Where there is life, there is hope, but hope alone was not enough to sustain a life.

Turning the phrase over and over again in her mind, Akanai sat on the divan with her ax-lance laid out over her knees. Rain lay on the ground before her, asleep in a pile of all his pets, having come here of his own volition after his bath. The bears were only all too happy to cuddle up beside him, unable to do so on a bed now that they were so large, and the crowd only grew from there. The wildcats, rabbits, turtles, and birds were all huddled around him, basking in his presence as they rested peacefully together. Mila, Yan, Lin, Zheng Luo, and possibly even Song might’ve joined him if Akanai hadn’t sent them all back to their beds, leaving her alone with the boy to contemplate his fate, one which lay squarely upon her shoulders, and hers alone.

The decision was simple, for she had many reasons to end his life, and hope was all that stayed her hand. A dangerous thing, to rely solely on hope, a lesson hard-learned in Akanai’s youth. Although hope was vital to hold fast to on those darkest of nights, hope alone would not fill her belly or shield her from the elements, nor would it do anything to stop the would-be murderers and rapists of the world. Unfortunately, there were all too many hopeful fools out there, men and women who relied solely on optimism and nothing else when tackling the trials and tribulations of the Mother Above, only to cry and complain if matters did not work out. They were the sort to build their homes on a flood plain and lament loudly when the inevitable deluge took everything away, or spoil their children and wonder why the second generation was so lacking in comparison to the first. These same self-entitled fools were prime targets for the Father’s foul minions, for their whispers promised exactly what those optimistic simpletons longed for, all the reward with none of the work. What they did not realize was that the only thing those empty promises provided was enough rope from which to hang themselves.

For the Father offered nothing but sweet lies and temptation in return for an eternity of damnation, yet even though humanity had been at odds with the Enemy for untold millennia, men and women still threw themselves at His feet in hopes that their outcome would be different from the countless billions before them.

Little Rain said it best himself, plan for the worst and hope for the best, a surprisingly sensible outlook coming from one so young. Then again, he’d been given precious little time to be young, and this mindset might well have saved his life in the mines, or at the very least, helped him keep his soul and sanity intact. Much as she admired him for enduring where so many others would have faltered and fallen, she would be lying if she said she had no reservations regarding his continued existence. When the pup brought his little foundling home, Akanai had advised him to do the humane thing and end the boy’s life before his soul was too far gone to save, but to call Baatar stubborn was akin to calling water wet. The man embodied obstinance like no one else, none save perhaps little Rain himself, and even though the pup expected he would soon have to put the foundling down, he could not let go of hope and disappoint the optimistic, wide-eyed Alsantset.

Perhaps this was Akanai’s bias as a long-lived demi-human showing, but she believed the pup and his daughter would soon come to regret their choice of companions. Not to say Akanai believed they should have done otherwise, but the sad truth of the matter was that Alsantset and Baatar were all but destined to become grieving widow and widower. Akanai had seen her half-beast friends lose many a human spouse after a long life spent in love, and she would not wish that sort of pain and misery on even her worst enemy. The pup and the girl both married young, which meant they each would have at most a hundred years of happy marriage to cherish, and four-hundred years of loss to manage. Most said it was enough, that they would not trade their happy memories for anything, but Akanai saw many of her friends live out their lives in lonely sorrow and she was not so sure it was worth it.

Yet even knowing all this, Akanai had betrothed her precious daughter to a human boy, because she knew how rare true love could be. A shame the boy was likely to die before even a hundred years, for despite little Rain’s adherence to caution and prudence when it came to matters of planning, he was deeply in love with courting death and taking impossible risks in the heat of the moment. Akanai saw it firsthand when the boy charged a Demon with little more than a basic spear, and this was but the first of many examples to draw from. Would little Mila come to regret loving Rain after his passing? Likely yes, but Akanai saw the budding love between them and could not help but draw parallels to her courtship with Husolt, so she hoped against all hopes that her daughter would find happiness without heartbreak.

So perhaps Akanai was not so wise at all, merely a fool like any other. She was fortunate to have found someone to hold hands and grow old with, but little Mila’s path would be far more difficult than her own.

It was all part and parcel of the duality of Akanai’s nature, her human and half-caribou heritage, the latter of which she’d only recently come to embrace. Which part of her was the one screaming at her to kill Rain now then, as she stood guard over his peacefully sleeping form? The human, or the beast, she supposed it didn’t really matter, as both came together as a whole to form the person who became Akanai of the People, Daughter of Sumila, Wife of Husolt, Mother of Baatar, Mila, and Li Song, Founder and Chief Provost of the Sentinels, and Peak Expert of the Empire.

A woman who could not, in good conscience, murder Falling Rain, not even for the greater good.

And so all she had left was hope, hope that her worst fears would not come to pass and everything would turn out for the best, but as far as she could tell, she was standing upon the riverbank with no end to the storm in sight. Despite Du Min Gyu’s blind optimism, the pup’s unfounded hopes, and her idiot husband’s easygoing demeanour, Akanai was not so sure it was safe to leave Rain unchecked, and her fear only grew as the pup’s periodic reports trickled in over the course of the night. As far as he could tell, the sizable cavity was where Rain initiated the attack, unleashing a powerful opening blow even Akanai could not match. The Mountain Collapsing Stomp, Mitsue Juichi’s signature attack, and while Rain’s results paled in comparison to the Living Legend’s, it was still enough to topple the walls of the manor Rain had built for Alsantset and Charok. Granted, this was assuming the boy targeted a load-bearing structure with the intent to bring the building down, but given his current mental state, it was impossible to predict how he might behave in any given circumstance.

What worried Akanai the most was the source of Rain’s newfangled prowess. While the boy had yet to wholly succumb to the Father’s foul lies, if one often walks by the riverside, one’s shoes will eventually get wet. Since his escape from the slave mines, the boy’s life had been one constant struggle with Balance, one Akanai did little to help with. It was sink or swim for him, and in those early months, she would have preferred the boy sink and be done with it. In fact, she put the pup’s foundling out of mind until Rain sparked little Mila’s interest and reminded Akanai of his existence. During their first meeting, she watched him Demonstrate the Forms and was certain his results were the fruit of his own labour, because if little Rain had been Defiled, then he would have been a much more talented Warrior. Still, she saw that he was polite, a quick study, possessed good instincts, and was devilishly clever, perhaps even too clever for his own good. Most importantly was his ability to persevere, persisting in their punishing spar where so many others would have long since given up. He had pluck and resilience in spades, but as Old Sumila used to always say, “The true measure of a person is how they handle hardship, for only then will they reveal their true colours.”

And so, Akanai forced Rain out of his comfortable little rut and brought him out into the world, because she thought that if he were to snap and break then it would be best if he did so sooner rather than later. At least that’s what she told herself, so that she could sleep easier at night. In truth, she’d grown fond of the boy after their first meeting, because he brought to mind memories of a happier time. There was little of his parents in him, and in fact, she would daresay he was more like the pup and Sarnai than anyone else, but this was a blessing more than curse. The Sentinels might not survive if history should repeat itself, which was why so many of her Warriors kept their distance from Rain, but he possessed a certain charm that made it all but impossible to resist. One only needed to look at how easily he won hearts and inspired loyalty in everyone he met, turning hated foes into stalwart allies and former rivals into steadfast friends.

And what Akanai loved most of all was how much he reminded her of Old Sumila, working himself to the bone to help others in need without expectation of thanks or gratitude. Take his earliest business endeavour, selling medicines to Shen Huo. With Taduk’s connections, Rain could have easily partnered with an established pharmacy and made coin hand over fist with all the prescriptions he’d uncovered in his teacher’s dusty library, but instead, he employed the less fortunate families within the village to produce his medicines and let them keep the lion’s share of the profits, while taking only a pittance for himself after factoring in the cost of shipping and spoilage.

Of course, the boy then wasted that pittance on alcohol and women of ill-repute, but Fung shared much of the blame for introducing Rain to such vices at so young an age, a character flaw Akanai meant to hammer out of her Disciple.

This wasn’t the end of the boy’s charitable acts either. While fighting alongside the army, he befriended a band of crippled vagabonds who were now some of his most loyal subordinates. While patrolling the countryside around Sanshu, he took part in a Purge and almost rebelled because he could not stand seeing so many innocents suffer, and was now best friends with several of the Officers who went through that experience with him. After looting Yo Ling’s hidden island base, Rain used his ill-gotten gains to build a single school for the Empire, and now funded an entire network of schools that fed and educated children all throughout the Northern Province, all because he saw how the People looked after their own and wanted to spread this to the Empire at large. Most recently, he saw fit to populate the Western border with millions of civilian workers and ensuring they were given everything they needed to not only survive, but also thrive in a time when most citizens of the Empire were literally being worked to death by their noble employers and overseers.

Indeed, if Old Sumila were here, she would most certainly call Rain a ‘good lad’, the highest praise she had for anyone, including her beloved children. At most, Akanai had only ever been a ‘mighty fine lass with a few rough edges’, though Old Sumila loved her all the same.

This made it all the more difficult for Akanai to come to a proper decision regarding Rain’s fate, for Baatar and Naaran uncovered many clues which only raised more questions. They found shards of dark poisoned blades scattered all about the plains, signifying Rain had fought a hit and run battle against Enemy Wraiths, yet when questioned about who he fought, the boy was unable to decide if they were friend or foe. Was that why he came out here to meet them, in order to pledge himself to their dark cause? How else could they explain his meteoric rise in strength and comprehension? The herbal baths only refined his physical body, and did nothing to advance his understanding of the Dao, yet somehow, more than a year after he was crippled, Rain had made great strides along the Martial Path and might well have risen to the rank of Peak Expert. How could he have done so without succumbing to the Father’s lies? Surely this comprehension had to be a reward for his betrayal of humanity, for how else could they explain it?

Natural talent, is how.

As outrageous as this might sound, especially considering Rain’s late start to his journey, Akanai wanted to believe this was the result of the boy’s staggering latent capabilities. Despite his lack of a working Core, he was the one who first uncovered the secret to the Mountain Collapsing Stomp, though he did not know it at the time. A simple working of Reverberation and Amplification, he called it, carefully building up power using precise timing and momentum within the body before unleashing it all in one go. The boy likened it to sitting on a swing, but Akanai felt a more apt comparison would be a stone in a sling, building up speed and power as it whirled about only to be unleashed in a single direction. After hearing the description, she spent many a long day working to add this skill to her arsenal, for she coveted it greatly after seeing the havoc Mitsue Juichi wrought upon the battlefield, but alas, the Mother did not see fit to bless her with Insight.

Not so much a problem when there were technically only two Living Martial Warriors who’d mastered the trick, Mitsue Juichi himself and his traitorous great-nephew Hideo, but then little Rain came out of his three-month coma and unleashed a Mountain Collapsing Stomp on his first try. How many foes he killed using this initial attack, Akanai could not say, for the Enemy had seen fit to bring their dead away with them, but what she did know was that the boy had dealt a near fatal blow to her pride.

Thus far, they believed the boy only utilized the Mountain Collapsing Stomp a single time, but the trail uncovered by Naaran and the pup was far and wide-ranging indeed, proving beyond the shadow of a doubt that Rain was capable of Cloud-Stepping as well. Add to this his ability to Conceal and remain unnoticed even when slipping out from under the watch of trained Sentinels here to guard against just such an intruder, and Akanai feared the boy was far beyond her capabilities to contain. Though there was no doubt in her mind she would emerge victorious from a battle against him, she could not remain guarded and vigilant at all times. If the worst had come to pass and he was truly Defiled or lost to them, then how was Akanai supposed to protect her beloved family and keep this calamity from spreading to the Empire at large?

It didn’t help that she truly believed this was Rain before her, and not some ancient, body-stealing monster of legend. To think the reviled Zhen Shi was still alive when he should have long since passed away even before Akanai was born, but she believed Rain when he revealed the true mastermind behind the Enemy. She trusted him, which made this decision all the more difficult, because even though he was not in his right mind and could potentially bring disaster down upon them all, she wanted to believe everything would work out. Hope was all she had left, and although the pragmatic side told her this was not enough, she could not bring herself to do what she knew needed to be done.

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End Falling Rain’s life, and the rest would sort itself out. Leave him be, and he could snap at any moment, or worse, accidentally hurt or kill someone which might put him over the edge. Twice now, he’d demonstrated his inability to control his strength, first shortly after he woke up and followed directions to squeeze Taduk’s hand, and again when he stepped in to keep Naaran from defending himself against Song. Both times, he left bruises on the recipient’s arms, though Taduk had Healed his markings away so quickly she almost failed to see them. It was unmistakable with Naaran however, where the boy’s seemingly effortless hold left hairline fractures all along the man’s fist. Rain would not be the first Martial Warrior who suffered from being unable to control his own strength, so even without malice, he was capable of great harm. A Peak Expert’s strength constrained only by a stunted mind, one unable to string together a full sentence or contain his own emotions, a terrifying combination to consider. What if he went to hug sweet Tali or Tate and squeezed just a little too hard? Or if he turned around without looking and backhanded someone in the ribs? What if they did something to anger him, and he lashed out on reflex? What if someone startled him and he reacted to defend himself? What if he got it into his mind that someone was an enemy or a threat?

At the very least, she ought to bring him away and isolate him, but how was it possible to constrain someone with his capabilities? Falling Rain was now a Cloud-Stepping, Mountain Collapsing, Domain Concealing Warrior, and were this anyone else in his place, Akanai would have ended the threat to her family without needing to think twice. Night turned to day as the sun rose over the horizon, but despite struggling with this singular decision for several hours now, she still could not bring herself to act. Not just because Mila would never forgive her, or because Du Min Gyu would likely turn against her in rage, or because the pup and his wife would likely never speak to her again. For them, Akanai could bear their hatred and do what needed to be done, because she loved her family with all her heart and would do anything to protect them, but therein lay the problem.

Because Falling Rain was her grandson, Grand-Disciple, and son-in-law, whom she also loved with all her heart.

The birds were the first to stir, and even Akanai had to admit they were an adorable bunch, blinking sleepily as they puffed up their feathers and shook themselves awake. The rabbits were next, as prey animals were always cognizant of noise and possible danger, even ones as pampered and spoiled as these. Where the birds knew well enough to stay away, the rabbits had yet to learn she was not as indulgent as others, and a handful hopped over to nuzzle her shins in hopes of receiving a pre-breakfast treat, while the rest greeted one another amidst a flurry of morning groomings. As the rabbits were not the stealthiest of beasts, their antics woke the others, but the bears and wildcats did little more than blink and glance about, wholly relaxed and as still as could be until all the smaller, more fragile animals were out of the way. It always amazed Akanai to see such powerful predators treat what might well be their next meal with such tender care and affection, especially the large, ponderous, ungainly bears. Banjo and Baloo were always so delicate with the birds and rabbits, nuzzling them ever so gently while minding their claws and fangs. It was honestly a miracle none of those rodents had been squashed to death underfoot, or underbelly perhaps would be the better term, given their penchant for burrowing beneath other animals as they slept, but these bears were the epitome of the phrase ‘gentle giant’.

Aside from Mama Bun and the Guardian Turtle who slept like the dead, the last to wake was Rain, or perhaps he was simply the last one Akanai noticed, lying ensconced within his pile of pets with not even a hint of a smile to be seen. The only real emotion he’d physically exhibited was a singular soft smile, one he broke out when she brought his miraculously reformed sword back to him. One of the others had found it sticking in the ground amidst a smattering of grass, dropped there after Rain’s battle against the Wraiths. The rest of the time, the boy’s expression was a mirror of Song’s, frozen in callous nonchalance and indifferent neutrality.

But his eyes and his Aura, those told a different story altogether.

Love was not enough to describe, for it was warmth and affection, gratitude and appreciation, care and attachment, a plethora of earnest and adoring sensations delivered all at once. Underneath all this was a melancholic cast to his Aura, but though she felt its presence, she was unaffected by it in any direct way. All of the wistful dejection she sensed was directed inward, reserved by Rain, for Rain, and Rain alone, but he was unable to contain it. In this single burst of Aura, the boy was saying, “Good Morning”, “I love you”, “Thank you”, and “I’m sorry”, all at once, an outpouring of genuine sentiment which let her know the state of his mind.

Du Min Gyu was right. There was nothing wrong with Rain’s mental state, for he was as rational as ever. The problem then lay elsewhere, though where, Akanai could not say, and even Taduk was at a loss on how to proceed.

Time then. Time and care, and hopefully, the boy would recover on his own. A baseless hope, unsupported by any facts or logic, but hope was all she had.

An outpouring of understanding emanated from the boy, and his eyes told her everything she needed to know. There was love there, again, yet also resignation, mixed with fear, shame, and self-recrimination. “We both know what must be done,” he was saying, not in so many words, but there was no mistaking it. “I love you, and I am sorry I must ask you to do this, but no one else will.”

In a few simple emotions, the boy bared his mind and soul to her, revealing a scared, anxious young man who was terrified of what he might do. He knew her thoughts and shared her fears, but worst of all, he agreed with her assessment. The depths of his concern outstripped even her own, because he would never forgive himself if he hurt someone he loved. Though he was proud of his accomplishments, he didn’t understand how he did what he did, nor was he aware of the reason why he left the manor without alerting anyone to fight his foes in complete secrecy. The boy was as lost as the rest of them, full of questions with no answers to be found, but he now posed a threat to his family and knew what needed to be done. The only way to keep everyone safe was to eliminate the threat completely, and he would do anything to protect the people he loved.

And it was this love and devotion through which the Father attacked him, drove him to the depths of dread and despair. “I cannot be restrained,” his fear told her, spiralling out of control behind his calm, soulful eyes. “Not as I am, a Warrior lacking the ability to consciously control his body, yet wholly capable of unleashing devastating attacks like the Mountain Collapsing Stomp.”

And thus she had confirmation of the one fact that had been worming its way through Akanai’s mind all night and kept her from acting even though she never consciously acknowledged it. “You are not in control.” A blessing and a curse, for he had good intentions, only poor execution.

Affirmation, sympathy, regret, and contrition came flooding out from him, a puzzling mix of emotions containing a jumbled message Akanai had difficulty putting together, but her heart sank when she finally deciphered his meaning. It was yet another request to kill him and remove the threat, but he was also apologetic for having to burden her with the request. Mother Above, Akanai had known the boy loved to blame himself for everything, but now, she knew he truly believed he was at fault. If only he’d been stronger, if only he’d not been crippled, if only he’d made a different decision so very many times, his regrets were too many to list and almost entirely unfounded. It was as if he believed there was a perfect path of actions and decisions he could have made to avoid all the hardships he’d ever encountered, and that his failure to adhere to such perfection was the reason for so much suffering in the world today. This was hubris and self-persecution to a degree Akanai hadn’t known was even possible, and she pitied him for the depths of his pain and delusion.

There was a time when she suspected he sought death on the battlefield, and though he never admitted it, she was now certain this was the case, only not in the way she expected. The boy did not seek death as an escape, but because despite all the good he’d done, the lives he’d saved, and people he’d touched, Falling Rain truly and wholeheartedly believed the world would be a better place once he was gone.

Oh this poor, sweet, loving child... how foolish could one person be?

Placing her ax-lance to one side, Akanai picked her way through the grooming rabbits and puffed-up birds to kneel at Rain’s side, taking his hand in hers and stroking his hair like she did whenever little Mila woke from a nightmare. “You are not in control,” she repeated, her heart breaking as he smiled in welcome of death, having longed for this reprieve for so long. Alas, he would have to wait a little longer, at least until after Akanai passed of old age, and preferably after his children started families of their own. “So your father and I will work with you until you are able to reclaim it. Days, weeks, months, or years, it matters not how long it takes, because your family will be here by your side, helping you every step of the way. This is one path you need not walk alone, child, so do not be afraid to lean on us a little more.”

“Your grandmother speaks the truth.” Smiling as he padded over to join them, the pup nudged Baloo out of the way and sat down next to the boy, almost flattening a rabbit hidden beneath the bear’s ponderous bulk and proving he had less spatial awareness than a mere animal. “Your Mother-in-Law as well,” the pup added, grinning as he misread her glare. “A woman of many titles, though I find the first far more fitting, considering the love and affection she has for us both.”

It took long minutes before their words reached the boy, but it was evident from his reaction when they did, as the outpouring of love, devotion, and gratitude was almost too much to bear. “Oh Rain, my son,” Baatar began, touching his forehead to Rain’s in a heartfelt gesture. “I see you have forgotten what I told you the day after we found you, when you tried to thank me for bringing justice to those slaves. There is no need for thanks or repayment. You are one who was lost to us, but now, you are returned, and I will fight anyone who tries to take you away.”

The last was meant for Akanai’s ears, and perhaps also for Rain’s benefit, showing that the pup had been listening in for longer than he let on. Offering a sheepish smile to show there was no ill-will, he held the boy a little longer before continuing on. “Much as I would love to stay and watch over your recovery, I fear my presence is needed back at the Citadel. Your Consort as well, but we will both return before the day is done.”

“Careful.” Perhaps it was merely wistful thinking, but it felt like the boy was responding verbally more often now, despite this being his first word of the day. Clinging to the pups wrist, Rain struggled to get the next word out, and it was clear he still had so much more to say. “Danger.”

“Yes, the Wraiths.” The boy had fallen asleep before they could question him about them, and Akanai could not bring herself to start in on it so early, but the pup never was one to mince words. “Worry not, son. Now that we know they are here, they have lost much of their advantage.”

Refusing to let go of his father’s sleeve, Rain clung gamely on until he comprehended the message and said, “...Wrong.” Unable to convey anything further, he pursed his lips in clear frustration, adding a second facial expression to his repertoire.

“They still have the advantage, of course, as they hold the initiative, but worry not. You may be the Undying, but I, your father, will not fall so easily.”

Still, the boy refused to let go, only to utter, “Wraith.”

“Yes,” Baatar replied, with the patience only a parent could have. “The Wraiths are a danger, but one I am well prepared to defend against, and that is all we can ask for.”

“No.” Comprehension dawned upon Akanai as she followed the boy’s lines of dialogue. “What he means is that there is danger, but we are wrong to assume the danger comes from Wraiths. Is that so, boy?”

“...Yes!” The utterance was accompanied by a burst of triumph and satisfaction at having finally made his point clear, and Akanai took pride in his accomplishments beside him.

“This is what he meant when he said he did not know who he killed, ally or Enemy.” Thinking back on everything Naaran reported, Akanai pieced together the rest of the boy’s dialogue. “He sensed a threat to his safety, and went out to meet it, only he is unsure if he fought Wraiths or assailants disguised as them. Likely the latter, else our foes would not go to all the trouble of removing all evidence of their presence save for the blades themselves. How many did you find again?”

“Five, and parts from possibly nine more, though some of the shards could have all come from the same blade. As each Wraith carries two, he fought at least seven assailants, but until he can confirm their numbers, we should assume there were at least ten, else there would be no one left to clean up.”

They’d already tried to get the boy to tell them how many foes he fought, but numbers seemed particularly difficult for him to share, which Taduk claimed hinted at a disconnect between the boy’s mind and mouth, reaffirming the Healer’s suspicions that whatever problem plaguing Rain was at least partially physical, rather than entirely mental. The issue lay in Healing the right thing, as the medical community had a lacklustre understanding of the human brain, and a mistake might well kill the boy outright. As resilient as he might have proven himself to be, they were not so desperate as to risk giving the boy a stroke or brain tumour just to speed his recovery along, as it’d only been a year since his Core was shattered and three months since he fell into a coma, no small amount of time to be injured so grievously, but their previous estimation had Rain’s full recovery measured in years, if not decades. In contrast, a few more months spent in this semi-communicative state did not seem all that bad, but alas, Rain was impatient as ever to get back into things.

“More.” It’d been so long since he last spoke, the pup had already left, but Akanai picked up on Rain’s meaning quickly enough. “More than ten,” she mused, so sure she didn’t need to ask him for confirmation. Wraiths were hardly the best combatants, their tactics largely reliant on attacking from stealth, so it wouldn’t surprise her to learn if Rain fought off a dozen all by himself. Things changed, however, if one assumed his foes were not Wraiths, but rather Martial Warriors masquerading as Wraiths, because unlike the Enemy, the Empire had no shortcut allowing their Warriors to Conceal without lengthy Training. If every single assailant had been a Concealment capable Warrior, it stood to reason they were all Domain-capable as well, and while technically, one could not be called a Peak Expert without knowing how to Conceal, given how it offered little to no advantage in direct combat, most Martial Warriors left mastering this skill for last.

Meaning it was entirely within the realm of possibilities that Rain fought off more than ten Peak Experts by himself.

Unable to hold back her smile, Akanai sat back and watched as Rain unconsciously groomed his pets, the movements so ingrained in his body that he could do it all without thinking. On the first day he woke, they tried to get him to Demonstrate the Forms, but he proved unable to do so, yet watching him now, one wouldn’t think there was anything wrong with him. There was a connection there, one Akanai had yet to make, because there was no possible way he spent more time grooming his animals than Demonstrating the Forms.

Then again... perhaps the numbers were closer than anyone would care to admit...

“Is there anything more you can share regarding your battle? Something to point us in the right direction?”

Akanai had to rephrase the request a few more times, until she finally got a response. Anger and annoyance, followed by self-recrimination, but again, this was directed within. Pushing himself to his feet, Rain held her hand and led her over to the manor door, where he retrieved something from the ground outside. Handing it over to her without a word, he stood and waited for a response, one which came in the form of an uttered curse.

For in her hand was a blood compass, one which pointed directly at Rain, which meant his assailants could only have been dispatched by one of three groups: the Imperial Clan, who pioneered this technology and safeguarded it jealously, the Imperial Army, whose highest Officers had the ability to requisition said compasses through official channels, or the Society, who earned the privilege of learning these secrets when one of their members married a high ranking Imperial Prince. That hadn’t lasted long after said noble took a drunken tumble off his bedroom balcony during his honeymoon, but knowledge given could never be taken back, not even by someone as powerful as the Emperor himself.

Enemies masquerading as allies. That was the warning Rain had been trying to share, that there might well be a traitor in the Citadel, someone so close to them that they were able to acquire Rain’s blood. The last part was debatable, considering Akanai knew nothing of the requirements for making blood compasses, and Rain bled so much he left copious amounts of it behind almost everywhere he went, but regardless of the circumstances, the boy was right. The pup was in danger, and not from Wraiths, but possibly from his closest allies instead.

“Watch over the manor,” Akanai said, speaking not to Naaran who stood watch nearby, but Sarnai’s Mentor lurking in the shadows. “I must speak with the pup now.”

The Mother help her, Akanai only hoped she was not too late.

Chapter Meme