“Long ago, before this land was broken in twain and the great valley crawled towards the horizon, there was the sea.”
Rei Ji waves his hand, the slightly headache-inducing visual effect of a spatial ring activating with the motion as he summons a small tea set onto the room’s low table. There is a central jug, a small brazier that he lights with a slight push of Qi, both ornate and delicate; two ceramic bowls, a mortar, a ladle, and a whisk, all equally fine. Patiently, carefully, he begins the process of crafting tea, grinding the herbs in front of Raika and keeping the process visible as he does. There’s an air of ritual to the behavior, a mix of politeness and an acknowledgement of the dangers of poison all at once, and before long, the scent of the leaves begins to fill the room.
“Before the Empire, long before many of even the Sects of the eastern rings, the sea remained. The sun up above crawled and spiraled and writhed, and yet for all its many mouths and slithering bodies, for all its endless flame, it could not reach into the sea. The land, for all its rolling mountains and wandering beasts, could not drink the sea’s water, or touch its center, still and dark within it. My people acknowledged other places of the world, of course, other wonders or bodies of water, but, as all people do, they embraced primarily what was before them, and grew to worship the vast, quiet stillness of the cold waters, always fresh. It is said that cultivation in this region came from the lake, that to meditate on its stillness and drink of its deeper waters was to unlock one’s soul and begin to draw in the blood of the world.”
Despite herself, Raika is interested, if only partially for the story. The politeness is… refreshing. As is being treated as someone worthy of courtesy. She keeps the mask still, its face annoyed and bored in equal measure, making sure to embody the image of a witless bruiser- but inside, she tracks Rei Ji carefully, taking his measure as he moves and speaks. There’s an element of sincerity here that says he values the story he’s telling, and considering how he seems to embrace being subtle, she’s careful to track his inflections and listen closely.
“Of course, as with all things in this world, things changed. Eventually, there were other great powers who came to the land, perhaps tempted by the sea, perhaps for their own reasons. It was in a great battle between three of these outsiders that the world was broken, and the scar you know as the Crag came to be.
Would it surprise you to know that we don’t know their names? Oh, they probably had very important names, dreadfully important titles, and your Empire claims to know who did it. They also claim they’ll last until the end of time, so who knows. But for the simple people of the still and quiet sea, the best we could offer against them, in our powerlessness, was to forget them from our history for their crime. For you see, in their battle, these beings, one a cultivator, one an ascended beast, and one something altogether else, broke the stillness of the water.”
The fine powder of the leaves rests in one bowl, and then in the other, parceled out ritually, precisely. Outside the room, the arena thunders, the sound of heavy blows powerful enough to shatter boulders ringing through the air and an overwhelming smell of pressure coating and crushing any other scents coming from it, but Rei Ji says nothing.
With small, precise motions, he opens the lid of the ceramic jug, letting wisps of steaming water rise from it. It moves uniformly, rising in a perfect, unwavering column of condensation, and as he picks up the slim ladle, he bows slightly to it, before scooping the water from the kettle into the first bowl. Quickly but still carefully, he picks up the whisk, stirring the powdered leaves into the water until they have fully dissolved and changed it to a deep, bluish-purple color, like that of a vibrant bruise.
She detects the moment where there’s an expectation of response, a sense of ritual interrupted, but before she can decide to reshape her mask to something else, he has placed the bowl down towards her end of the small table. The mask maintains the air of arrogant impatience, but she does lean forward and pick up the bowl.
Rei Ji says nothing, instead completing his own bowl in much the same ritualistic way, before toasting Raika and guiding her to take a small sip at the same time as him.
Thunderous applause and screaming roar in from the open window as overwhelming impressions of Qi and technique clash violently against each other. Bodies move at speeds that blur their movement, impacts shake the stone around them, and esoteric power radiates from the central arena.
The tea is delicious. Thick, yet delicate at the same time, and giving the impression of a sweetened molasses while still flowing smooth.
“The sea had broken alongside the land,” Rei Ji continues. “While the blow missed that serene body, its branching cracks broke the ground beneath the sea. Since then, it has lost its stillness, the source of the calm which created such a unique cultivation aid and beauty, which created the environment that sustained so much. It has, ever so slowly, been draining down into the Crag ever since. Some believe it will someday equalize. That it’s worth it, to be able to mine the resources and beauty which fill the earth within the scar. Some marvel above all at the joys of a thriving metropolis, feeding on these things.”
Raika smiles. “And I suppose you disagree?”
Rei Ji takes another long, slow sip of his tea, holding the bowl in both hands and turning it slightly before each drink, then sets it back down again.
“I believe in caring for others. In providing structure and safety and calm, that those who need them might find enlightenment within them. I believe in stopping the encroaching chaos and mess that comes from a place built to thrive, but not live. I am no fool, to see only what I wish for from the legends of the past. But I know things can be different, and that the peace in the sea has long been eclipsed by the exploitation of the ground. I know that my home wilts while our riches are sent to far off lands by those with vested interests in the development of the Crag and this beautiful city, to enrich the empire as a whole and those it chooses.”
He smiles, small and polite and cold. “And now, one of the empire’s own private menagerie asks to meet me, through a type of creature known for its political trickery. I apologize if I have in any way offended your sensibilities or patience with my ramblings, then.”
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Behind the mask she laughs, hard, smiling wide, but on the surface she just grimaces, nodding and tossing back the tea (which is a fucking waste, it is delicious). Not too gently she sets the bowl back onto the table and sighs, cracks her neck, and leans forward towards Rei Ji.
“None of that tells me what I want to know, though, does it? Fancy tea and some old myth. You were already following me out in the streets, weeks ago. You don’t get to act high and mighty about politics and shit now. I want to hear about your boss.”
Rei Ji sighs, giving her that sort of parental look; “I’m not mad, just disappointed (hint; I am also mad)”.
“She’s not my ‘boss’, as you put it,” he says, setting his own bowl back onto the table more politely. “I had hoped that would be obvious. I serve, to the best of my ability, for the good of the city of Cragend, and the land and people it has claim over. I serve justice, as best I can. If I knew for certain which being you might be referring to, then I might say that she only serves herself.”
Raika grins. “Just like me. That makes it easy to work with, hmm?”
This time the look he gives is a bit more intent. There’s a slight stirring in the air as his Qi quiets it, like a puddle of calm beneath a rippling lake, though not in any quantities that present as a threat.
“I had hoped not. It was… interesting, seeing one of your kind assisting one of the downtrodden, and I had assumed your leash was less willingly chosen. When we last spoke, a… junior of mine called you the, ah, “privileged daughter of some valued mutant or noble-born brat”, and yet you did not strike first. When I asked why you helped that boy, you said it was because you chose to, with nothing else to balance it. It painted an altogether different picture than the woman who sits before me now.”
She can’t help but let her grin out onto her mask. “What can I say, justicar? I’m a woman of many faces. I chose to help that boy. I chose to start this tournament. Why is mine to know or not. Your choice, then, is whether or not you’re smart enough to point me the right way.”
And, she thinks, if I’m clever enough to see where you’ve pointed me.
He sighs, shifting in his seat. With a movement of his hand, the space between them warps once again along an angle that gives her a migraine and slips the tea set away into his spatial ring once more.
“There were three whose names were struck from our legends the day the earth was wounded,” he says. “One, a cultivator. One, an ascended beast. And one, something altogether different. She has no name. She has no right to one. She was of a kind that was here in some form or another long before the arrival of your empire, and who held an uneasy peace even between the sects, but her blood is old. Her sisters were the war-witches that crafted Wolves against the Empire, and her nieces and nephews were the last to fall against their approach. She has her own retellings of history, and her own methods of shaping the world, but were it not for her choices… well. That is not mine to say.
You seek information on She Beneath Still Waters. If I knew of such a person, then I would say to you, in the fullness of my wisdom and strength, that all you need to know is that you should stay far from her. She is an old and malformed thing, and her roots are vile and twisting beneath the earth. How long she has lived I do not know, and what powers she holds… well. Your Empire didn’t leave many of their texts and records behind, and what they noted down is biased. Assume she is more than she appears to be. Her kind, if any do remain, are long since moved into the fourth ring, and it takes a special kind of strength and madness to survive, alone, in a world that looks at you as prey or competition to be culled.”
The mask scoffs, stops just short of rolling her eyes, and then pretends to be pensive, to think about it.
Inside, Raika can’t help but just… grin. Dangerous, yes. Risky, yes. But on the whole, the witch sounds like her kinda gal.
“Sure,” she eventually growls. “Thanks for the advice, justicar. So glad we got to meet again under better circumstances, hmm? Definitely worth it, not at all a waste of time.”
He shrugs. “Good tea and good advice are, in my opinion, never a waste of time.”
“That why you’re still only in Core Formation, then?”
He quirks his eyebrow, smiling faintly. “No shame in building a strong foundation. The more tools you have to begin with, the more you can build, and I intend to build quite a bit.”
She admires the wisdom, but pretends otherwise, laughing softly. “If you say so. I look forward to trouncing your sect on the battlefield later, hmm? Exciting days ahead for the tournament still.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to keep the masses entertained. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.”
He bows again, and exits out the way he came.
Kaena enters the room again not long after, coming over to Raika as she smokes the cigarette she’s kept hold of, staring out over the arena from the window.
“Not quite the rousing success you expected, then?” they ask.
Raika smiles, the mask allowed to rest and a mix of exhaustion and manic energy on full display instead.
“On the contrary. Informative as fuck, I’d say.”
“Oh? I didn’t think you had such an interest in old myths.”
“I don’t. But he let slip a few comments when I annoyed him. ‘Her roots are vile and twisting beneath the earth’. Between that and the name, I’ve got a start on where to look.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Wherever the witch is, whatever it is she wants, between her scent, her name, and that little story and its hints, there’s only one place she could be. She’s in the Crag, somewhere deep, someplace where the waters have gone quieter.”
“A bit of an assumption, don’t you think?” Kaena asks as they drape themselves over the same couch Raika vacated.
Raika laughs, soft and husky from the smoke. “Sure. But it’s a start.”
“And I don’t suppose you have plans about how to get to this mystery woman, still?”
“Nope. But that’s fine. I’ve got plenty to do up here still. The more distracted by the tournament people get, the more people will get comfortable making plays in the background, and while you deal with that, I’ll be busy getting hit, learning, and hitting back.”
Kaena laughs softly. “I would recommend therapy, but I suppose that’s out of the question for our Division, hmm? Still, what makes you think I’ll follow along with this whole cat-and-mouse game you think you’re setting up, hmm? All to, what, catch a little old conspiracy or two?”
Raika shrugs. “Maybe. I just know that at least one of the three we ran into smelled a lot more of stone than of water, and if the sects are cooperating behind the scenes or have rogue elements, there’s plenty we can benefit from in that mess, and plenty of opportunity to get Taurus a win while getting me what I need.”
Then she turns fully to Kaena, smiling. She exhales a long cloud of smoke in the androgynous honeypot’s direction, coloring the space between them a dark, foggy sapphire blue.
“Besides, I’m not stupid enough to think I can convince you to do anything you don’t want to. If you don’t want to do it, all you have to do is say so.”
Kaena says nothing, instead inhaling a bit of the smoke and coughing softly, covering their mouth politely as they do. The silence stretches on as they let themselves be stared at, matching Raika’s gaze with one of their own.
Eventually, they do break the silence, a slow smile forming as they exhale the smoke back out in a new current to the cloud rolling around them.
“Getting awful arrogant, beastie.”
“In fools, it’s arrogance. In me, it’s called being sexy.”