Well, she knew of a Solar named Lyta who was somewhere between loose cannon and mad dog, so if (let's be honest, it's pretty much a when with the amount of story time spent on her) the situation comes up, deciding the best course is to take her down while she's at her weakest as a noob and free up the shard to go to someone with their head hopefully screwed on a bit better would not be OOC, as long as Alina feels she has a reasonable chance of success. If Lyta goes after her specifically, well, that would probably do it too, because the only thing worse than a rookie Solar with a mad on for you is an experienced Solar extra mad because you escaped an earlier attempt.
That's what Lyta would have become in a world where alina didn't exist, and Lyta had to fight her way out of the Cloister and then live, grow, and develop for several decades. We're talking about what Lyta is like now, not several decades in the future.
So granted that's information Alina may not have - depends on what she knew in her past life.
On the other hand, the Lyta that she may become is well sowed and tended since a young age indeed, and has only grown more into that shape since Alina met her.
On the other hand, the Lyta that she may become is well sowed and tended since a young age indeed, and has only grown more into that shape since Alina met her.
I was finishing cleaning out some guttering on the roof of the Hall of Sextes Jylis when I saw Crane leaving the training room we used. For a moment I was confused – was he expecting me to be there today? Hadn't I just had a coaching session with him last night?
The masters had decided at the start of the summer that while I would be ready for many of their lessons after Calibration, actual coaching on the Earth Dragon style would have to wait until I was a little older. I could hardly protest too strongly without proving their concerns about my maturity correct, so I was stomaching it for now.
Then Lyta emerged and I felt foolish. Naturally, I wasn't the only one he was providing lessons to. I had noticed that she wasn't particularly in evidence in the evenings… most likely he was teaching us on alternate nights. It wasn't as if we sought each other out, and the other students in our dorm were careful not to form any strong attachment to either of us, in case our dislike reached a point that would be problematic for them.
Lest anyone think that Crane had found an excellent way to spend his evenings with impressionable girls, he had been a complete professional during my lessons and I see no reason to believe he was any different with Lyta.
As if some hidden sense told the man that he was being observed, he turned and looked up at me. I raised one hand in salutation.
"What are you doing up there? Showing off?" asked Lyta, her attention drawn by the teacher's.
I shook my head. "If I fall and hit the ground, the ground will feel it more than I do. That's not necessarily the case for everyone." An Air-aspect would land effortlessly on their feet, of course.
Crane laughed. "Well, try not to fall. If you hurt the ground here then someone will need to make it good." He gestured. "But if you would come down safely, please…" Then, raising his voice. "All first-year students, I have an announcement!"
I descended with slightly exaggerated care and we were quickly joined by our other three peers from the first-year classes.
"There will be something in the nature of a field trip shortly," Master Crane informed us. "By tradition, the first-year students of the Cloister of Wisdom put on a performance for the monks. A chance to show off what you have learned and so that the teachers here can have outside opinions on your readiness for further classes."
A performance? I felt a familiar dread. "What sort of performance?"
Lyta hid a smirk that suggested that she knew exactly what I was concerned about.
"It is called the dragon dance," Crane assured me. "Though the term dance is meant very loosely. To be more accurate it is a melee among you, to show off your martial arts. Those struck down or knocked outside the designated area are eliminated, and the event continues until only one participant remains, the… paramount dragon, you could say."
I relaxed slightly. That sounded much more tolerable.
"Is there a prize?"
"Yes. Two prizes in fact. The last mortal eliminated and the final victor are both granted a direct coaching session with our dominie. It's a rare honour, most of her time is invested in running the Cloister and instructing the masters."
I had seen Repentant Blossom of Winter since her welcoming speech at the start of the year, but only in passing. The other teachers spoke of the Air-aspected mistress of the Cloister with reverence and I knew enough to recognise that she was a master of Earth Dragon style… and I would assume Air Dragon style as well.
"Those of you considering a career within the Immaculate Order may also be able to catch the eye of future mentors," continued Crane. "Alas, the Paragons will be absent as they customarily convene with the Mouth of Peace to provide her with spiritual guidance at the end of the year. However, a number of immaculate masters will be present, and grand master Ragara Myrrun is currently resident at the Palace Sublime."
He wasn't so unsubtle as to give me a little nod at that, but the meaning was implicit. If he was to be believed then I had the grand master's attention already. This was a chance to cement his interest… if I wanted it.
The Paragons were the council of five senior monks who led the Immaculate Order and advised the Mouth of Peace, who actually governed it. The politics and administrivia of the latter office were felt to be detrimental to spiritual development and thus it was the Paragons - one for each Immaculate Dragon - who were the most revered leaders.
"Please consider that they will not only be judging your prowess, but also your conduct. No one wishes to be known for training a student who goes on to embarrass them by showing poor judgement in how they apply the lessons." Master Crane didn't let his gaze settle on any one person. "We'll walk to the Palace in three days and there will be a practice session that evening. That way you'll have at least some chance to get any… unfortunate impulses out of your system before the actual dance of dragons the next day."
"I assume that normal sparring rules apply?" asked Lyta.
"If you feel that gouging the eyes out of one of your fellow students will get you any sort of favour from the monks at the Sublime Palace then I can only assume that you haven't been paying attention," the teacher observed drily. "Alina if you would be so good as to give me a moment or two of your time before you go back to climbing on the roof again?"
"Of course, master."
Lyta mouthed the words with me, behind Crane's back, but put an obsequious expression on her face. Dear me, was she jealous that I was getting some of his attention? I wondered if she knew that she wasn't the only one getting evening lessons from him. Probably, I hadn't particularly advertised it but nor had I kept it a secret.
"I gather," Crane murmured, keeping his voice down as we left the Hall, "That you have concerns about General Arada's campaign in the north-east?"
Had Ayama mentioned it, I wondered. Or had someone been eavesdropping on us? Then again, perhaps Crane just made the same logical deduction as the other Tepet. He did spend a far bit of time with me, more than most of the teachers.
"I can't claim to be especially well informed," I admitted, "But it seems a rather large number of my relatives are going to be a very long way from home at a time when the Realm's resources are being particularly stretched. If something does go wrong…"
He grimaced. "It's a military campaign. I can't remember one that has ever avoided having something go wrong on one level or another. But General Arada is an exceptionally able commander, Alina. And he has fought Anathema before."
I hope that my momentary pause successfully convinced him that I was surprised – by the confirmation if not the mention of them. "Then it's true? The Haltans have allied themselves with one of the Anathema?"
"It is true," Crane agreed. "And if they are not defeated quickly, we may face a repeat of the War against Jochim – years of fighting to subdue growing armies pledged to a warlord of uncanny power. There's a reason Arada was chosen. The entire Realm is looking for him to repeat his former victory. But you needn't feel he's fighting alone. I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread this around – or if you absolutely must, please keep from telling anyone that you learned this from me – but the Mouth of Peace has asked our Order to send a substantial number of monks to join the Tepet army."
I frowned in thought. "They'll be quite some way behind."
"Alas, yes. But a comparatively small party can travel much faster than four legions, and take a more direct route. Within a week there will be thirty monks, five of them Dragon-Blooded, setting out to support your House's legions." He patted me on the shoulder. "Some of them will be watching the dragon's dance, so please, show them your best. You want them to have a good impression of House Tepet, don't you?"
I nodded in agreement. "I'll do my best, master."
"Your best is very good indeed." He turned towards another hall. "And now, having informed two halls of the dragon's dance, I have to deliver it over again and then once more. At times I do wish the dominie would agree to quarter all of you first year students in the same hall."
"But then who would keep the other halls clean and tidy?" I asked.
"The Hall of Daana'd doesn't have any first years this year and they seem to be managing. Go finish the gutters, Alina."
The Palace Sublime looked little like the Cloister in some ways, with two grand towers flanking a lower central keep, but it also had no outer wall and the gardens were similarly diverse. For every monk I saw hard at work maintaining the temple or handling some of the inevitable paperwork, I saw another meditating or training. It wasn't hard to believe that there was something of an influx at the moment.
The site of the dragon dance was a pentagonal platform of stone. I was fairly sure that it would have been easier to make it square but everything had to be symbolically in fives, I guess. As it was about three feet high, falling off might be quite painful for a mortal.
I don't want to act as if I think they're fragile little butterflies, but I wasn't going to throw one of them off too hard.
Firstly, it would likely be considered unnecessarily cruel – and just plain unnecessary – by the observers. And secondly, I had to live with them for the next few years. In my experience, it's a lot easier to do that if you're not a horrible person that no one likes.
I can only assume that Lyta reserved her venom just for myself and maybe a few others or I can't imagine she'd have stuck it out at Root and Reed School all the way to graduation. She's stubborn, but not that stubborn.
I grabbed hold of Cathak Karin's arm and sidestepped, before twisting. She made a pretty good attempt at breaking out before I had her in position, but it wasn't good enough and I was able to apply enough pressure to force her to her knees. "Give?" I asked, conversationally.
"I… yes," she admitted through gritted teeth and I released her immediately, stepping away and looking out for anyone else trying to blindside me.
It was just the practice match really; Master Crane was here to supervise but the other monks were politely avoiding us. I imagine that one of the reasons for this little tradition was to let us let off some steam, and the practice match would likely yield some grudges to make the actual dance of dragons tomorrow a little more exciting.
Yes, I ascribe suspicious motives to basically every tradition I come across. It's surprising how often they bear out.
As it happened, I did have a moment of breathing space, which surprised me as I'd seen Verdant Road finish off an opponent a moment ago. It had been hard to miss as he hadn't been considerate about throwing one of our Exalted co-students off the platform with considerable force.
When I saw why the Cynis wasn't trying to take me out, my lips pressed together sharply. Charitably, Salan was having trouble with Lyta and Verdant Road had chosen to help his friend and relative.
Less charitably, they were ganging up two to one – and against a mortal.
If that happened again tomorrow, I doubted their tactic would gain much support. Yes, it was pragmatic. Yes, it was a demonstration of teamwork. But it was also sheer brute force.
The only thing that kept me from piling in and giving Verdant Road someone to fight that he didn't have a profound advantage over was that Lyta would probably object to my barging in.
On the other hand, there wasn't really anyone else to fight right now unless I broke into one of the other impromptu duels among the students. Everyone else was mostly paired off.
Did I really want to rescue Lyta, of all people?
It was a serious wrench, but I decided that it would be petty not to. However annoyed she might be, if she wound up out of tomorrow's performance because those two battered her into submission, she'd resent that even more.
I wove past Cathak Uzuki, who was giving Ayama a run for her money, and headed for the trio.
For the life of me, I don't know if that hesitation on my part made a difference. I hope not, but as with so many things, it's impossible to say.
Salan tried for a solid hit to Lyta's face and her arm snapped up, catching his fist and yanking him away. I almost applauded the move, but that wasn't all that was happening.
Golden light sprang up around Lyta, first a glittering halo, then a swelling aura. In between two heartbeats, a brand blazoned itself upon the girl's brow. And the anima coalesced into the form of a tiger, its great paws following her hands as they continued their arc.
Salan's arm reached full extension and kept going. The rest of him didn't, and his shoulder disintegrated.
The good news was that he probably wasn't in very much pain. The bad news was that the reason was that Lyta followed ripping his arm off immediately by driving her other hand into his ribs and ripping his heart out.
The boy didn't scream, he barely had time and I think his last moments must have been utter shock. But Verdant Road did plenty of screaming for him and his anima banner roared to life, flames so ferocious that I veered aside from them.
The Fire-aspect lunged at Lyta, trying to grapple her and pin her in place. It was a brave move and a tactically wise move – his anima banner would burn her and if she was immobilised them someone else might be able to get in a killing blow. Whether he was actually thinking that, I have no idea. Perhaps he was maddened by rage at Salan's death, perhaps he had visions of being a hero.
It didn't matter, because Lyta reversed his attempt to seize hold of her and heaved him up above her head before bringing him savagely down on her shoulder, ignoring the flames that licked at her head and clothes.
There was a brutal cracking noise as the Terrestrial Exalted's spine snapped in several places… but that apparently was insufficient for Lyta and she raised Verdant Road again before bringing him down onto the stone fighting platform.
Head first.
The stone survived, but his skull didn't.
There were shouts, screams. Just about all of those on the stage with me were basically children. Fifteen or sixteen, never really exposed to real violence.
In no sense ready for the visceral revelation that a Celestial Exalt could dismantle a Terrestrial Exalt as easily as the Dragon-Blood could a mortal.
"Get away from her," someone shouted authoritatively. For a moment I thought it was Crane, but when I looked around for him, our teacher was not in evidence
Some of the students obeyed that order but others froze.
I was neither sheep nor goat. I went for her.
It would take time for the monks to respond and time for the other students to flee. The way that we had been given space earlier was now biting us firmly in the posterior – only a handful of the Palace Sublime's defenders were actually in a position to do anything.
Lyta saw me coming and she grinned wildly. "Look down on me now!" she shrieked and went for me with hands like tiger claws.
The essence of a Solar Exalt runs deep and strong. Meeting it head on, even if I was of a higher essence tier, would be foolhardy, I thought. Technique would have to serve in the place of raw power.
The older girl wasn't just Exalted, she was in its first rush. She had more power than she knew what to do with. Once the adrenaline rush was over, she'd be more manageable, but right now…
Her first kick barely missed staving in my ribs as she turned the clawing strikes of her hands into feints… and then leapt up and somersaulted, tearing away one shoulder of my robe and leaving a trail of blood behind it.
Shallow, yes. I closed the wound with barely a thought. But she had first blood.
When she came down, I was on her. I met her next attack with essence running through my arms. Like dragon scales my bunched forearms deflected hers and kept those deadly hands away from me.
I hopped up into a crane kick that caught her beneath the ribs and she doubled up.
For a brief moment I thought that I had my opening.
The instant my foot touched the stone again, I went low, aiming to come up inside her defences, use my shorter limbs to my advantage. Given a few moments, dozens of Immaculate monks would arrive and some of them would be experienced monks, perhaps even Shikari trained to take golden Anathema down.
But she wasn't reeling and unready.
When I came within her reach, I was struck first by her smirk and triumphant eyes. And then I was hurled up and had the briefest of instants to fortify myself before I found myself rushing down onto the cold, hard stones of the platform.
I was probably out of the fight for less than a minute, for most of which I had little to no idea what was going on. It took several seconds to remember that I had arms and legs, much less how to move them.
When I finally dragged a breath into my lungs, I started clawing my way out of the shattered stones where I had struck them.
Something had landed on me. I didn't throw it aside only because when my hands secured a grip, I realised it was someone, not something.
Wiping the back of my hand across my eyes I blinked them open and found myself staring into the dead, glassy eyes of Tepet Berel Ayama.
There was the sound of a wracking sob and only when it was repeated was I aware it came from my own lips.
"You're not dead?"
I saw Lyta standing almost above me, Uzuki's arm in one hand, her Caste mark blazing ominously on her brow. The rest of Uzuki was crawling away backwards, pushing away with her legs as she used her remaining arm to try to pinch closed the wound that was spurting blood out of the stump of her left arm. Her face was stained as much by tears as it was blood.
"Get away!" The woman who leapt onto the platform covered it in a single swooping stride. She held a chakram in each hand but rather than throwing them, she slashed at Lyta with them as if they were fighting daggers, driving the newly Exalted Solar back.
I tried to get my feet under me but could only manage my knees.
The platform around me was a gory mess, littered by bodies. Some were still alive but I couldn't guess at how many.
Probably not as many as it seemed at first. Too many. The monks must have seen Lyta's anima banner spring to life and recognised it for what it was – hells, I imagine they saw it at the Cloister of Wisdom, miles away.
But while they had all, bravely and dutifully, rushed towards the terrible threat that had appeared in the heart of their power, they were arriving in ones and twos, not en masse in the sort of numbers that would have stopped her.
Still, that reprieve couldn't last forever.
Lyta blocked the chakram sweeps with her forearms, the razor-sharp jade-steel failing to sink more than the tiniest fraction of an inch into her. Then she crane-kicked and as the Immaculate monk doubled up, I realised that the Solar was copying what I had done to her.
The only difference was that her target wasn't waiting for it and when Lyta rose up inside the woman's guard she did so with her fingers like claws ripping up beneath the ribs.
The Immaculate was almost torn in two, eviscerated on the spot. Her anima banner, only barely lit up as she had likely been managing her essence carefully in the expectation of a long fight to wear Lyta down, died with her.
"How does it feel, Alina?" Lyta wiped the blood off her hands on what was left of the Immaculate's robe. "To have me looking down on you at last?"
I stared up at her, gathering my strength, my wits, whatever I could. "You've always looked down on me. You're taller than I am!"
I'm not sure what she expected but that wasn't it.
I had a moment. I had, as I had told Ayama not that long ago, an opportunity.
I slammed my forehead down on the stone platform beneath me, right before the irate Lyta kicked my head off of me.
The Palace Sublime was a manse, of course. While I wasn't actually within it, I was close enough to the essence flows converging around it. Even outside the manse, the dragonlines were larger and more thickly clustered than they would have been elsewhere.
In another life I could have done this anywhere. Right now, I wanted every advantage I could have. I hadn't tried this since my rebirth. For most of that time, I think the monks were right and it would have crippled me.
But right now, it was one of the few cards I had. My essence control was pretty damn good when I got to the Cloister and I'd spent more than half a year working on it since I mastered the enlightenment charms again.
I came up like a runner from a crouch and the essence of the stones came with me, my skin covered by it.
I was a bit distracted to recall that what I was doing demanded essence control of at least the fifth mortal plateau. It was probably a good thing that I was no longer of two minds about Lyta.
The bitch was going down. It was just a question of whether I survived it or not.
The Perfection of Earth Body is the highest and most demanding technique of the Earth Dragon style. My battered body reinforced with essence drawn directly from the element itself (and it had brought a fair bit of actual earth with it), I ploughed into Lyta and carried her with me as plunged off the side of the arena platform without breaking stride.
She screamed like a wildcat, clawing at my back with similar ferocity but even those terrible raking hands could barely scratch me through the essence formed about me.
I reckon she just about realised that and was going to change tactics when I reached what I was aiming for.
Perhaps thirty yards from the site for the dance of the dragons, a rough and largely unshaped stone menhir rose up out of the garden. It was easily twice my height and I have no idea why it was there. Perhaps it was to be a meditation focus or perhaps there was some point to it in the local geomancy.
Either way, it was big enough and solid enough to stop me and Lyta was caught quite literally between a rock and a hard-place.
I think I may have cracked her hip with the impact. More importantly it straightened her out, her shaven head snapping back and almost cracking against the heavy stone.
I couldn't take too much more of a battering, that was a fact. But for all the supernatural agility she had shown, I was fairly sure she wasn't going to be able to take too many hits either.
Almost everything I'd seen from her so far was aggression. I needed her on the defensive.
I locked one hand on her face and smashed her head back against the menhir, visibly cracking it with the impact.
She bunched her legs up to try to brace herself to kick me away, but I wheeled, spinning her around as I clung to the stone with bleeding fingernails and let centrifugal force do its job. My hand lost its grip on her head right before she found herself butting heads with the heavy stone for the third time in as many seconds.
That had to rattle her cage.
I delivered a heavy kick against her hip as she tried to shake it off, aiming for the same one that had taken the worst of the initial collision. There was a satisfying shriek from the girl and she scrabbled for a foothold to get her other leg under her.
I dropped to my own knees, one hand grabbing hold of that leg above the knee and the other below it. One heave and the joint was bent in a manner not intended by the designer of the human knee.
"No!" Her voice was almost breaking. "You can't beat me!"
I bounced up on my feet again, pretending a lightness I didn't really feel. It was still possible that she'd bounce back herself.
I didn't mean to give her time. Jumping up, I kicked off the menhir's side, giving more force to the spin that connected my foot to her temple.
She sprawled, inelegantly onto the ground. "Why you!?"
It was a child's cry, that of someone who did not understand.
A 'plaint that a part of me ached to answer and explain to.
I hardened my heart and kicked Lyta over, onto her face. One hand on her shoulder, one around onto her jaw. I didn't quite get the grip right and she bit down on one finger, drawing blood.
Her arms flexed, forcing her up and back, towards me. Some last reflex or perhaps a strategy that I didn't give a chance to play out.
I held her shoulder still and yanked her head around until she was looking right at me.
"Why… always… you…?"
The golden anima guttered and died. Sesus Lyta's eyes dimmed. They looked terribly like Ayama's.
Monks had been rushing towards us for the entirety of my fight and now, as if time had slowed down to allow it, they crowded around us, staring at Lyta's broken body. I staggered, punch-drunk, back to the arena floor and scrambled back onto it, succeeding only on the second time.
The Perfection of Earth Body was almost all that was keeping me upright but with clumsy fingers I unknotted my belt, dropped to one knee next to Uzuki and used it to tourniquet her arm.
No one else had done anything to help her, I thought rather self-righteously with my last shred of indignation before I passed out again.
Dreams of red blood and golden light haunted me. Faces remembered, friends and foes, living and dead.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself in an unfamiliar dormitory, laid out on a bamboo mat.
"Don't move too quickly."
I blinked and turned my head and saw a monk kneeling next to me. She half-turned her head and addressed someone else. "Please inform the masters that Alina has woken."
I heard footsteps departing as I gingerly tested my ability to move. Everything seemed more or less where it should be, rather to my relief. There was an ache that warned me that I had pushed myself harder than was wise. Exalted or not, I was still flesh and bone.
"I'm sure you have questions…"
I raised one hand. "Uzuki?"
She nodded patiently. "Cathak Uzuki is in a stable condition."
"Ayama?"
She frowned slightly. "Tepet Berel Ayama is among those who gave their lives."
"Gave?" Dammit, I had failed them.
The monk nodded gravely. "The majority of the students fled when ordered to. The two you name saw you fall and went back for you."
The words were like poison to me. A further failure then. I had, whatever my intentions, drawn them into Lyta's grasp.
A warm hand settled on my shoulder and I realised I was covered by only a light blanket. "Your life is their victory, just as the lives of many of your classmates is yours. Do not diminish the sacrifice your friends made; or mar their memory with shame in place of honest grief."
The footsteps from earlier returned, with some haste. "The masters wish to speak with her."
The monk rose smoothly to her feet. "I recommend against the student moving from her bed for another day."
When I looked up, I saw that the messenger was a young monk, swarthy skin paler across the crown of his head, likely indicating that he had only recently shaved his head and taken his oaths. "The masters are on their way here," he reported.
That got a sigh. "Fetch a robe for her then." She turned back to me. "I will help you to sit up. Try to remain still. You strained yourself severely and the temple of your body requires serenity to recover itself."
That agreed with my own observation and I nodded slightly, lying back until the monk had her arms around me, levering me up and then stacking three rolled mats behind me as support. She also helped slip my arms into a robe and belted it loosely around me.
Just as the blanket was drawn up over my lap, the door slid open to admit a further three monks. Two I recognised – no, three. Crane {who had helped the other students escape} and Repentant Blossom of Winter; and the third, who I had never been so close to, was the much-anticipated Immaculate Grand Master: Ragara Myrrun.
He was craggy stone in motion, each movement precisely and perfectly calculated. For a moment I thought he was using Perfection of the Earth Body himself and wondered why he felt that this meeting required it, but then realised that his essence and aspect were simply so advanced that it was his natural form.
"Smaller than I had thought," he observed.
Crane {who had helped the other students escape}, swept a measuring gaze across me. "Tepet Demarol Alina," he addressed me formally. "I trust that your pains are fading."
I felt the flickering edges of a headache. "Some of them."
"Yes." Repentant Blossom of Winter's expression was stern. I made a mental note never to refer to her as RBW. My friend Radiant Bright Wing had been amused by that shorthand for herself, also answering to 'featherhead'. I did not think that the dominie who shared her initials would be so casual. "You have faced a challenge that you never should have come close to," she reminded me. "You have… surpassed it." And then her eyes narrowed further. "Though how you have done so rouses some questions."
"I would imagine so."
Dropping to one knee beside me, Crane {who had helped the other students escape}, looked me in my eyes. "All the students were ordered to get clear. First-year students had no business confronting one of the Anathema. Were you thirsty to prove yourself against her?"
There was a compulsion behind his words, a temptation to say yes. To admit that I hated Lyta, that I had felt vindication at her fall from grace and at the opportunity to…
What the hell was this? Those were not my feelings!
I had disliked her. Feared what I suspected might be her fate!
But at the end… I had pitied her.
There were others worthy of my hatred. A child who aspired to greatness and was chosen for it at a terrible time was not one of them. I knew then, as I met his green eyes and saw the starlight within them, that more than anything about Lyta's death, I regretted that I had not been able to steer her away from the path that had led to her death, to the path that in another life had sent her out into the world she had believed against her.
When she could have been so much more.
There was a faction, I recalled, among the Sidereal Exalted who had opposed bringing down the god-kings of old and thought that they could be steered and manipulated. Who saw the return of the Solar Exalted as young and malleable pawns they could direct against their rivals who dominated the Five-Score Fellowship and the Bureau of Destiny.
Crane {who had helped the other students escape}'s presence and attention to Lyta had not been a coincidence.
And he had not helped the other students escape.
"No," I told him - told them - honestly. "We needed time. For the others to get clear, for monks to arrive in sufficient numbers to contain and bring her down." And then a rawer, more painful admission. "I rather overestimated my ability to buy that time."
"Two of your classmates, children who you shared a pilgrimage with, paid the price for that choice." Repentant Blossom of Winter hid her hands within the sleeves of her robe. "One is dead, the other crippled for life."
"I know." My voice twisted and shook with the ache of that. "I know."
"You know the Earth Dragon style." Myrrun's voice was cool and dispassionate. "I do not recall that first year students are instructed… so at best you should know only the most basic lessons but you not only used it, you used one of its most difficult techniques."
"Indeed." There was a frozen chill to the dominie's voice. "You know such lessons are prohibited until your essence was fully prepared, and that we had judged you not ready. How did you, at your age, know any charms of that style - much less its paramount feat?"
"Master Crane taught me." I saw the man's green eyes widen in shock and then narrow in anger as he realised what I was doing. "He was giving me private lessons; on the evenings he wasn't tutoring Lyta."
Admit the crime, pass the blame to someone else, tie them to another matter of more import and let their suspicions do the rest. That sort of social transaction came naturally after years of wrangling powerful Exalted to fight the actual enemies, not each other, and occasionally to also do their paperwork.
Ragara Myrrun's hand fell upon the shoulder of the kneeling instructor and {/Creation.disconnect}
{Creation.reconnect/} the Immaculate Grand Master turned to the door. "No one has seen your Master Crane since the anathema appeared," he informed me as he turned to the door. "We will require an accounting of all of his lessons."
And then he was gone, smoothly but with the gathering force of an avalanche, leaving me alone with Repentant Blossom of Winter and the monk who had tended to me. I should probably find out her name at some point. If nothing else, so I could thank her.
The aged Air-aspect eyed me for a moment and then sat down in a lotus position in front of me. "Relax child."
"I think I might break something if I do."
"I know the feeling. I broke through to the fourth mortal plateau of essence cultivation in battle with a renegade Salt God," she confided. Salt's importance in preserving food, restraining ghosts and as an alchemical reagent gave the spirits responsible for any source considerable leverage, which they sometimes abused. "It remains among the most painful of my memories. To which I must now add another."
I bit my lip.
"As to you..." She shook her head slowly. "When I was appointed as dominie, my predecessor warned me that while as a teacher I might hope to find the next Ragara Myrrun, such a pupil is a double-edged blade."
I pulled a face. "I did the right thing but in all the wrong ways."
"I see you lack false modesty," the monk attending me noted in mild reproof.
Repentant Blossom of Winter shrugged. "She casts him in the shade, does she not? We wouldn't usually consider teaching the beginning of an Immaculate style to someone younger than fifteen and Alina is close to mastery when she is still short of that. Not to mention that slaying… the anathema… has brought her to imperial attention for the second time."
"The attention does not surprise me given where this has happened," the monk noted drily. "But the second time?"
"That I couldn't say." Through Ledaal Phaestis, probably. But how would Repentant Blossom of Winter know of that? I gave the monk a questioning look, wondering why she was being so informal with the domine. "I am setting a rather bad example," I admitted.
"The example of those who chose to follow you into this battle is likely to be that of those who think they can master the Immaculate Arts as easily." The monk paused. "Dead or crippled. I do not think you would appreciate less than blunt honesty."
"You seem to know me well, already."
She dipped her head gracefully. "Sweet Memory. The good dominie was my abbot before she was charged with the responsibility for the Cloister. And you require no introduction."
"I'm becoming notorious." I turned back to Repentant Blossom of Winter. "I take it that sorcery was used to communicate with the capital about Lyta's… action."
"Yes, and we have likewise received a response." She frowned. "I must maintain discipline within the Cloister and it will be harder when the students know that you not only avenged their brethren but have also been rewarded by her Scarlet Majesty for doing so." The old woman drew herself up. "Tepet Demarol Alina, I am charged by direct instruction of the Scarlet Empress to inform you that for your valour in defending the Palace Sublime from an Anathema, she offers you a boon of your choosing."
That seemed… excessive. "It's a trap, isn't it?"
Sweet Memory laughed. "Are you sure you're Earth-aspected? They are usually more deliberate, but you think like quicksilver."
"I was raised in a political household." Why didn't I meet you in my last life, Sweet Memory? An immaculate with this sort of humour would have been a fine ally. Did Lyta kill you? "If I ask too little then I show I am ignorant, but ask too much and I am ambitious."
"You could also hold that boon for a later date," suggested Repentant Blossom of Winter. "The political value would be immense."
"And in the hands of a bastard child of a minor household it would make me a target. No, this is a hot potato I don't want to cling to." I shook my head. "And better it be discharged somehow without having every student at the Cloister looking for Anathema to slay."
"That is inelegantly put but not in accurate," she allowed. "Do you have something in mind? You could request a manse and try to found your own household, or ask that she assign you a tutor to pursue the Immaculate martial arts if that calls to you as much as it seems."
"A little too public," I pointed out. "And it would be best, perhaps, if I was out of sight for a while."
Sweet Memory shook her head. "I can't wait to hear this."
"Since so many are dead and injured, I imagine that a number of students will need a leave of absence to recuperate – to the summer at least. Perhaps longer?"
The dominie nodded. "Your friend Uzuki may need a year or more and she will find it… difficult to advance in some fields without her arm. A shame – if she were Exalted her family might be willing to invest in an artifact to make good her loss. Still, she is one of my students and I will welcome her back to learn all that she may."
"A year lost out of seven." I winced. That wasn't quite as bad as the lost limb but it would also hurt her.
"I am not quite so severe. Those who cannot return at the end of the summer will be allowed to extend their time at the Cloister to compensate. The maximum period of tuition is seven years and those unable to attend are clearly not in tuition. I would imagine that you will be on your feet again in days and fully recovered within a month though. Exaltation is hardly without benefits."
"While I might be able to, would it be wise? I don't expect the same grace from you since my fitness will not actually be as impaired as Uzuki's, but perhaps an extended recovery out of the view of my peers would make my example less desirable?"
She considered that. "A point, yes. It would be harsh for you to lose months of lessons, but we may count that as a due punishment for the illicit lessons you received from Crane. Really, since you are so clever now, I must wonder how he deceived you."
I made a face. "A lesson I must learn more fully."
"So, you will return home for a while?" asked Sweet Memory.
I shook my head slowly. "No." Ayama was dead, but there were other Tepet in danger. And if I had the freedom...
"Then where?"
"I believe that some of my relatives are taking a journey to see the forests of the north-east," I said lightly. "Might you by any chance know anyone who is going in that direction? I have a sudden desire to join their expedition."
The Imperial City didn't look quite as dramatic from the docks as it does when you approach from the sky, but on the other hand, you get a full dose of the sound and smell.
On balance, the aerial approach is probably preferable. And I'm not saying that because I was horribly sea-sick on the galley that brought us north along the coast from the Palace Sublime. Even in my last life I wasn't much of a sailor.
Airships were another matter, for some reason. I'd built a Haslanti-style one and it did good work even though it was later handed down to some of my children when it proved simply too slow to respond to problems affecting more far flung allies and too small to carry a significant force of reinforcements.
The galley was small and lightly built, it more or less had to be so that the crew could row it quickly enough. Since all I had to do during the voyage was rest and let my essence heal, I was feeling much better in some respects…
And since emptying my stomach of most of what went into it had been a theme, I was feeling rather worse in other ways.
"If it's any consolation, the ship we're changing to is larger and handles the waves much better," offered Sweet Memory as she helped me off the galley and onto the dock.
"It helps, but not as much as being off that… I won't even call it a tub, a tub would be sturdier," I told her – quietly enough that the crew behind us probably wouldn't hear. There was no need to be harsh towards them, they were doing their best with the tools they were given.
More than twenty monks were with us despite the casualties Lyta had caused. Not everyone who'd fought her were dead, and two of those not coming with us had been comparative rookies so horrified at the carnage caused that they'd backed out.
You had to see a Solar at work to really know what you were dealing with. There was a reason that they brought down the Primordials and then ruled Creation for thousands of years. I have to give points to the Dragon-Blooded who brought them down, even if they were being masterminded by others for a lot of it. It took enormous courage to take on hundreds of Celestial Exalted, powerful enough individually to dictate commands to much of even the celestial pantheon.
And I don't just say that because I was a Dragon-Blood. I was… atypical of the breed. Whether that's good or bad… you be the judge.
The feel of solid stone beneath my feet was a great relief and the mess of dock workers parted without hesitation at the sight of two dozen Immaculate monks. And myself, although I doubt that they could tell the difference. I was still wearing the hemp robe I'd used at the Cloister, identical to that of a first coil monk, the only difference being my bracers.
The only ones who dared to stand before us were the guards at the entrance to the dock we were headed for. The navy didn't let just anyone near some of their ships and this was one of them – a courier vessel of a kind not made since the days of the Dragon-Blooded Shogunate – the government of the Realm in the interim between the overthrow of the Solars and the Scarlet Empress' rise to power after the Great Contagion and the Balorian Crusade.
About sixty feet long, and a quarter the width, the ship had a mast and sail but primarily it relied on a pair of essence engines that used jets of water to propel it through the ocean at a staggering – by current standards – twenty miles an hour.
Our numbers were rather more than would usually be recommended for the ship, and it was certainly in no sense large enough for the formation of legion soldiers that stood at parade rest near the gangway down to the deck. A full talon of the Imperial Force, heavily armoured with essence-driven armour marking out those who were Exalted.
No, I don't mean the jade-steel worn by most Exalted. This was the sophisticated artifact war gear of the first age, that could have quite a variety of inbuilt functions from flight to barriers of pure essence. Vanishingly rare and only the most trusted of the Scarlet Dynasty were ever assigned it. The mortals that made up most of the talon were less well-equipped but they were comparable, many of them monks themselves. And given the role of the Imperial Force, they were trained in taking down even Exalted.
Essentially, we were outnumbered five to one by a force even more elite than the supposedly tide-turning force of monks I was with. If they were here to detain us, it was enough that any sane person would surrender. Hopefully that wasn't the case.
"The Empress can't be sending them with us," Sweet Memory noted in surprise. "But I haven't seen so many of them in one place before."
The officer leading this force stepped forwards as we approached, addressing Sweet Memory directly: "Are you Tepet Demarol Alina?"
She shook her head and gestured for me to step forwards. "No, talonlord. This is who you are looking for."
I guess that made Sweet Memory sane. Good to know.
The Dragon-Blood was too well trained to drop his jaw as I stepped forwards, well aware of how unimpressive I must look. "This… child is a shikari?"
It was an archaic word for hunter, perhaps more exactly translated as harrier. Used, in the current day, for members of the Wyld Hunt.
"This child," Sweet Memory assured him quietly, "Brought down an Anathema with her bare hands. After four of our number, two of them Exalted, were killed or crippled."
He nodded and turned his head to glower at me through his helmet. "Then you should have a token."
I nodded and opened my satchel. Besides my tools and a spare robe there wasn't much in there, but there was an amulet that Repentant Blossom of Winter had given me for this purpose. A five-headed dragon, because… well, symbolism, I suppose?
The officer produced a second amulet and held it next to mine, comparing the two until he was sure that they were identical. "I see," he confirmed, putting his own away.
"Are you supposed to take this?" I asked, still holding mine out.
He shook his head. "My orders are only to provide you with a package and a letter." The man waved his hand and one of the dragon-armoured Exalted stepped forwards, carrying a wooden casket about a foot across. Meanwhile the officer produced a scroll from a bag at his side.
I accepted the letter first and it had my lawful mother's seal on it. Somehow, I doubt she had the pull to have a hundred and twenty-five of the Imperial Force deliver it, so my guess was that whoever had received it here had somehow had it sent with the package.
Dropping it into my bag, I looked next at the casket. It was inconveniently large really. "Do you have any objections to my opening this?"
The man shook his head and provided me with a key obviously intended for the casket's lock. "What you do with it is not my concern, Tepet."
I honestly don't think he was being disrespectful in just using my house's name. Dealing with children wasn't exactly in his job description.
Kneeling, I unlocked the casket and flipped the lid back.
Despite its size, the only thing in it was a comparatively small leather bag and some padding. I guess the casket was mainly to make the contents bulkier so that no one could rush off with it. I reached in, tugged the drawstring of the bag and looked inside.
Yeah, that was what I'd asked for. From the guards, I guessed I had overreached a little. But I'd received it, so maybe I was just being given the rope to hang myself. I'd have to find out.
"Thank you," I told him sincerely and closed the little bag, dropping it into my satchel.
The Exalt who'd been carrying the casket stared at me. "You should be more careful with that."
I shrugged. "We're going aboard a first age ship and we'll be at sea in cramped quarters for the next few days. It's all I can do."
"Not our concern," the talonlord declared firmly – more to his subordinate to myself – and reached up, pumping his arm above his head in a signal to the force.
The soldiers fell in behind him and they marched away without another word, leaving the dock and us behind.
"What could be so valuable that it needs the Imperial Force to deliver it?" muttered one of the monks.
"Nothing we should talk about here," Sweet Memory told him and stepped to the gangway. "Captain, permission to board?"
"Granted," the woman who had been watching us from the stern of the ship. "We're only waiting for you."
One at a time we filed down the gangway onto the vessel and two crewmen hauled it aboard behind us.
"Please spend as much time as you can in the cabin," the captain warned. "We're overloaded with so many of you and there's not much room for the crew to work as it is."
"Of course, captain. We are used to austere conditions," Sweet Memory assured her.
"Austere in a monastery is one thing," we were warned. "A single cramped cabin that's heaving around on the ocean is another. We'll get you there as soon as we can, but it's a three-day voyage to the mouth of the Yanaze."
Only three days to cross the Inland Sea. It was one of the busiest pieces of water in the world, when a week and a half was more normal. I'd been faster, but it was still impressive.
Sweet Memory patted me on the shoulder and pushed me towards the cabin. "Captain, I'd appreciate a bucket for our youngest companion."
The old woman sighed heavily. "Seasick? I hope you haven't eaten heavily."
I shook my head and went inside. As tempting as it was to try to begin work with the contents of the bag, there wasn't room here and I doubted the ship would be stable enough on the open sea. Instead I cracked the seal on the letter and opened it.
Normal greetings, congratulations on bringing honour to House Tepet and to the Demarol Household in particular… ah yes, 'looking forward to discussing your lessons in the martial arts and comparing our prowess'.
Someone was suddenly unhappy that I had blown her slow progress towards Air Dragon style right out of the water. Fifty years of progress for her compared to what she must have thought was only that many weeks. That had to sting…
At the mouth of the mighty Yanaze, we transferred to a river barge. Having subsisted on a thin broth that was all I could keep down, I was deeply glad that the river waters were a little tamer than the open ocean, for all the massive size of the estuary.
We couldn't go ashore here. The city of Lookshy sits at the southern shore of the Yanaze's mouth and they were no friends to the Realm, claiming that the Scarlet Empress was an illegitimate successor to the Shogunate of old. There had been wars fought over the matter, wars that had decided nothing save that Lookshy and what had once been the Seventh Legion of the Shogunate could punch well above their weight; and that the price of subduing them would be intolerable.
Part of their advantage was their ability to close the river to trade.
The Yanaze is vast and I couldn't even see Lookshy from where we embarked on the barge. Every major river in the East flows into it, and almost all trade in the near east is either along those rivers or must at least cross one of them. In the days of the Old Realm, the River Province was the heartland of the Eastern Threshold, second only to the Blessed Isle in wealth and population. That had not changed, even if both were sadly diminished.
We had more space on the barge, at least. While most shipping on the Yanaze was ocean-going vessels that relied on sail, a handful of First Age tugs still pulled chains of barges up the river and the major tributaries. They charged a fat fee, but given the costs of operating them, it was more than fair.
On the smoother water of the river, I could at last work with my tools and after crafting the most important thing – a big fat bacon sandwich – in the barge's galley, I laid claim to a corner of the deck and began work.
"Curiosity overwhelms me," Sweet Memory observed as she saw me applying a pencil-sized burner to a crucible I held in my other hand. (Please do not try this at home, or unless you're Exalted.) "Are you going to set the barge on fire?"
"I can't claim to be an astrologer, but I'm not planning to."
"I'm so glad. That would impact on our travel plans somewhat. So, what are you doing?"
"Well, now that I've finished my sandwich, I'm going to turn this into wire, and then into thread."
She shook her head. "That was cruel to the rest of us, you know." The oaths of Immaculate Monks include dietary regulation, and red meat is one of the first things prohibited (along with narcotics and intoxicants). That alone was more of a deterrent to me than the formal process of entering the Immaculate Order – which involves kneeling in a certain courtyard of the Imperial City's temple district until the Paragon of Sextes Jylis judges you sufficiently humble, then a pilgrimage on foot from the city to the Palace Sublime, during which you must subsist by begging. Both of these are particularly gruelling for those wellborn or Exalted, who often have little experience of privation.
While I don't particularly consider myself prideful, begging rather than earning my keep might come hard to me. And the degree of privation required for the Paragon to see me as suitably humbled might be extensive. But the biggest barrier remained the lack of meat. The fact I was willing to endure that rule for seven years at the Cloister should tell you how much I had wanted the opportunity to regain my former access to the Earth Dragon style.
"Take pride in your privation," I told Sweet Memory, shaking the crucible slightly to help the heat spread through the metal inside it. "Surely your enlightenment cannot be undermined by the sweet smell of smoked bacon."
"Unnecessary testing of one's enlightenment is a sin of pride." Her lips quirked as she lectured me. "Is that what was in the casket?"
There was no point to keeping it secret, since it hardly took a genius to guess that. "Yes, four ounces of starmetal."
The monk frowned. "And that required a guard force that would have been excessive to storm a major manse?"
"I think her Scarlet Majesty would have preferred that I ask for her personal warstrider." Actually, I was entirely sure that she would, since she hadn't used the red jade Royal Warstrider once in the four hundred and sixty-three years she'd owned it. So far as I knew, it should still be in storage in her Winter Palace. By reputation it was a fantastic war machine, rivalling those once crafted for the use of Solar Exalted.
One of my comrades had borrowed it at one point, and unfortunately driven the animating spirit completely insane. Apparently, the spirit had been set to copy every thought and memory of the pilot, which would then be replicated upon a mirroring device in a certain office in heaven for evaluation. If the Empress had accepted the gift at face value then one of the oldest Sidereal Exalted would have had the secrets to entering and using the Imperial Manse at his disposal.
Whether the spirit had been unstable after centuries of not even being unpacked or the Eclipse Caste Solar who used it was just that alt-sane was a subject for much light-hearted debate, but after tearing apart an invasion flotilla of shipwrecks that rose from the ocean floor and attempted to storm Arjuf, the warstrider had summarily ejected the man and attempted to fly high enough to board the Unconquered Sun's chariot as it made its daily transit over Creation. That had ended about as well as you might imagine.
I never found out what the Sidereal in question made of it, because he'd died in the interim and the mirroring device had been lost in the bureaucratic shuffle of reassigning his duties.
Sweet Memory shook her head at that. "If you're feeling better, please join us for practise. I'd feel better if you had some proper lessons in Earth Dragon style. None of us are masters but so far as I'm aware, nor was Crane. It was close to a miracle that you used it successfully against the Anathema. Let's not rely on such good fortune in the future."
It was good advice and I nodded. "I'll finish this and then join you once the metal has cooled. I'd rather not leave it unattended before that stage."
"I'm sure the barge crew will appreciate that," Sweet Memory assured me, looking at the wooden deck beneath us. She lowered her voice. "We've received some news from the Linowan."
I looked up. "How bad is it?"
She took a deep breath. "The initial reports were that two golden Anathema had left the west and were helping the Haltans over-run the Linowan's southern allies."
Since the Haltan kingdom lay to the north of the Linowan, that left our allies pincered. Of course, General Arada's legions were marching northwards from Greyfalls so they in turn would be pincering this threat. "And now?"
"We now believe there to be at least four Anathema, and one of them has been summoning demons. There are reports that the sorcerer is guarded by an animated corpse who wields a fiery lance of brass, so there may also be a necromancer in play."
I closed my eyes in thought. I do not summon demons myself, for various reasons, but it is so common a practice among sorcerers that I have had little choice but to swallow my distaste. And I have sent no small number back to Malfeas.
It would be very ill-advised to let Sweet Memory know that I had a tenth the knowledge of demons that I had built up, but that description was familiar to me. The lance itself was the preferred form of the demon Gervesin, who was of the Second Circle. It possessed its wielders, and their mere death was not enough to end their enthrallment.
The sorceries accessible to Terrestrial Exalted did not generally extend to banishment of demons of the Second or Third Circle, any more than it did to summoning them. Which would require 'slaying' Gervesin (and not merely the corpse that carried him) such that he was forced to reform within Malfeas.
Not a trivial task.
"Brass is most commonly a sign of demons," I said out loud. "I don't claim to know much of anything about necromancy, but it could be that the corpse is possessed in some respect."
Samea of the Blackwater Tribe, I thought. A sorceress of the Zenith Caste, and one of the few Solar Exalted in this day and age who had escaped the Wyld Hunt even longer than Yurgen. She was his right hand, and had bargained with demons for lost knowledge of the celestial sorceries that could call and bind a Second Circle demon. Most demons would share that lore, even if they would ask a price for the trade. After all, it served their masters well to have their agents in Creation, even should they be for the most part bound to the whim of a summoner.
It was truly shocking how few sorcerers thought to include such terms as 'don't sneak off and start an infernal cult while I'm sleeping' in their bindings. I suspected that for many Sorcerers, common sense was what they had sacrificed at their initiation.
Sweet Memory spread her hands. "Perhaps so. But this is not simply a Wyld Hunt on a grand scale. Even one Anathema is a terrible threat, as you have seen. An entrenched Anathema who has been given time to grow into that power… there we have such threats as Jochim, who was fought for seven years before he was slain. Multiple such Anathema…"
I wondered what she'd think of my extended circle – the Solars, the Lunars, a Green Sun Princess who had broken the bonds of Malfeas, myself and my host of children. We were everything she had been raised to fear…
Dammit, I missed those beautiful bastards. Mostly because they were so damn good at dodging.
I have gone back and updated the previous chapters with corrections. Nothing plot related has changed, just typos, grammar and filling in missing words.
Ouch. Her friends following her into the fight and being murder/mauled as a result was a good emotional beat but she didn't respond to it as strongly as I would have expected... maybe I'm just used to more openly expressive heroes.
Beating a Solar anathema to death with your bare hands is going to get attention. I think it's a given over this campaign she'll do something to raise it further.
Ragara Myrrun's hand fell upon the shoulder of the kneeling instructor and {/Creation.disconnect}
{Creation.reconnect/} the Immaculate Grand Master turned to the door. "No one has seen your Master Crane since the anathema appeared," he informed me as he turned to the door. "We will require an accounting of all of his lessons."
And Alina's now not only Essence 5, but probably starting up some rumors that she's Pasiap reborn. No, seriously, mastering an Immaculate Style and killing a Solar on their power high at the age of... 12? Is so utterly improbable that most people would start suspecting she's either some Elder Lunar disguised as her, or actual divine (dragon) intervention is at play here. Likely the latter, since Immaculate Monks can get that one "Detect Celestial Exalts" charm.
Caught a few editing artifacts, this time. Before that, though, I just want to express my sincere thanks for not taking a side trip to Tournament Hell the way it looked like you might for a bit there.
I also noticed that some of the comments seem to be surprised Crane turned out to be a Sidereal - I thought that was signaled before, with the same kind of signs as the one in the temple on Mt. Meru? Maybe it was just the explicit confirmation? Anyway, it's a shame to see her friends having been mulched, but against even a rookie Solar it would have been a little off if only undeveloped background characters had been affected, even when by her own words most of them had made a point of not putting themselves in the line of fire for Lyta's vendetta with her.
Finishing the Perfected Kata Bracers is gonna be huge. Even aside from the massive bonuses to unarmed attacks and soak, the fact that Earth Dragon Style allows for armor and grand goremauls means she's going to be kicking all kinds of ass. The boosts to Rate and Defense more than cancel out its downsides as a weapon. Even a Tesubo could be made superior than an unenhanced Grand Goremaul with this.
EDIT: And with the same attunememt cost too. Better stats, plus working as armor for the same cost, plus it stacks if she decides to go all out and grab artifact weapons and armor too.
I liked the fight. Solars are bullshit but being an Essence 5 Dragon Blooded Martial Artist at 14 is also very bullshit.
I'm guessing that this is where we start to see the trademark Exalted escalation. Alina is trading in on being an Essence 5 Earth Dragon Artist whose already killed a Solar to join the House Tepet expedition years ahead of when she normally would be able to.
Yrina and Demarol let Alina climb the Imperial Mountain, a mountain that considers the Himalayas to be mere foothills, with two mere mortals as companions. Granted, by a known and mapped trail that has well-staffed waystations.
And even they would consider her going off to one of the far corners of Creation into a war zone where there are multiple Anathema at play to be a no-no, unless she'd shown herself to be rather dangerous in her own right.
I actually feel bad for Lyta. Alina might not have liked her, but if she had exalted under different circumstances would have probably happily let her go. Instead, a Sidereal had to get involved.
Remember Lyta was supposed to kill a lot more than this. I think this might have been the best of the possibilities
Sides i dont think lyta was ever not going to be homicidal
All the stuff with Crane made me remember that Sidereals have charms for that. They can explicitly remove or change intimacies (how a character feels about people, things, etc).
I don't remember if it was here or SB but it was mentioned that Alina's lack of connection to her birth mother has a reason and is a spoiler. With some of the other reactions she's had I'm starting to get a bad feeling about that.
The only thing the Sidereal did was train her and use the MC to force her to work harder. He did not exactly use social charms to make her go kill the Dragonblooded. That was all Lyta. It was a long time coming as we have multiple chapters where her resentment was being built up.
He wouldn't have needed to. Just a few words at the right (wrong) time is something even a normal person could do to boost a teenager's inferiority complex, with obvious results as soon as the got the power to hit back.
What i'm concerned about is how did he know that Lyta had the chance to exalt. It's not exactly fated (it's against fate in fact) and without time travel it makes no sense that a sideral was wasting time training a mortal.
I'm forced to conclude that someone in the gold faction told him about her (and the moron decides that exaltion rampage was a acceptable price for a solar he influences), which means siderals as a group know about some secrets from that future, which means shit is about to go sideways because of their curse.
Alina better hope that there aren't a bunch of siderals as a team stirring the soup with the Tepet legions or the Bull of the North. Though maybe they already were there in the other timeline lol.
Given how momentous the Bull of the North destroying the Tepet legion is, I am pretty sure there is like 5 different circles of Siderals working at cross purposes there. That can never go wrong.
