Waterstrider

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

Triezal watched the results of his orders, stunned to see that neither of the targets showed any reaction. They hadn’t even dodged, had let the slugs fly right through their bodies. Could their forms truly have been holographic? If so, where were their real bodies, and why had their internal miasma shown up on the sensor? Did the Shade somehow have the ability to fake miasma traces?

He watched as the far away figure of the Vice Sect Leader shifted, her gaze seeming to look right at him despite the hundreds of meters between them. Her mouth shifted as if she was saying something, but he was unable to read the words off of her lips. His blood ran cold. Could she really see him? Did she really know that he was here? None of the shots had been fired from this position.

He felt a vibration in one of the pockets of his jacket, and pulled out his slate. He froze as a message from an unknown sender was displayed prominently as a notification on the screen. The message contained a few simple words. ‘Better luck next time, Magister.’

Triezal regained his strength and chuckled darkly, leaning backwards to lay on the ground. He hadn’t intended to actually destroy the Shade, hoping that they could simply damage its body and swoop in to retrieve it. It seemed his idea had been anticipated in advance and thwarted. It seemed yet again an element outside of his considerations had ruined their plans.

“You know, little brother, I’m starting to think that we’re simply fucked.”

Kalthen silently watched the events at the examination. He gave no verbal response, but the grim expression on his face told Triezal everything he needed to know.

“The question is,” Triezal continued, speaking in a casual tone as if he were making a joke, “whether we choose to try to take it again or try to save the organization.” He let out another pained chuckle. “Because at this point, to do both is simply unfeasible.”

Kalthen turned to look at him, the stress evident on his face.

“How many enforcers do you think we would need at this point?”

Triezal directed a wan smile at his friend.

“In Hadal territory? We could send them all and have no guarantee of success. It doesn’t matter anyway. A high profile assassination attempt in Canvas Town… we’ve breached the pact with the Seiyal anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to let this turn into another gang war.”

Kalthen gave him a questioning look.

“Would that make the situation any worse?”

At that, the two of them both laughed. Triezal had to agree with Kalthen’s point, though. They were already far past the realm of worst case scenario.

“I’m starting to think it would just be easier to kill the courier who arrives to pick it up,” he said. “At least then we’ll have an extra decade or two in which to live.”

Triezal almost laughed at that foolish notion, but upon giving it a moment’s thought, he sat up in surprise.

“That might actually…”

The two of them locked eyes, and Kalthen realized that his joke might have actually had merit.

“You think…” he said, and Triezal responded with a nod.

“I think I’ll need to have another conversation with your mother.”

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

Sirena Hadal found herself laughing as she watched the feed.

“This is certainly more amusing than our examinations usually are.”

Wei nodded in agreement.

“This is more than I had anticipated either, Matriarch. I had expected the Celans to simply allow the opportunity to pass since they could not do anything. I’m curious why they chose to attack in this manner.”

Sirena habitually tapped the skin atop her three dantians.

“It seems they are even more desperate to reclaim that object than they were willing to admit. However, I find myself more curious about why the first shot was directed at the Vice Sect Leader, rather than Riverfiend himself. The way it went right through her body as well… extant miasma? How have I not heard of her before?”

Wei frowned, a memory springing to his mind.

“That reminds me, when I visited the sect, I found it curious how their Vice Sect Leader never showed up to greet me.”

Sirena glanced over, a glint forming in her eyes.

“Oh? Even more curious… Wei, find out her identity. The report on Jin Luo held no mention of her, and I had been under the impression we controlled all extant practitioners in the system.”

He bowed submissively.

“By your will, Matriarch. Might I ask what you wish us to do about the Celans? They have breached the terms of our pact.”

Sirena’s attention returned to the screen.

“The Justice Office is already pressuring us about the matter with that poisoner, so let us leave this be. We’ll allow this to remain between the Celans and the Redwater Sect. Make sure to demand reparations from them for it, though.”

Wei quickly left the room to fulfill the directives she had assigned him while Sirena continued to watch the happenings on the video feed. Her gaze was locked on the shifting form of the Riverfiend as he impassively looked up to where the snipers had fired from.

“Just what will you do next?” she murmured to herself.

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

Rachel had not actually expected to deal with an assassination attempt, but had prepared for one just in case. This was the first time they had announced publicly and in advance where Cyrus would be, and given that the location was an open area at the top of a stack, it was essentially an open opportunity for snipers. Luckily, her holograms were more than potent enough to disguise his specific location. In her opinion, despite the risk it served to test whether or not anyone particularly wished him dead. Clearly, that was the case.

She had noticed the Celans approach and set up their little nests above various warehouses, of course. She always monitored all accessible video in the area surrounding her, and while she couldn’t listen in on their transmissions, she could easily sense the use of glyph slates on the network, devices used almost exclusively by Celans. She even recognized some of the devices specifically, such as the one which belonged to the only magister of the Epon who resided on the station.

There was almost no chance he was unaware of her nature, at least insofar as the Epon as a whole knew. If he had for some reason not been informed by the group which dropped her conduit on the station, he should have heard it from Hestky before Yun managed to kill him. While this knowledge boded risks, it also allowed her the freedom to do as she wished. Rachel smiled, despite herself.

She angled her gaze to look in the direction the magister resided in.

A commendable attempt, Magister,” she said, speaking out loud. "But not quite enough."

To further press the point in, she quickly sent a mocking message to that slate, ensuring that one way or another he would get the idea.

With her own amusement out of the way, Rachel quickly scanned the area around her, ensuring that all of the palace leaders remained alive. She did not bother to check up on Cyrus, knowing that he was perfectly fine. It seemed that the worst injuries were minor shrapnel wounds, as none of them had been specifically targeted. They were just normal Seiyal at all, uninvolved with the Celans except through association with herself and Cyrus through the sect. But she suspected the Celans did not care whatsoever about the sect’s existence. It was only herself and Cyrus that they found noteworthy.

The crowd of entrants and observers had gone wild, some crazily attempting to escape the area while others were frozen in shock. That would certainly not do.

“Silence!” she barked, drawing on certain characters she had seen in films and novels for her act. Rachel personally saw herself as more of the ‘sarcastic woman, adept at annoying people’ archetype, but she wasn’t incapable of playing a role. She had taken theater in high school, after all.

Her voice resonated throughout the area, enhanced far beyond what would have been possible if she had still been human. As she was now, her ‘physical form’ was merely an illusion, and so she could essentially make her voice as loud as she wanted.

The crowd largely froze upon hearing her authoritative shout, and many glanced back to look at her. As expected. Seiyal, like her own people, tended to instinctively defer to figures of authority in fearful situations. This reaction was even more prominent in Seiyal mortals, who were used to handling martial artists, people who would always remain firmly higher than them in the hierarchy.

During the moment of relative quiet, Rachel continued to speak, still using her authoritative persona.

“We would like to apologize for the interruption, it seems the Celans are still upset about what happened a few weeks back. Don’t worry though, the attempt should be over now. We will be continuing the examination now. All remaining entrants should now line up in five lines so that we can test their receptivity.”

The relaxed and confident tone dispelled most of the crowd’s fear, and most of the entrants immediately returned, not letting mere gunshots ruin their opportunity to join the sect. While they did not see guns often, living in a Seiyal dominant neighborhood, they had seen plenty of weapons and deadly fights in their time.

Rachel glanced over at Cyrus, who was looking at all the entrants, seemingly lost in thought. She suspected he was lost in memories of his past again. She found that he had a tendency to get lost in thought. It was no surprise. Anyone with a past like his would harbor regrets they could not let go of.

Not for the first time, she wondered just what had happened back then. The reports had been vague on many aspects of the events, but it had been clear on one thing. In its hour of need, Jin Luo had sided against his own Downpour Sect, contributing greatly to its downfall.

Feruul: [The Pantheonic God of nature, Feruul's worship has slowly declined over the centuries, as nature's dominance of the planet has been slowly eliminated by usage of technology. His worship is very rare on the space stations, but he maintains a sizable following on planets and moons which contain natural life, or which are undergoing terraforming. Terraforming specifically is what his church is attempting to advocate in a desperate attempt to reclaim his relevance to the larger population, despite the fact that Staiven terraforming technology is primitive enough as to require decades to centuries to achieve results. On Staive itself, there are multiple ecoterrorist organizations devoted to him that wish to destroy cities and return to an anarcho-primitivist lifestyle. Rumors say that these organizations are secretly funded by the church of Feruul. Of all of the Pantheonic churches, Feruul's has by far the weakest influence in systems such as Tseludia, which contain no planets or moons with native life more advanced than microorganisms. Feruul's church is the only Pantheonic Church to attempt to ban another deity's worship, that being Toval, a deity from Canvas. This attempt ultimately failed due to resistance from other members of the Pantheon, eroding Feruul's influence even further.]