Waterstrider

Canvas Town, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Thirdmonth, 1634 PTS

There were only seven rooms in all of the Charging Puma Martial Academy, and so some of them served multiple uses. This room, furnished in a very traditional style with prints and tapestries lining the walls served as both a room for greeting guests and also as Cinto’s office.

I inspected the wall art as I waited for my host to finish brewing us some tea. The prints were clearly cheap, mass produced, and I had little doubt the tea would be something like packets of powder mixed into warm water.

Everything in this place was a thin veneer of the traditional layered over cheap modernity.

I inspected a print depicting a martial artist facing off against a particularly vicious looking three-tailed junglefiend. Whorls of white and green surrounded the figure as he attacked the beast.

The art was good, but this was clearly a reproduction of the original work. It wasn’t even a particularly good replica. I could see printer marks on the edges.

My musings were interrupted by Rachel’s voice in my ear.

“Be careful with how you present yourself, Cyrus. She presents a unique opportunity for us if you can recruit her.”

“I’m well aware.”

My response carried a trace of annoyance. Rachel sighed.

“She’s acting tense. Look, I’ll just talk to her. Pull out the slate.”

I acquiesced. The slate she mentioned was a thin metallic plate with celan characters distending from its surface. I returned to the cushion that Cinto had directed me to when we entered the room. My gaze roamed around for a few moments, pausing on the various accoutrements of traditionality before turning to place the glyph slate down beside me. The surface shimmered as I set it down beside me, the glyphs shifting and transforming into another set. I couldn’t use the thing myself, but Rachel had somehow acquired control of it from a distance.

The primary plan had been for me to discuss terms with Cinto before the Redwater goons arrived, arriving at a deal and then handling them for her. Rachel was supposed to have been whispering in my ear, advising me on what to say. She had clearly given up on that part of the plan. I was fine with that, as Rachel’s sophistry far eclipsed my own.

The symbols on the slate’s surface shifted into ever more complex patterns, transforming themselves from simple characters into complex geometric designs that seemed to contain meaning far and beyond the celan alphabet alone. The curving patterns arranged themselves into a circular grid before morphing into a depiction of concatenated spheres, and then torii, and then into odd shapes that caused Cyrus’ head to hurt. And in an instant, the slate became blank, the text blinking out for an instant, and then Rachel was there.

She was seated, kneeling down on her legs in what seemed a respectful posture. She wore traditional Seiyal clothing, a set of nice sky-blue robes that might be worn by a successful mortal merchant or scholar. Her appearance was different than usual. Her normal dark hair had been replaced by a Seiyal’s blonde, and her vibrant blue eyes were now a brilliant amber. There was a slight bump at the center of her forehead to mark Rachel’s transformation into a sei.

Unlike her usual illusions, this time I could sense the unkempt soul of a mortal emanating from within her. So that had been the purpose of the slate. Her soul slightly roiled at the light touch of my senses, and I could feel it react in a more flickering manner than was usual for a mortal soul, but the reproduction was rather effective, at least for a first glance. It would likely serve its purpose, as few martial artists bothered to closely examine a mortal’s soul.

I raised an eyebrow as I inspected the shift in her appearance.

“Why are you a sei now?”

Rachel shrugged, the corner of her mouth twitching as she observed my reaction.

“I felt it would make the process simpler if everyone believed ours was a truly Seiyal organization.”

It felt odd to see the change in her appearance, an uncanny feeling I had felt before as my mind adjusted its mental image of her.

“I see. Would that mean your previous appearance was also composed to alter my view of you?” I asked.

I was honestly curious. I knew she used the ‘hologram’ in order to more easily interact with others, but I had never thought to ask about how much of her image was real and how much she had changed for my benefit. Was she even female? Perhaps the race of ‘humanity’ she had claimed to once have been a member of had not even been a humanoid species.

Rachel shook her head, cutting off my train of thought.

“My previous avatar was the appearance I once held prior to my death. I’ve always preferred to be myself whenever possible, and I felt there was little loss in me admitting my nature as an alien to you when we first met in the warehouse. ”

Personally, I couldn’t see how being Seiyal would help here where it had not in the warehouse, but decided not to comment. We sat in silence for another half minute before the door opened and Cinto walked back in, carrying a small tea set. A disciple trailed behind her.

He was a short sei, and appeared to only be in his teens. That was likely close to his true age, as I could tell he was still in the process of refining his foundation. He bowed to us after entering the room, silently following his master.

Cinto paused in shock, taken aback by Rachel’s addition to the room. Rachel waved over to her with a bright smile, eyes clearly displaying the amusement she undoubtedly felt at the reaction.

“And… who might this be, Master Yu?”

She addressed her words at me, too polite to ask how Rachel got into the academy without her noticing. As she did so, she and her disciple continued to set up the small table. I gave her a polite smile.

“This is Rachel. Though she is not a martial artist, you may consider her something of a martial sister of mine,” I said.

Cinto nodded hesitantly, finally sitting down beside her disciple and facing myself and Rachel. She was kneeling on the cushion, something of a mirror of Rachel’s own pose. Her disciple began carefully preparing the tea. She bowed her head slightly as she addressed us.

“I am Cinto Sakie, Grandmaster of this Charging Puma Martial Academy. This is Ida Guori, my most senior disciple. I request to know which organization you are from, and what your intentions are towards this academy.”

She certainly was cut to the heart of the matter right from the start, but I approved. I tilted my head slightly to observe Rachel’s response, as I figured she would prefer to be the one talking. She smirked, catching my eye before turning back to face Cinto.

“We represent certain interested parties who wish to found a sect right here on the station. We would like to formally extend you an offer to join, as we are interested in acquiring the services of a talented instructor such as yourself. Your disciples are, of course, invited to join the sect as well.”

Cinto leaned back, surprised by the words. I imagined she likely expected us to say we were the enforcers of a new gang trying to steal Hidoro’s territory. Cinto sighed, and glanced at me for a moment. I gave her a polite smile, and she quickly turned away. Beside her, Ida began pouring the tea into small cups, setting one out before each of us. I picked mine up and took a sip.

The tea was Hakian, a plant which was originally from the northern forests of the Crucible. This tea was likely synthesized, and I could certainly taste the lacking quality, but nonetheless the flavor brought old memories to mind. I enjoyed it for a moment as Cinto replied.

“I am… afraid I cannot agree. Are you not aware of who those men you slew worked for?”

Rachel laughed.

“Hidoro is nothing before our backing, you need not worry. All we are concerned with is the Hadal.”

“Even if so, the Hadal will not allow a sect of what I imagine to be the unorthodox path to form unhindered in their backyard. I’m sure you can understand how I might be wary of tying the ribbon on behalf of the academy.”

While they discussed, I was inspecting Cinto’s eldest disciple. He was a bit mousy, and looked very clearly intimidated by me based on how he avoided my gaze. His reactions were actually rather funny as he tried to maintain his composure, presumably for the sake of his master’s face.

“Let us worry about the Hadal Clan,” said Rachel, “we only want you to drill some new disciples for us, teach them the fundamentals. You can consider it merely a contract, what about that? Just like any other fledglings who come to you for learning.”

Her tone was growing more casual as she spoke, and a fervent edge was starting to grow the more she spoke. I had come to find that this was how she usually spoke when trying to convince someone.

“Don’t you wish Hidoro would leave you alone? We can help you, Cinto. You can leave your past behind, finally be free to seek out a new future, free from the shadow he casts. We can grant you a better location for training, and new disciples of the utmost talents.”

Rachel was certainly an expert at determining what a person wanted. Cinto hesitated, but finally shook her head.

“The words you speak are appealing, but I have yet to see evidence that your organization is a match for Hidoro’s group, let alone the Clan itself. He’s a spirit refiner, you know. Unless you have a member even more powerful than Cyrus…”

I set down my tea, realizing that I had already finished it. I locked eyes with Ida again, causing him to fearfully shrink back. He lifted up the teapot and refilled my cup. I gave him a polite nod as I quietly took another sip.

“We have all we need,” replied Rachel in a confident tone. Her hands were slightly wrapped around the small cup of tea, though I could tell it had not moved in the slightest since it had been placed down and filled. I sipped again on my own.

The conversation had a bit of a lull as Cinto seemed to struggle to formulate a response. Rachel’s statement had been so unilaterally confident it gave little room for Cinto to explain her doubts. A more confident person might not have had such an issue, but as Rachel had informed me in advance, Cinto was someone who had been beaten down by hardship. She lacked the confidence to tear down an assertion so readily, even though she could not help but doubt it. If anyone knew how powerful Hidoro was, it would be his junior sister.

Rachel spoke before Cinto’s reply.

“How about this: we kill him, and when we do, you come under us. I believe you should find that more palatable than the… other alternatives we have in mind. What do you think?”

Rachel tilted her head, giving a bright smile. Cinto looked from her and then to me, and I gave her a smile of my own.

I already knew what her response would be, as I had before she even sat down across from us. There was no question about it, for she had not been given a choice, after all. She cared far too much for her disciples. It was a weakness.

Foundation Refinement Realm: [The first realm of martial arts for a Seiyal. Also known as mortal refinement, this realm begins when the prospective martial artist learns how to use their dantians to sense their own souls, and to use it to touch upon the surrounding flows of ashata. Mortal Refiners learn how to move their body, obtaining precise control of themselves, and learning techniques with which to condense miasma into their body. A martial artist's path is decided as they refine their foundation, and even this first realm is capable of rendering a martial artist far more powerful than a mortal. Most martial sects, clans, and academies have inferior techniques that only progress them up to the peak of this realm.]