From the journals of Jain’Steen.

Magenta fractals make up the second most numerously available family and according to our current understanding have the least variations within the group. They grant the host power and are known collectively as Strength fractals. Solid Magenta fractals are associated with brute force. Soft Baby Pink grants the wearer the ability to withstand forces or objects of considerable mass. Most magenta fractals are clouded, mixed or streaked between the two variations but it is unusual for them to have other color inclusions or variants. Being physical fractals, they rely on the host for fuel. Unlike Red Speed fractals they will not tap into the hosts and cannibalize stored resources or muscle mass. Pushed to extreme limits they will simply cease to function. For this reason, they are regarded as the safest fractal to ware. The characteristics of Strength fractals passes easily from one generation to the next, both male and female children have been found to possess a diluted ability up to five generations removed from the original wearer. Popular and prolific before the Power Wars reliable sources imply that among the general population of the larger Jiuliing, Elimelek and Amaraanth regions nearly everyone alive now will still have a modest amount of Magenta fractal power.

“Please, wait up a heartbeat, I'm looking at something.”

Viky grinned and whispered to Ly. “Technically, if you have your eyes open you are always looking at something.”

So why did people say stupid things like that? Although the speaker was Maddie, and Viky knew you could still respect a person’s courage and value their friendship, while acknowledging thinking before speaking wasn’t within their capabilities.

“If you want to be completely precise Little One, even when you have your eyes closed, you're still looking at something. It's just the inside of your eyelids.” Ly murmured.

Viky’s smile widened. Ly, on the other hand, never opened their mouth without contributing something worthwhile or interesting to a conversation.

“Why has this person got wings?” Maddie asked.

Viky knew the answer. “They are Xianees, the adults always have wings.”

Maddie shook her head sending her mane of magenta curls bobbing. “Dia didn’t have wings. I’m sure I would have noticed.”

“Dia is D’char. You do understand what that means don’t you?” Viky hoped she wouldn’t have to explain. There was a reason why people of The Rifts didn’t believe in the caste system.

“Did they take his wings off when they shaved his head?” Maddie glanced at Ly, who was standing, head slightly lowered, in imitation of perfect submission.

“Something like that. Dereniik’s instructions say the tunnel we want is just further along.” Viky gestured and Ly, holding the taper, took a few steps in the appropriate direction.

“Oh, look at this one. She has horns.”

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Viky did look, she hadn’t read about people with horns.

“Maddie, that’s a helmet. And those feathers are a headdress. The sculptures from ages ago, before the Coalition, a lots of nationalities and they wore different cloths back then.”

Maybe somewhere people once had horns, but that was a helmet, with a definite rim. There were a lot of unique looking individuals in the collection of oddly placed and posed life-sized figures. They were amazingly detailed and lifelike for stonework.

She hadn’t seen anyone representing The Rifts. Not that the clans had a single national dress. People just wore whatever was most practical for the work they needed to do. They hadn’t even had a national identity until after the Power Wars. Getting on with other clans was practical. Not everything could be harvested or wrestled from the environment close to your clan cave. Trade and bartering were necessary. Fostering son’s promoted the exchange of knowledge and prevented interbreeding. But her people had not seen themselves as part of a single entity until after the Coalition had subjugated them.

“Can we just find the one from Jiuliing? I want to see what my ancestors used to wear.” Maddie was already moving further away from them.

Viky rolled her eyes. “Maddie, you were born in Jiuliing because your parent’s team was assigned there. Both your parentals were from other cities. And because they were both from Commander families even your grand parentals would have had a varied of bloodlines. There is a good chance you haven’t a single Jiuliing ancestor.”

“You are no fun.” Maddie chuckled.

“Fun is subjective.” She really wanted to see the new language Dereniik had discovered, and be back before her life partner was home from work.

“Just like opinions.” Ly added quietly giving her a wink.

Ha. She had always known the humble servant guise was an act. Viky was also sure that Ly was nowhere near as old as they wanted people to think. Were they even a D’char?

Viky headed across the scantily lit space. She could make a copy of the script Dereniik wanted, Maddie could explore her non-ancestral roots. For some unknown reason Maddie enjoyed her company, but Viky knew it was despite her personality, not because of it.

Maddie and she had started Strength training together recently and the young woman was freakishly strong. She hadn't needed to take Maddie with her. Viky was only going to copy the script. There was nothing dangerous in this part of the city. It was deserted, dusty and a little depressing. Some of the statues would have been intimidating, except they were stone, The worst you could do was stub your toe against it. But having her company, was okay, and Ly was currently Maddie's servant. They came as a package deal. She couldn't ask for Ly without half a dozen questions and a lengthy discussion that would leave both the young women dissatisfied.

“This is the entrance my lady.” Ly hovered by the doorway.

“Maddie, we're just going a short way down this tunnel. Yell if you need us for anything.”

“No worries, I'll catch up with you soon.”

Viky wasn't expecting a lot. The whole city was overly ornate and luxuriously appointed. Dereniik had described pictures with different forms of writing around them. He had insisted she memorize the script from his device. Now she understood why. The tunnel was full of panels surrounded by script.

Coming from the people whose existence was dependent on everybody working hard to contribute to life's necessities, extensive artwork hadn't featured prominently in her childhood. This tunnel seamlessly joined functionality and beauty. Each scene was a snapshot of the past surrounded by a written message.

Thoughts of unlocking a forgotten language gave her a euphoric thrill. She had six manuscripts, a substantial number for a young woman of her age. Dereniik had given her a sheath of thick drawing paper, a set of charcoal tapers, a jar of essos to fix the charcoal and a supply of cleaning cloths. He would need the notes she made to solve the case, but he couldn't own them. They would come back to her. It was a perfectly legitimate way for her to acquire another manuscript. Maybe more than one manuscript. There was nothing to stop her coming back to this place and recording all the messages. She had never considered herself an artist but wasn't a bad plagiarist. Copying the artwork wouldn't be completely out of the question.

Viky located the correct picture and grinning set about her task.