I’d almost been afraid that something had happened at the sect in my absence. But when I returned, nothing had changed. So I breathed a covert sigh of relief, still a little apprehensive about the spirit’s warning and the feelings that preceded it, and got back to work.
While I kept up with formations and sparring practice, I now had two more areas added to my research list, spending most of my time in the library to work on it.
I’d asked the guards about the incident before the spirit, but they claimed not to have noticed anything suspicious. Following my hunch, I questioned them about scrying and locating people, and researched it in the library. However, while some techniques could potentially break the shielding put on me, none of them were easy or possible without some sort of link to me. And if they had succeeded, no one would have noticed, certainly not with some kind of doom sensing. But I couldn’t rule it out, and while the sect’s library was extensive, there would be lots of techniques I couldn’t find here.
After I’d read through the last of the books I’d marked as possibilities, I threw my pen down in disgust and stalked out. The weather had turned, and now gloomy skies sent down a drizzle that seemed determined to soak into everything. I tilted my face up into the rain, letting the water soothe me. This world’s rain smelled clean and fresh, and I could drink it without worrying about acidity or pollution.
I should go back to my other research, but I just couldn’t make myself do that at the moment. If this had been frustrating, then poring over tomes of law could make me go crazy. Metaphorically. I mean, there have been people who called me crazy, but that’s just hurtful. I was more sane than any of them.
Still, even trying to take a break and relax in the rain, I couldn’t make myself settle down. I got like that sometimes. My thoughts were always going, running around, pressing forward, impossible to shut off. It’s gotten better since my — my death. Maybe because of the constant meditation I do here for cultivation practice. Maybe it actually helps. I wonder if my family has the same problem? Maybe it’s a genius thing. Maybe they even have something that helps. But do I really want to take medication? I don’t even really need it. I like my thoughts, generally.
Rubbing my temple, I decided some physical activity might help me unwind, so I started jogging. Maybe I’d be lucky enough to find a training courtyard empty in the rain. If not, I’d just ignore the stares and practice my moves anyway. While I looked for one, I started to go over what I’d learned in regards to my other headache.
I’d hoped I could find some law they were breaking. If the sect was actually doing something illegal, it would make things a lot easier. Unfortunately, while they certainly had predatory business practices, they all kept within the letter of the rules. None of the villagers’ human rights were actually violated, at least so far as this country had them. Basically Mother’s new civil rights. Those all came back to the Empress’ authority, technically, there was nothing like an international charter.
Well, there were other options, but I’d prefer letting the courts handle it.
Finally, I did find an empty training spot in an out-of-the way corner. There was a rack of weapons that looked like they’d rust onto their places with a few more rainfalls. But I grabbed a practice spear, anyway. That would be an easy and effective weapon for someone with little training, so I’d concentrated on it so far. While swords were cool, I didn’t like them enough to put in the effort of training for years.
Blinking against the water streaming down my face, I started a kata Ling Ta had shown me. The rain intensified, pouring down in a steady deluge, but I didn’t mind. This was good training, anyway. And yet, I couldn’t quite concentrate on the moves. In the back of my mind, I kept chewing over the laws and what I might do, even though I’d gone over it all before.
One time, my attention wandered enough that I almost stabbed myself in the foot. Cursing, I threw the spear down, shaking wet hair out of my eyes. Good days and bad ones, and today’s a bad day. I wish I could just curl up on the couch with a good book.
“Your Highness.”
I whirled around to see San Hashar standing behind me. The rain slid off an invisible shield above her. As I watched, her qi flickered and the shield extended to cover me.
I picked up my spear, put it into storage and cycled some light qi. Frowning in concentration, I nudged the qi I gathered around me just a bit, until it emitted no visible light anymore. Instead, warmth bathed me as it converted to infrared, starting to dry the wetness. When I tried moving the qi around, it felt like a breeze, as if I’d turned on a weak hair dryer.
“Yes?” I asked.
“A message from the palace, my lady. Her Majesty the Empress invites you back due to a family matter.”
That didn’t sound good. “Which is?”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The guard hesitated. “Your Highness, it’s about Prince Alaster. He’s in a coma.”
Definitely not a good day.
----------------------------------------
I stared out the window, not really seeing the landscape passing by. We should be almost to the palace. I hoped. I’d spent most of the trip deep in thought, going in circles.
Al would be okay. There was no reason to think otherwise.
I’d need to talk to Mother about a lot of things. The village and the social structure of the Empire, for one. My ideas about technologies. Maybe I should make a list. But it wasn’t like I could forget anything.
I should probably visit Kariva, too. While I didn’t know who my guards reported to, I had a feeling it went through her.
“Is there anything you might require, Your Highness?” San Hashar asked.
I turned around. The soldier looked concerned. Maybe she was nicer than I’d given her credit for. I could probably use some conversation. “What did you do before you guarded me, San Hashar?”
She took a step closer. “I had many different postings in the last few decades. My most recent one was at the eastern shores. The longest and most interesting put me at the southern border. The culture in the south is quite fascinating, with vibrant holidays and a style of music just made for dancing. The threat of raids from the south cast a shadow over it, however. Although in my time there, I was never faced with a raid.”
I nodded. The southern border. Its mention jarred loose something in my memory. Didn’t Carston leave for the southern border? Aston had said that after I asked him about my probable father, but little more. Everyone else avoided the question. “Did you meet Carston?”
The soldier looked uncomfortable at his mention. “Not there, no. I did meet Lord Carston one time at the Imperial Palace, about two decades ago. But he was long … gone by the time I was dispatched to the south.”
Gone, huh? “What do you know about what happened?”
San Hashar shifted a bit, but then she squared her shoulders. “I know the raid he was caught in came without warning. No one ever heard from him again, of course, and he’s presumed dead. But his body was never found, and there are rumors among the troops that he isn’t.”
I blinked. That sounds like foul play. Is Mother behind that? No, that’s not like her. She would have made sure he died, anyway. The way it sounds, I doubt he really did. But … said to be dead.
“Thank you. Give me a moment, please.”
The soldier bowed and backed away, a look of understanding on her face. She probably thought I wanted to be alone to process the information about my father.
I spread some darkness qi around myself as a cover against observers, creating a spark of light qi to let me see. Then I pulled out the piece of paper I’d found in my vault at the palace. I hadn’t paid it much mind since before the sect. Although I’d memorized its contents, I wanted to take another look. It didn’t show any traces of qi. Thoughtfully, I turned it over in my hands, reading the first part again.
My dreams?
Leaving alone and said to be dead.
Why do spirits like me?
There is more to us than it seems.
Something is off. Perhaps someone, I don’t know. Mother doesn’t like me asking questions about some things. It might be related, it might not.
The second line could easily refer to Carston. He’d probably left the palace alone, and was now presumed dead. I guess I can understand that part. I have questions about that myself.
For the next question, I had a tentative answer, too. That didn’t help me find what might be off about my predecessor’s experience. Although, come to think of it, why write that down at all? The old Inaris had an eidetic memory. I mean, I sometimes write things out to help me work through them. But the way this was stored in the vault, it suggests there might be more to it. Almost as if my old self, or whatever, wrote that for my future self to find. Did she know she was going on a soul journey soon?
I put the note back, planning to ask some questions when I returned.
I didn’t have to wait long. We’d already started the descent, and now touched down on the roof of a side building. I hadn’t know there was a landing pad here, but when I disembarked, I could see several roped off areas, containing nothing but clear, level stone covering the roof.
Guards awaited me, but I only spared them a nod before setting off. I barely noticed that San Hashar stayed on the airship with most of her unit. Aston was nowhere to be seen, but I recognized most of the Imperial Guard. They fell into step around me as I hurried into the palace proper.
Through empty corridors and staircases, it didn’t take me long to arrive at the family quarters. Stopping at Al’s door, I turned the handle and entered. His room was almost empty. I saw him lying in his bed, on top of the covers, eyes closed. His breathing was so faint I wouldn’t have noticed it as a normal human.
Sighing, I sat down at the chair beside the bed, reaching for his hand. It was warm, and checking showed a slow pulse.
After a moment, I turned around to the guard standing in the corner, a man in the early part of the sixth stage who I’d seen around before. “How long has it been?”
“Today is the third day, Your Highness.”
My grip tightened. Three days? And Mother only saw fit to tell me now? I exhaled. “I guess she wanted to be sure it was his soul journey.”
The guard didn’t reply. I let go of Alaster’s hand and turned around to watch him more closely. “Is there any way to tell when someone is about to start their soul journey?”
“It seems to be mostly random,” a new voice said. The shadows in the corner swirled until Leri Kariva stepped out of them. “Your Highness.” She bowed to me.
At least they took this seriously, if Kariva herself was watching him. I inclined my head. “Please tell me more.”
“Some think that a significant change in experiences or attitudes can trigger it. But most are skeptical of that. Furthermore, there is a tendency for someone about to undergo their soul journey to become quiet, distracted, and listless. As if their souls were preparing for departure.”
I scratched my temple. So they could have suspected this was coming, like my predecessor could have.
“There isn’t any way to stop it, is there?”
Kariva shook her head, expression sober. “No. It is simply something our family’s bloodline effects. Whatever ancient ritual or strange art caused it gives us no control over the soul journeys.”
I nodded, and we fell silent.
For a while, I simply watched the boy. Wondering what world he was living in.