Elder Wave shut the book in his lap, giving it a caress as he deposited it in its ironbound storage chest. Using a key hanging from a cord he wore around his neck, he locked the lock and slid the container underneath his bed.

The past week had been taxing on the elder, a series of highs and lows that left him mentally exhausted. On rising this morning he had only been able to indulge in half the usual fare, his stomach so knotted with anxiety and rage that he dared not try and keep more down. Reading the book -- his treasured catalog of prizes -- was his only indulgence and comfort, helping him calm his nerves.

The death of his nephew had irritated and infuriated the elder. Soaring Wave had underestimated his opponent and had paid the price for it with his life. The rank incompetence galled him, but the boy had been his nephew and chosen successor. No others in the Wave family had the investment put into them that the boy had, and now that investment had been wasted.

It had not taken very long after examining the corpses of the dead to guess that the River brat was more deeply involved than the others suspected. Only Elder Wave had seen those two corpses out in the grasslands, and had connected them to the boy's habit of wandering out there. The rest of the elders suspected the boy hadn't only been concealing his cultivation but had happened upon a treasure of some sort; only he had a theory connecting the boy's rapid ascent with several murders.

Elder Wave was not willing to share this information with the others. Each of them had been stranded a step below the chief, and each of them was looking for opportunities to break through their lifelong bottlenecks. He was not going to offer up possible ascension to his rivals when he could seize it for himself.

He had thus turned to his only possible allies: the bandits of the nearby outpost of the Dragon's Den. He had long reached an accommodation with the men there, one that the elders were aware of the existence of if not the extent and purpose. His visit there to make his arrangements was not a movement out of the ordinary since he often made such trips.

The elder was still irritated at the exorbitant rate that had been promised to the men, but he was confident that once he had rooted out the boy's secret and broken through his bottleneck that he'd recoup the costs. Revenge was a consideration, but the calculation for Elder Wave remained on the value of the boy's secret. Becoming an essence cultivator and the extension of his lifespan and increase in his strength was more than worth ten times what he had paid.

Now would come the problematic task: separating the boy out from under the aegis of Elders Ripple and Cloud. Ripple was Elder Wave's principal rival among the elders, and so he was hardly surprised to find the man standing athwart him in the matter, but Cloud was an eccentric variable. The man rarely partook in the power struggles of the clan, instead acting as a tool of enforcement.

He did not think too long about Cloud's involvement, though. The man was a simple warrior, not a schemer, and so all Elder Wave had to do was locate the proper lever to move him aside. As a warrior, the man would understand the need to temper a recruit rather than keeping him confined.

Elder Wave pondered the problem through the evening as he picked at his supper. He needed to make the arrangements before the chief exited seclusion and decided to take a personal hand in affairs. As he was settling in again and thinking he would sleep on it, a knock came from the front of the house.

As he had already dismissed his servants for the evening, the elder rose to see who had arrived. Opening the door, he saw that it was one of the clan guards who usually watched the gates.

"Um, sir," the man dipped his head in a slight bow, "there is a man at the northern gate who says he has business with you. Says it's about a delivery you wanted to know about."

Elder Wave frowned. "Thank you. Lead the way." He considered what this meant as he followed the sentry. A visitor from the north would match someone coming from the bandit outpost, but what could that mean this soon?

"Tell me, has anybody else been out through the northern gate this evening?" Elder Wave asked the sentry as they made their way through the compound.

"Uh, hm..." the sentry's brow furrowed as he sorted through his memory. "Just that new red-haired warrior, sir. We don't question the warriors when they do, sir."

Elder Wave nodded. So the River boy had left that way, for whatever reason. Had the brat let a little bit of new strength go to his head and gone to fight the bandits, ending up captured?

Approaching the northern gate, he recognized the messenger as Bucktooth, one of the regulars stationed at the outpost. He turned to the sentry and waved a dismissal, "Thank you, I recognize this man. I'll take it from here." The sentry gave a short bow and withdrew to the gatehouse.

"Bucktooth, what a surprise seeing you here so soon!" Elder Wave greeted the bandit messenger.

Momentary confusion flickered on the man's face before he responded. "Ah, yes Mister Wave. We received your merchandise a short while ago, and I was sent to inform you of the arrival."

The bandits sometimes had trouble with the delicate language involved in doing business with Elder Wave, and so he did not fault the man his moment of extra thought. "Well then, lead on. I'm eager to take a look." He deferred asking for any details, since Boss Coal, their unit leader, would have a complete and intelligible report anyway.

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The two men navigated the small dirt paths cut through the grasslands in silence, the moonlight illuminating the way. It took some self-control not to leave the messenger behind and rush ahead, but Elder Wave felt it wise to not do something to raise suspicions.

Nobody greeted them when they reached the outpost, but that was hardly surprising given how sparsely staffed they were. Elder Wave let Bucktooth continue to walk ahead of him and stood back as the man opened the door and entered the mound first. He followed after, his heart pounding as his level of excitement rose.

"Hey guys, payment's here!" Bucktooth shouted across the antechamber as he walked towards the interior door. The man fumbled for a moment at the second door as Elder Wave caught up right behind him. The bandits in the other room were surprisingly taciturn as their messenger made his announcement and opened the door, but the first glance inside immediately highlighted the reason why.

Thunk-thunk-thunk! Bucktooth spasmed as blood blossomed from his forehead, throat, and chest, falling to the floor. Elder Wave jumped back but was able to have a view of the inner chamber of the outpost.

The room was an utter disaster, tables overturned or outright shattered, four corpses strewn throughout the chamber. Sitting in a chair in the middle of the room was the River boy, smiling and flipping a gold coin idly. "Nice of you to show up, Elder Wave. I arranged some privacy for us, just you and me."

Elder Wave's right hand slipped under his left sleeve and drew the dagger he kept concealed there. Torchlight glinted off the burnished blade as he snarled at the boy. "What's the meaning of this madness, boy?"

The boy stood and dismantled the chair with a swift kick behind himself. None of this interrupted the flow of the coin flipping in the air and landing back on his thumb to be flipped again. "Madness? I'd ask you much the same. I've seen the other room already."

Elder Wave snorted, unafraid of this upstart ambusher. "The Dragon's Den, roused, can wipe out our clan ten times over without breaking a sweat. And you've just provoked them! I've only done some business with them, keeping our relations cordial. You've committed a grave crime against the clan!"

The boy gave an eye-roll at that and began walking forward. "Like I give two craps about any of that. Since they turn a blind eye to a monster like you, destroying it ten times over wouldn't be enough to wipe out the shame of producing a worm like you."

The elder stepped back, brandishing his blade. "Don't think because you can ambush a few thugs that you can take me, boy. That would be a grave mistake since I'm the only one who can find you a way out of this!"

"Oh?" Strong River expressed interest in the offer. "And what would you take in return for that assistance? And before you mention it, paying a visit to your little room back there isn't on the table."

Elder Wave snorted. The boy would end up there sooner or later but later would suffice if he could get what he was seeking. "Your secret, boy. You have some sort of bloodsucking art; I know that. I want it, and your silence."

The boy arched an eyebrow. "Only that one? You're missing out on so much more if I give you just that, you know." He shrugged indifferently as the gold coin landed on his thumb again. "Not that I'm going to give you a damn thing."

The gold coin shot out, and Elder Wave met the projectile with his dagger, deflecting it into a wall. "Nice bluster, but I see through your trick, boy."

"Allow me to show you some of what you forgot to ask for, then," Strong River replied, leaping forward and aiming a punch at the hand grasping the dagger. The action was fast enough that Elder Wave could not bring the blade to bear, and so they met fist to fist instead. The shock of impact numbed the elder's arm, and he dropped the knife. His left fist swung up in a quick follow-up punch, reaching the boy before he could react with a block.

Or so Elder Wave thought at first.

The boy's outline blurred strangely, and the punch failed to connect. As the blur resolved, the elder found his left forearm clutched in the grasp of both of the boy's hands. With a lurch, the boy tugged on the arm, and the room spun as he whirled Elder Wave around a few times before letting go.

Slamming into one of the wood-paneled walls with enough force to leave a spiderweb of cracks, the elder staggered as he steaded himself. The boy was a fiend! Elder Wave could not decide which of his inhuman strength or supernatural speed was the more terrifying. He darted a glance around but found himself far from the door leading out of the mound and with the red-haired beast in a boy's skin in the way of his escape.

"Let's talk about this, Strong River," he offered in a more conciliatory manner than before, "we can work through this. I have connections, influence. Soaring Wave was a weak heir, unworthy of the wealth he was born into, but I could make that wealth yours. Whatever you want, it can be yours, if you would listen."

"Really?" the devilish youth replied. "So, you can raze the Dragon's Den to the ground?"

Elder Wave frowned. "No, let's be--"

"Okay, well then can you bring back the dead?"

The elder snorted. "Be reasonable, boy. Face reality. There's a lot I can offer you--"

"Yes, yes, so you keep saying," the monstrous young warrior interrupted again. "But in this case, there's only one other thing you can offer me that I have any interest in: your life."

"Dream on. Kill me and be damned, you freak."

"Damned?" The red-maned monster laughed. "I'd rather think I'll be blessed. You're just a bag into which the clan has poured an immense amount of resources; when I'm finished, all that will become mine. What kind of damnation is that?"

Before the elder could offer a retort, the devilish youth blurred again, this time hurtling forward into him, slamming him against the wall. The boy laughed as he grasped Elder Wave's neck and lifted him up, the elder's back pressed into the wall.

A surge of weakness flowed over Elder Wave as he began to struggle, kicking his legs futilely against the wall of steel that was Strong River. The two locked gazes in a final contest of will as the older man felt himself grow too feeble for any other kind of resistance. In the end, he would not give this bastard devil child the satisfaction of thinking he could defeat an esteemed elder of the Flowing Water clan even in death.

Madness danced in the boy's eyes, and something else. Elder Wave gave a breathless gasp as the world began to darken before him. Those eyes would be the last thing he ever saw, and under that final gaze, they underwent a drastic change. The irises transformed, no longer the dirty peasant brown of before. Now they were a devilish red, the color of blood.

If he had a breath remaining, Elder Wave might have laughed. As he had foretold, the boy was damned.