she let go and looked up at him. Buzzing under her skin, her reserves were about two thirds full. She did not have time to gain more.
"We've found her, but," he sighed explosively, and nursed a red bruise growing on his forehead. His bangs shimmered with small amber droplets. "She called me a traitor's crony and then threw a bottle at my head."
"That was a good bottle of Thousand Year Nostalgic Apple Brandy too," he grumbled, wiping at his forehead with a rag pulled off his vanity and wincing every time he hit the bruise.
Cerina's brain crashed to a stop. Traitor's crony. Merrcio had not said he'd confirmed Edric was dead. He'd called Edric a dilettante and that he moved where he slept. She made a leap of intuition.
"Merrcio," she said. "Did Edric have a Vitae flavor like the taste of fine drinks and the sounds of lutes in his aura?"
He looked at her, puzzled. "I'm not particularly good at sensing flavors of Vitae. I work with illusions, Cerina. But he did like both of those things."
"Hmm," she hummed. Did she tell him now or not?
What would Katha do? Going with her impulse felt right.
She sighed. "I sensed someone prior to the explosion in the west district. They felt like a Molt-Diviner, and their aura had a taste of fine drinks and the sound of lutes. All twisted into spiteful malice."
His face went white. "You're implying he is the traitor." His expression soured. "Prove it to me."
"It would take intimate knowledge of the array network to circumvent it and direct the Vitae within to cause these cascading failures. Causing this much death amongst the Experts of a Sect through sabotage is unusual, and again speaks to knowledge."
She continued. "As a sect where members are able to communicate with each other through secret methods, the Molt-Diviners likely know who the traitor is - even if someone died to learn their identity, they could transmit it in their dying breath. Adrianna called you a traitor's crony, which points directly at Edric, because I can also deduce he was the only Molt-Diviner to visit you according to your own words." She paused, thoughts buzzing as she organized everything in her brain.
"It is entirely reasonable for a loyal member or a traitor to become more and more cagey as a crisis proceeds. It does not make sense for a loyal member to completely separate from his fellows and change where he sleeps frequently, not if he was trying to protect himself from a traitor."
When she finished Merrcio took an angry breath, his eyes narrowing as he approached her. Her Qi was calm and steady, pressing against his own. "Being drunk does not erase or change an Expert's memories. There is a reason she said what she said," she said quietly.
His response died in his throat. Then he turned and went for a closet on the far side of the room, ripping it open and pulled out a long and narrow dueling sword sheathed in a leather sword-belt. He strapped it on and then turned to her. "I will be seeing this with my own eyes. Let's go," he said and marched towards the door.
She followed. Tight lipped and hand on his sword's hilt, he led her out of the building and through the city streets out of the section at the Sect's foot. And yet, under this tense atmosphere, Cerina could feel the wave in her soul growing taller and taller. He was walking the path and now it was up to him to finish it.
The streets of the city were almost empty, the fleeting presence of people overshadowed by the columns of smoke which still rose from the western district. Dark black, they still glowed with flickers of eerie green light. The air was still choked by ash, turning the air almost yellow and stinging her Eye. He led her deep into the eastern section, and she grew curious as they traveled towards the long burnt scar torn through the district.
The first indication she had of something odd was when she saw a crowd beginning to gather down the street. Then she heard someone sobbing, obscured by the people. Her pace picked up, a sourceless vitality filling her body. Gently, so as not to startle them too badly, she pressed her Qi against the bodies of the mortals in front of her. They moved, glancing back and parting around this strange green robed and hooded figure of inhuman height.
They fled towards either side of the street, some ducking into buildings or fleeing out of sight. But many remained behind, leaning on porch railings and peeking around corners. Their parting revealed a sobbing lump curled up in the gunk filled gutter of the street several dozen meters down the way. It looked like she'd tripped into it, robes tangled around her feet. At the moment the black haired woman was trying to drink from a bottle, though most of it just got onto her rat's nest of hair.
"I wanna wring his fucking neck…" the woman groaned, voice hoarse. "Turning the Words against us," she sobbed again and rolled over, her face in the sun, revealing a bandaged wound on her face, covering most of her left cheek and eye.
Cerina's shadow fell across the woman. "G'way! Away! In my light…," she growled and clutched at her bottle, Qi lashing around her wildly. It did not move Cerina's own Qi, rebuffed by her solid wall of calm. It was clear the woman was spiritually weakened as well, her Qi not responding to her will correctly.
Cerina knelt beside the Expert, giving her back her light, and looked at her. Drenched in sweat, blue eyes dim, hair a rat's nest of tangles. It looked like she was grieving, her honor and face in tatters. A woman who had given up. Hope, or anger, might fix that. She reached out to the woman. When she touched her the lady flinched, light returning to her blue eyes. Cerina didn't smile when the drunk looked up at her, but she did nod. "I know where he went," she said.
The woman looked at her like she was speaking gibberish. She grabbed Cerina by the collar in a sudden blur and hauled herself into the Devil's face. "Who the fuck 're you?" She slurred.
"Name's Cerina!" she answered. The buzzing in her brain was getting louder and louder, the wave accelerating.
"Ehhhh? And where you come from? You're with that traitor's crony, so you're here to end it all?" The woman growled, waving her bottle violently at Merrcio who was standing a few paces away.
He came to her rescue then. "I'm no crony of Edric's." His sword creaked as he squeezed the hilt. "I am here as a matter of pride, seeking proof of my own eyes that he betrayed me."
Adrianna laughed and spread her arms, letting Cerina go. "Well look around you, idiot!" She took a deep swig. "He's betrayed all of us, and mauled my face as a gift!"
"Fucker!" She yelled, lurching to her feet and swinging her arms about in fury, nearly cleaving Cerina's head from her shoulders. Merrcio backed away, raising his hands.
"Senior Adrianna," Cerina said, and then kowtowed. "Please. This one can help you gain vengeance."
Adrianna loomed over her. "Ohho? And why is that, little girl? Why do you care?" She was starting to become more coherent, focusing her disdain on Cerina.
"This humble cultivator was sent here as a trial and penance by Heaven, and Merrcio is my friend."
Adrianna paused. "Look at me, strange girl," she demanded. Cerina craned her neck, not raising her head too far. "Heavens, you look weird," she muttered. But a realization seemed to strike the woman.
"How do you know where he is?" She asked.
"This one's Eye can see Vitae and discern its innermost qualities," she answered. Adrianna's as it happened, was ash and lake water with a deep well of earth underpinning it. So close. She just needed to bolster Adrianna a little more, weld together the fractures in her spirit for just a little while.
The older woman's Qi pressed upon her, like being slowly crushed under a boulder - no wonder Mia didn't like this - and Cerina let out a breath. She let the Expert examine her. Then it suddenly tightened like a vise, pinching her head beneath pitiless weight. Cerina gasped, and her face was mushed back into the ground.
***
Priestess of the Inner Chamber Adrianna Rossi gazed down onto the huge golden girl kowtowing in the dirt before her. Her eye ached, an effort of will suppressing the horrific muscle twitches her nerve damage had caused. It was an effort to speak without a slur even when sober. Her body felt weak and nauseous from infection. And she hated.
And now that hate had an outlet. "You will take me to him, then," the Expert commanded. Her head was throbbing from the pain and the relief. Here she had been raging at her circumstances, unable to enact her vengeance, drowning in impotent sorrow. And yet her desperate prayers must have reached the Heavens and the great lords above must have seen fit to bestow her with a chance to slake her vengeance.
They couldn't save the Flame-Child without its Pearl, its metaphysical heart and Sacred Treasure, but maybe she could extract her pound of flesh in the name of Heaven and restore her honor. Perhaps something could be saved of her Sect's honor and knowledge, if they acted on this chance.
"Stand back," Adrianna ordered the two gnats in front of her with a wave of her hand. They obeyed, the one eyed freak scuttling back unnaturally in her kowtow. The theater-man kneeled where he stood. Amusing. Adrianna put them from her mind and turned, gazing up at the Sect Temple. With an immense inhale she began to cycle according to the Lake-Bottom Flagellant Scripture.
The wind rippled and the earth began to tremble. The alcohol in her blood was swept up and separated. It swirled through her body, absorbing the impurities that had spread from her head wound. With a hard exhale she spat the disgusting fluid like a giant Archer Fish, blasting off the roof corner of a building. Many of the mortals still present cowered in fear and awe.
Pitiful. She was only getting started. With her outstretched hand she called to the heart of power for all Molt-Diviners: the Words of the Founder, the massive array network built above and below the city, and through it the Flame-Child. Now she used that burning power to locate a specific object.
A window shattered high up on the Temple of the Flame-Child and a black blur raced through the air like a descending arrow. It landed in her hand with a boom, the shockwave passing through her robes and raising a wave of dust up and down the street. The mortals that remained scattered.
Good.
Now was not the time for mortals.
Her staff in hand, thrumming with the power of its arrays - marks that tied it to the great network, she looked back at the girl. "Go. Quickly," she commanded.
The girl nodded, straightening from her kowtow. The theater dandy stood as well, staring at the both of them. But he knew what was good for him and did not linger, following the girl as she took off at a run. Adrianna followed, her slower steps eating up the distance to keep up with both youths. The golden girl cut quickly around the Sect Hill, leaping onto the rooftops and then beyond them, Wind Vitae swirling around her, her head swiveling unnaturally.
What an odd creature. The golden skin niggled at long forgotten memories of Adrianna's. It was not important though - killing a bastard who betrayed everyone who cared about him to reach above his station was her duty now. It took them a handful of minutes to reach the northern district.
She considered reaching out to Matteo and Carlo through the Words, the only remaining Experts in the city. But they would not matter in this battle, when they could be better used holding back the fires. And this was her final test, her guilt she had to assuage. "Girl! What use are you to me?" She asked.
The theater dandy was an illusionist, she knew that, but so weak as to be almost irrelevant. This girl stood in the 12th Rank of the First Realm - perhaps she mattered. Huffing for breath, the girl answered. "I bear an extremely powerful curse in my Eye, which can weaken him by nearly three small realms. I can also see briefly ahead into the future."
Ho? It seems Adrianna was doubly blessed today. How useful. "Good enough," she said.
Even better a moment later they reached a shrine with a warded tunnel entry and the girl descended. Adrianna took the lead, examining the wards on the door. They were modified, of course. But only very slightly, cutting the alarm from the network and pointing it elsewhere, while modifying it to activate on any access instead of the normal unauthorized access rules.
Ah! How was she going to get into this? "Girl, where is he?"
"His Vitae lingers on the door and down the tunnel, but I'm not sure. We will have to get closer," the cyclops answered.
Adrianna sighed and forced down the urge to scratch at her wounded eye. If she was whole, she could find him herself. The Molt-Diviner Sect was not well versed in Vitae detection arts that did not use the Words of the Founder - but Edric had known she knew such an art, gained in some of her own adventures outside of Ambervale.
Never an ill-spent youth. But here she was, unable to use the art that would get her to him faster. Fine. She'd beaten him in arraywork before, time to do it again. Given the alarm was pointed away from the normal network it was probably pointed to a dummy array tuned to make a specific kind of alert. That kind of setup allowed you to be warned without maintaining an active Vitae link that an attacker could track you down through.
This was the most likely, though she had no proof. It could also be linked to a trap. "Girl, do you see any concentrations of Fire Vitae in the system nearby?" Adrianna couldn't query the system, Edric might be paying attention to that.
The girl shook her head. "No, the spread of Vitae is typical for the network in its current state, based on what I've seen."
Hmm. She could treat it like a tripwire then. Taking deep breaths she quickly reached in and pinched the connection with her Qi, quickly swapping the connection on the alarm from this door to her, her staff thrumming as she worked. She'd have to maintain it and in her current state that wouldn't be fun, but that wouldn't matter for long. She pushed the door open. "Golden girl, you first. Dandy, walk beside me."
The three cultivators descended into the dark and dank tunnels. They were easily wide enough for two people to walk abreast and were tall enough the golden girl had significant headroom. Along the right hand wall was the feed pipe for this shrine, forged from array inscribed red copper. The walls were all granite, pulled up from a quarry outside the city.
The tunnel was long and murky, the only light from arrays shining on the pipes. There were others, but again, touching anything down here might alert the traitor. They'd have to deal until it was time to go loud. And frankly, she didn't care about these two's discomfort in the slightest. Discomfort was temporary.
Guilt? That'd haunt her to her grave.
Eventually the path began to dip as they neared the lake and then suddenly dropped into a much steeper stairway. The faint hum of array-pumps cut through the sound of their footsteps down the smooth stairs. They arrived, finally, at the ring tunnel which circled the lake. This ring tunnel was dominated by a huge collection pipe that ran around and drew from the lake. The shine's feed pipe descended into the floor and crossed the ring tunnel to connect with the collection pipe.
Unfortunately, this is where the tunnel system became a lot more complex because dozens of chambers branched off from the ring tunnel alongside the shrine feed-tunnels. Cultivation chambers, maintenance workshops, guard posts when they had the personnel. Dozens and dozens of rooms she would have to search one by one, at least normally.
The alarm pointed to a little array-inscribed bell set up on top of the main circulation pipe. She turned to the girl. "Where is he?" She demanded. The unusual girl scanned, her head pivoting unnaturally.
"Hmm," her brow furrowed. Her right arm lifted and pointed. Adrianna ordered the group forward, stalking down the tunnels in silence. The golden girl ignored the workshops and sleeping quarters they passed, walking in a deep silence. The dandy's shoes clicked and his sword's hilt creaked in his hand, drawn and ready.
The lights filled the air with gloom and the sound of flowing water muffled any sounds of their prey. The first trap was a simple thing - a pressure triggered burst of steam from one of the shrine feed pipes as they were crossing over it. Adrianna caught it, swallowing it up with her Scripture as it blossomed out of the pipe.
How nostalgic to use these arts originally meant for maintenance to tear down obstacles between her and a traitor.
Edric did not stand idle of course after the first trap went off, calling on the Words to throw power at her and her group. Green flames of failing arrays, boiling black water bursting from the walls, and sudden pressure changes assaulted them. The dandy was nearly crushed against the wall by a spray of water and flames, damaging his left hand in the process. But they survived and forced their way through, her knowledge and staff dispelling the traps. All she had to do was follow them - because she could sense him with the Words now as he exerted himself so close to her.
Even better, facing off against him like this was realigning her Vitae with her will, her hatred finally finding a worthy foe as his assaults of steam and fire and boiling water redoubled. She carved a path of ruin through a thousand years of history to reach him and felt no remorse. If he died, she would pay a thousand more.
"Edric!" Her voice shook the dark chamber in which the traitor meditated upon the delicate pink-white pearl cradled in his hands. The Sacred Treasure glowed like a lamp, and illuminated the woman like a snarling dragon when she exploded through the steel door of his chamber in a howling steam explosion.
Adrianna struck out and her iron staff met his arms with a clang of metal. Edric pushed away from the blow, sliding across the floor and spreading his arms to disperse force, revealing dark iron bracers on his wrists. His signature weapons now, stolen from their Leader and Master, her grandfather Giovanni Rossi.
"Adrianna," he growled through his damaged throat, part of his neck twisted by a knot of bruising and burns. A gift she'd given him during the same fight he had mauled her face.
But all of that fell away before the Pearl in his hand. "You still had it…," she gasped, shocked to her pillars to see the actual heart of the Flame-Child in front of her again.
With a flick of his hair and a huffed, "Of course," he slotted the Pearl of the Flame-Child into his right bracer and power invaded him. His body swelled with blood thickened by Water Vitae, muscles beginning to bulge, and water dripped from his mouth.
The former dilettante leapt forward, clawing at her staff with hands clad in blades of water. His strikes lashed against her defense, sheering flakes away from her staff in clouds of sparks. She circled backwards, herding him with her greater reach, but swiftly losing the exchange of strength. He felt like he had forged a fourth or even a fifth pillar in the Second Realm now.
Had he really stolen the Pearl just to advance, and killed their Leader when he tried to stop this traitor? No. She knew how he held to his grudges - yet she did not know what words had passed between him and other members of the sect to make Edric hate so many in the Inner Chamber. Somedays it was only her and her grandfather that he had spoken to.
She refocused as the traitor stumbled, his flesh graying and flaking away suddenly, and Adrianna caught a glimpse of both the girl and the theater dandy in the doorway behind her. Edric coughed a stream of brackish water and struck the wall with a roar. The blast of stones and razor sharp water launched at the girl, her eye almost glowing in the dimness as she went down with the shrapnel.
The theater dandy dove to the side and took cover behind the remains of the doorframe, a fraction of the Vitae in the air beginning to move under his command. His face was resolved like a man meeting his death, a heavy weight of betrayal in the set of his grit teeth, clenching his damaged hand around his sword. How admirable.
In retaliation Adrianna took a breath and launched blasts of force and pressure at Edric, her blows deftly dodged. Yet, she had hope now. Hope beyond relief from guilt and recovering scraps of knowledge. It stoked her rage even higher, beyond whys or wherefores, beyond mercy or forgiveness. Edric would be beaten to death by her hands and she would return the Pearl to their god. With a deafening battlecry she launched blasts of fire thick as magma at the traitor, chasing him out of this room and into the next - a simple bedroom.
The power of the Lake-Bottom Flagellant Scripture laid in setting the field, drawing on the Words and the Vitae thrown about by their techniques. Every blow she flung his way was meant to kill him, to end this quickly before he turned her strength against her. But so long as he could react properly to her, he would draw from the Vitae left in their wake. They needed to distract him
The First Realm dandy could not get close to the fight without being vaporized by the force, instead circling and waiting for an opportunity, but he seemed to realize the problem as Adrianna and Edric tore into each other and demolished this bedroom. "Edric!" He cried. "Am I to assume all your interest in the arts and performances, all that passion, was just fakery?" His voice was steady, carefully tinged by the pain of his wound. He coughed from the smoke in the air.
Edric's face twisted into a snarl and he shot a blast of rippling water at the dandy for his trouble, the attack twisted away by her mastery and the dandy left unharmed. But that cost a step and Edric's decaying body slowed him further. A wave of glowing stones rose from the floor and slammed him into the wall over his bed, smashing him through into an array workshop. The inscription chisels and brushes were shredded, paints cast like multi-color blood on the walls, and Vitae burned in the air. In the center sat a plinth and all along the hemispherical walls arrays glowed.
Adrianna scanned the room. A secret workshop hidden behind the false wall. A good place to trap him with only one entrance. The dandy was behind her. But where had the girl gone? She turned slightly, her one eye sweeping and saw a scrap of yellow fabric peeking out from amongst the rubble behind her. The girl had fallen up against a wall in the front room, her Eye still and blank but still pointed at the traitor. Dead? Maybe not, but out of the fight.
Disappointing.
Edric emerged from the rubble bloodied and snarling. "You know, fiancee," he growled. He shook out his coat and re-settled his stance. "Given how you helped me start all of this, it's fitting that you are the final obstacle to my revenge against everyone beneath me," he spat this with such vitriol the water in his mouth boiled.
There was a bang, a sword against the wall. "Am I just chopped liver to you Edric?" The dandy grumbled as he limped inside the workshop. His Vitae whispered in his footsteps, incredibly subtle as he stumbled forward.
"Yes," the traitor answered. "You were a useful method to delve into the connection of the Words to the mortals of this city. Nothing more." His brow was twitching, voice cold and half-drowned. Rage and disdain in equal measure he made to strike again, thick flames of his own being conjured.
Adrianna reached out with a clawed hand and yanked, conjuring a mass of benthic pressure to smash him down into the floor. Forced to his knees, Edric drew on the Pearl again. With a groan and grit teeth, he strained and slammed his fist into an array. A chain of them erupted in green light and sealed the room in a whirling gyre of Water and green Flame.
It scraped at the floors and the ceiling, chips of stone ripped up and turned inwards as burning blades. It started to churn towards them all, an inevitable wall of death. Raising his hands he pulled a stream of water from that wall and blasted it at Adrianna. She was forced to respond by raising one hand off her staff and unleashing a beam of flames, steam billowing out over the room. Merrcio disappeared into the scalding mist, becoming only a darting shadow.
Force against force the Experts dueled with the powers of the universe. Adrianna knew very quickly she would lose. But she had to survive - she knew what the dandy, that Merrcio, was doing. She just had to hold for a little longer, forcing Edric to keep all of his attention on her as she fought with him over control of the Vitae in the room. "So it was said in the seventh year of our lord's Duty…" she whispered to herself, reciting the Scripture of the Flame-Child's Wrath in her mind. Her first pillar thrummed.
She began to glow, starting from her chest and spreading to her eyes. Tears of fiery blood flowed from her ruined eye, searing her innards as it twisted and bubbled in her guts like a nest of molten glass. The Flame-Child heard her cry for power, the Words of the Founder turning finally against the traitor as his sorcery was undone bit by bit. Her staff glowed cherry red, keening as it shook with the strain. Yet, even as she drew on divine power, she was losing.
Step by step Edric moved towards her, his attack pressing deeper and deeper. The tipping point came suddenly, her weight slipping and her body beginning to fail. With a sudden snap she lost and dove aside. The burst of water and burning rock ripped through her and she screamed in pain this time. The burst then failed, tapering off and leaving Edric heaving for breath as his muscles spasmed. Adrianna was laid out on the floor on her side. Was that enough time? She did not know. But she would put an end to this sorry tale, even if it killed her.
With her still functional arm she lashed out, five lights on her fingertips. If he had been whole perhaps he may have had the strength to dodge. Yet, he was withered. The first blast of light took him in the side, spinning him. The next three stitched a course of ruin up his back, sending him tripping and stumbling. The final shot slammed into the back of his head and smashed him to the floor.
They both groaned, stunned and crippled with injuries. But Edric was the first to lift his head. Straining with his bloodied fingers he scrambled hand over hand, wild eyed, and then stumbled to his feet with coat all askew. "No… no! I will not see my Grudges unfulfilled!" He raced towards the edge of the gyre, only a few steps away now, and it parted around him. He sprinted as fast as he could the door.
And then he smashed into a wall, the false door exploding into steam and flecks of color, while the real door wavered back into visibility like a mirage just a few handspans away. Bricks collapsed on top of the traitor, the hole widened by the impact, and the stunned Expert was left sprawled partly through the opening across from the golden girl. The theater man crawled on hands and knees, so exhausted of vital force that his skin hung loose and gray like a corpse.
Both hands on the pommel of his sword, Merrcio slammed it into a wound on the traitor's back. Edric jerked, gurgling and growling weakly. And then Merrcio collapsed beside his former friend. The traitor gasped, once, twice. Spasming like a man possessed. With his final dregs of life he ripped the Pearl out of his bracer. "Flame-Child, I who bear your heart commands you. Feed your Master!" And then he swallowed the Treasure.
As Adrianna watched in horror, she remembered a phrase she rather liked: The Earth always reached for the Heavens. And as Edric reached, trying to draw from the Pearl, he overstepped. Water turned cutting and suddenly his flesh split along his belly, boiling blood and dark Water Vitae exploding out of him in a pillar and throwing him into the ceiling with a bone cracking thud.
Something more broke then, a critical support finally giving way. Cracks spread across the ceiling and stones the size of their torsos began to fall, a huge collapse erupting in the middle of the city. The fighters saw daylight and flame through the falling rock, and then darkness.
God this omake and every major character in it got away from me. But I have just all around had fun! I didn't expect the two arguments Merrcio and Cerina had but I am also very very pleased that they happened. Now to cap off their character arc in the next omake.
I also didn't expect Adrianna to usurp the end from me, but it just makes sense for Cerina's Dao if she fades into the background during this fight. Its more important for these three people to fight it out, after she guides them together.
And, Cerina's got her own fight coming.
[Words: 13570]
