[ The Pa-tri-arch him-self is mov-ing. ]

  The words in the mes-sage were enough to crush any hope that Djang Ren Xari had. Al-though her fam-i-ly was still the Ren, she was far enough from the di-rect line of suc-ces-sors that she might have hoped to be for-got-ten, if the mat-ter were small. But when the Pa-tri-arch moved, so moved the en-tire Ren clan.

  The rest of the mes-sage was no more en-cour-ag-ing. Al-though her fa-ther's word-in-tents made it clear that the Ren view might be slight-ly bi-ased, it sug-gest-ed that the Ren and Ban were now in a strug-gle to de-ter-mine who would con-trol the Em-pire, and the Di-a-mond Lord would not in-ter-fere. There was some oth-er fac-tion--led by some for-eign en-ti-ty called [An-gel], who was in the eyes of the Ren, an un-wel-come in-ter-lop-er al-lied with the Ban, but per-haps too weak to change mat-ter--who was hop-ing to de-cide the lead-er-ship of the Em-pire by peace-ful means, with tour-na-ments and ar-ti-facts, but the Ren would not have the Em-pire tak-en away from them by any means.

  There was a note, a de-tached aside, that caught her at-ten-tion. That this [An-gel] had an ap-pren-tice who wield-ed a spe-cial [Sword]. Though the de-tails had not been ful-ly trans-mit-ted to them, the frag-ment-ed in-tent of that [Sword] spoke to Xari.

  Giv-en the way her fam-i-ly's qi worked, with its threads and chains, Xari had to be care-ful not to think hard about Ki'el, not while her fa-ther was con-tact-ing her, and even then, she was sure that her fa-ther sensed that she held a se-cret. That much, per-haps, he him-self could dis-miss, and keep hid-den from those above.

  The last words, though, were the ones that tore at her most deeply.

  [ Sui, no longer of the Ren, stole ar-ti-facts from a mas-ter which might have been the same An-gel, or an-oth-er like them. We can ex-pect no peace with this third fac-tion, or with the Ban, what-ev-er pret-ty words they use. We are or-dered to trust none who do not sub-mit to the Ren, in-clud-ing the Sects. Our Fam-i-ly Leader is lead-ing us to re-call all those cur-rent-ly at a Sect. You are not to leave un-til we fetch you. Gath-er all those who will sub-mit or ally them-selves. Give no sign to the rest. ]

  Xari sig-naled her ac-cep-tance and obei-sance in re-turn, but she was shak-ing. Only when the last thread of the mes-sen-ger spell had fad-ed did she turn her mind to the ter-ri-ble fate that must be com-ing. And she feared, that for all the re-sources of the Moon-stone Is-land Sect, they would not be able to han-dle a Ren Fam-i-ly Leader.

  And she knew, too well to sim-ply fear, that if the Fam-i-ly Leader did not trust the Sect, they would de-stroy it, rather than al-low it to nur-ture en-e-mies. And if she gave any sign... she would not be able to hide that from any-one in her fam-i-ly.

  Could I re-cruit Ki'el? That thought was one of dozens of oth-ers, but it stuck out in her mind, sourly. The thought--the mere pos-si-bil-i-ty--that Ki'el was the ap-pren-tice of some strange An-gel, one that the Ren were al-ready en-e-mies with... it re-volt-ed her, to think what her fam-i-ly had done, was choos-ing to do now. But there was no re-bel-lion, not even the op-tion to choose death. For oth-ers, per-haps, but the Pa-tri-arch's [Adamant Threads] had the strength to bind any-one, and while he was loath to use them on mem-bers of the fam-i-ly, he would--if any-one dared rebel. She had not met the Pa-tri-arch, and dis-trust-ed the fam-i-ly line that he was fair... but she had to hope, that at the very least, the clan that she would be fight-ing to serve was wor-thy.

  She had no choice but to serve... but she could serve poor-ly. Fail to bring things up when she should. At the very least, she would ob-serve be-fore she made rash choic-es. But... she still must serve.

  She put her thoughts aside and be-gan search-ing out her friends, one by one, to see which of them would be will-ing to side with her fam-i-ly. She couldn't threat-en--not yet--and she hoped she would nev-er need to. But join-ing with the Ren would be far bet-ter than death.

  Shi-da Ken had been as-ton-ished to re-ceive an hon-ored mem-ber of the Im-pe-r-i-al Fam-i-ly. It felt very strange, even as a man who was well aware of his sta-tion, to bow so read-i-ly and so deeply to some-one who had come to vis-it him.

  "You are Lord Shi-da, Lord of Emer-ald Val-ley, cor-rect?" Djang Ban Zen-long was not a well-known name in the Em-pire, for many rea-sons. He had not ex-celled or risen high, by the stan-dards of the Im-pe-r-i-al Fam-i-ly--he was not even at Flame Qi, de-spite his great many decades, and served the Em-pire as a for-eign trade ad-min-is-tra-tor, mid-grade. They had met, briefly, many years ago, when Ken had tak-en con-trol over the city of Emer-ald Val-ley, a mo-ment that was clear-ly more im-por-tant to Ken than to Trade Ad-min-is-tra-tor Zen-long. "An [Ally] wished to en-sure that you are briefed on the on-go-ing sit-u-a-tion." The in-tent, though Ken was not par-tic-u-lar-ly clear on it, sug-gest-ed that this ally was... Lady Alas-si. Or, Sobon.

  "Of course, Lord Ban," Ken bowed again, wait-ing for the news with what he would learn was the wrong kind of an-tic-i-pa-tion. He was ex-cit-ed; he should have been ter-ri-fied.

  He would be soon.

  It was less than a day af-ter Lord Zen-long left that Lord Shi-da be-gan to sense the mur-der-ous auras with-in the Em-pire. Shi-da warned those who he con-sid-ered friends or pow-er-ful back-ers to leave the City, and some did, while more sent fam-i-ly away while re-main-ing them-selves. And only two days af-ter that, a dis-as-ter swept through the re-gion.

  It could have been worse. The Ren sent pow-er-ful mas-ters, but those mas-ters stood by and watched, most like-ly wait-ing to see if Lady Alas-si would ap-pear to pro-tect the city once again.

  She did not, and those mas-ters left with-out lift-ing a fin-ger.

  What tore through the de-fens-es of the City were a dozen or more cul-ti-va-tors in the Earth-ly Gem phase, and none of them spared the weak. When all was done, what re-mained were only the lo-cal no-ble fam-i-lies--and only those fam-i-lies who were will-ing to swear to the Ren fam-i-ly. Like Lord Shi-da him-self, they were all weak cul-ti-va-tors, far be-neath the no-tice of the Ren, and the chains and threads used to bind them were suit-ably weak.

  Shi-da, hav-ing al-ready sworn loy-al-ty to Alas-si, was pre-pared to die, but the agent of the Ren who stood be-fore him had a strange light to her eyes, a light that he should have been even more ter-ri-fied of than he was.

  "I sense that the Ban have been here," she said, her Ren threads co-a-lesc-ing into a spiked whip. "I will show you, and these peo-ple, what hap-pens to those who con-sort with the Ban."

  The only rea-son Shi-da Ken es-caped the slaugh-ter of his city, and the only rea-son why the Ren didn't both-er to en-slave him, was be-cause they whipped him un-til he was all but dead, and left his wounds open to the crows as they left, laugh-ing. The few city no-bles who re-mained to watch were cowed by the dis-play, too bro-ken to re-sist, and Shi-da Ken only sur-vived be-cause the last Ren to leave turned around and shout-ed a com-mand back, per-haps on a whim.

  "Make sure he sur-vives," he said, the same ug-li-ness that had been in the woman's eyes sat-u-rat-ing his voice. "He is your Lord, af-ter all."

  Lord.

  As Shi-da Ken fad-ed in and out of con-scious-ness, med-i-cines keep-ing him from dy-ing, though none were strong enough to sim-ply heal him. His night-mares were of faces that be-came blood-ied bones, be-came ash. Of hands that reached out to him, seek-ing a savior, turn-ing to grotesque rot-ting hands as the ap-proached, but nev-er dis-solv-ing, al-ways reach-ing.

  Lord.

  How long he re-mained in be-tween, he didn't know. The night-mares grew worse only in that his mind be-gan to fail, the im-ages run-ning to-geth-er like paint-ed mud in the rain, the pain no longer seem-ing dis-tinct from his core be-ing.

  Un-til one day, he awoke, healed, in a torn and half-de-stroyed bed in his own de-stroyed room. He sat up with great dif-fi-cul-ty, feel-ing un-com-fort-able, un-sure. There was a woman there, more beau-ti-ful than he had ever seen--so beau-ti-ful that he could al-most not see the ru-ins of his own manor that they were both sit-ting in, the ru-ins that pro-vid-ed but the nar-row-est of shel-ters from the rain that poured over the city.

  "You are Shi-da Ken," the woman said, sim-ply, her voice cut-ting through the sound of the rain ef-fort-less-ly. "I am Djang Ban Ferai. Zen-long is my Un-cle." She was sit-ting on one of Ken's up-hol-stered chairs, though it had been dam-aged, and what re-mained of it was in-signif-i-cant. "I was only meant to check on you. We had not heard." The woman got out of her chair--Ken's chair--took two steps for-ward, and then flat-tened her-self into a kow-tow.

  Even in his near-ly-deliri-ous state, Ken felt in-tense angst over such a beau-ti-ful woman bow-ing be-fore her, and tried to move, to strug-gle out of bed--but found he could bare-ly move. Even healed, his bones and mus-cles had no strength.

  "This Djang Ban Ferai has failed you. Our Ban House-hold has failed you. You who are an ally of our [Ally]." The woman's words were cold. "I swear that un-til this is made right, I will pro-tect and guard you and this city of Emer-ald Val-ley with my life."

  Some part of Shi-da Ken stirred at the words, and he forced him-self to his feet, find-ing that he had been dressed in lit-tle more than a dress-ing gown while he slept. He had... too many thoughts run-ning through his mind. Some part of him dwelled on the woman's beau-ty, but the part of him that had ever been called Lord--that still hoped some-day to be wor-thy of the ti-tle--un-der-stood just how im-por-tant those words were.

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  "Lady Ferai," he said, and it sur-prised him how bit-ter the voice that came out was. Not be-cause he was not bit-ter--he had cursed his miss-ing al-lies in his own head and out loud ever since the be-gin-ning of the Ren at-tack. But he had nev-er heard such poi-son in his own voice be-fore. "It is true that my Emer-ald Val-ley had no al-lies when the Ren at-tacked. It is true that I cursed your un-cle and your fam-i-ly. I even cursed my own Pa-tron." Un-steadi-ly, he walked over to her, un-sure what his next words would be, but he couldn't help see-ing Lady Alas-si's face as he moved.

  "But the same Pa-tron once told me that the sys-tem that I be-lieved in would stand by and watch as I was de-stroyed."

  He found the words were true even as he said them. The woman looked up, but did not rise, and Ken only found the courage to meet her eyes, de-spite know-ing the dark-ness that must be with-in them.

  "She said that mat-ters of fate were at play. That she would have great en-e-mies. That there were dan-gers too great for her to save me from." He found that his voice was break-ing, and he found it dif-fi-cult to con-tin-ue look-ing at any-thing, as if his eyes and face want-ed to rebel from his con-trol, but he sim-ply closed his eyes in-stead, tak-ing deep breaths, try-ing to calm that in-side of him which would not be calm.

  Un-til at last, he found words again. "Tell me, Lady Ferai--if fate it-self had not in-ter-vened... is there even the small-est chance I would be still stand-ing here? Still alive?"

  But Shi-da Ken found that those words were not for the beau-ti-ful woman, the woman who came from the Im-pe-r-i-al Fam-i-ly, the woman who must cer-tain-ly have enough au-thor-i-ty to save him and his peo-ple, if it came down to it. No, those words were for him, for those scars that now ran through him, scars that he knew would nev-er heal.

  "No." Lady Ferai's voice roused him, and Shi-da Ken opened his eyes, to see that she had not moved an inch. "I was as-ton-ished to hear how long you re-mained alive de-spite your wounds. At your lev-el... it should have been im-pos-si-ble."

  Shi-da Ken sighed, let-ting his eyes close again. Was this some-thing that Lady Alas-si had pre-pared? Was it luck? A god, per-haps? He had no idea. When he spoke, he bare-ly un-der-stood what he was say-ing, but he felt the words burn them-selves into his qi. "What-ev-er I must do to re-pay this debt, to fate it-self--or to my Pa-tron--I will do, with all of my life." And he opened his eyes and looked down on the woman who still knelt be-fore him. "Tell me, Lady Ferai... is there such a path? For the two of us, and those that re-main in this City?"

  The fact that the woman didn't im-me-di-ate-ly re-ply told him that the an-swer was not 'yes'--but also, that it was not 'no.' And that would have to do.

  Djang Ren Maria, one of the Ren Fam-i-ly Lead-ers, was giv-en the ap-point-ed task of lead-ing the van-guard when the Pa-tri-arch test-ed the Ban. The parts of her that should have known how fool-ish the task were said noth-ing; she was not even aware that she was fol-low-ing blind-ly. At Blue Flame Qi, the peak of Im-mor-tal Flame, she was aware that she was not a match if the greats of the Ban fam-i-ly moved against them. And the Pa-tri-arch's test of choice... was to at-tack the Di-a-mond Lord's Great Moun-tain.

  They flew, of course, that be-ing the least one could ex-pect of peo-ple of their sta-tion. Their en-tire for-ma-tion was cen-tered on a palan-quin upon which rest-ed the Pa-tri-arch, and Maria felt proud that she had been cho-sen, with-out con-sid-er-ing any-thing else--her low-er sta-tion among the Ren Fam-i-ly Lead-ers, or why the Pa-tri-arch would move for the first time in cen-turies, de-spite his phys-i-cal con-di-tion. She could only fo-cus on what was ahead of her, the alarms with-in her psy-che that should have been rag-ing mys-te-ri-ous-ly silent.

  Nat-u-ral-ly, they were in-ter-cept-ed, well away from the Moun-tain.

  The Ban fam-i-ly were a wide group, in some ways wider than the Ren. Maria her-self was not Djang, hav-ing mar-ried into the fam-i-ly, but her qi res-onat-ed well with the fam-i-ly's threads and chains. Her own chain sword was a bru-tal weapon, and she de-ployed it im-me-di-ate-ly, rais-ing her aura with mur-der-ous in-tent as she sur-veyed the Ban who had come to face her. While many of these were Djang, she did no-tice Djang Ban Ba-jal, and Djang Ban Ro'tea, both for-eign-ers who had been brought into the Ban fam-i-lies as she had been, though what pity or sym-pa-thy she might have had for them was not to be on dis-play to-day.

  "You may not ap-proach the Great Moun-tain." Djang Ban Reix-u-an's voice was crys-tal clear, though the woman did not stand at the front of their for-ma-tion. The Ban fam-i-ly leader's sword man-i-fest-ed near-by, the qi in the air drop-ping pre-cip-i-tous-ly as the woman gath-ered it into the del-i-cate-look-ing blade that was her qi na-ture. "The Di-a-mond Lord has for-bid-den it."

  "Is that so?" The voice of their Pa-tri-arch sound-ed be-hind Maria, and she felt a thrill, but kept her eyes on their en-e-mies. "Will the Di-a-mond Lord grace us with his pres-ence, then? Or is it as we have all felt--that the Di-a-mond Lord is bro-ken, a worth-less rem-nant of a man? If he will ap-pear be-fore us, then this Djang Ren will--"

  There was a flick-er of qi in the dis-tance, though not of the in-ten-si-ty any of them ex-pect-ed from the Di-a-mond Lord. They all paused, won-der-ing what to ex-pect--

  The first sign any of them un-der-stood was the in-tense flare of pow-er, fol-lowed by a wind-blast, and a pow-er-ful noise, as a shin-ing ball of pow-er went from in-cred-i-ble speed to stopped dead be-fore them. Maria made a point to force her-self to look de-spite the pain and wind, and saw that what had ar-rived was not the Di-a-mond Lord, but a mis-shapen and weak fig-ure in-side of a float-ing crys-tal ball. Out-stretched in six di-rec-tions from the ball were phan-tom wings, al-ready fad-ed and re-treat-ing, which must have been re-spon-si-ble for stop-ping it ap-proach. Al-though it should have been the Ban's ally, even an ally of the Di-a-mond Lord him-self, the fig-ure was dressed only in plain white cloth, and was bare-foot, show-ing ugly, doll-white flesh that did not match the face at all.

  "You are the Ren." The voice that came out was al-most that of a mor-tal's, al-though it car-ried well enough de-spite the dis-tance.

  "And you must be the so-called [An-gel]." The Pa-tri-arch's voice was sneer-ing, and this time, his palan-quin opened up, the top falling away and the sides drop-ping, leav-ing only a fig-ure on a throne. Maria didn't dare look, but she felt the Pa-tri-arch's qi stir-ring. "Pa-thet-ic. Dis-gust-ing. Is that even sup-posed to be a hu-man body?"

  "You are well aware that your own Ren Sui is re-spon-si-ble for this." The An-gel's voice was not cut-ting, and its qi did not stir. It was sim-ply... cold. Clear. "He was the one that tore apart this bor-rowed body and left me for dead."

  "So it was you. I was ea-ger to see if you would show your face if we moved. I even brought a gift." With a flick-er of the Pa-tri-arch's qi, Sui--that now-brain-dead, once-fool-ish mem-ber of their clan--was plucked from a sealed crate and thrown into the air where the An-gel, or the Ban, could catch it.

  The An-gel watched it fly, and let it fall, their face dis-play-ing no emo-tion. "While I'm glad you do not em-brace some-one as fool-ish as Ren Sui, it's ob-vi-ous that you mis-un-der-stand."

  "There is noth-ing to un-der-stand or not un-der-stand," Ren said, his voice drip-ping acid. "There are the strong, and the weak. Sui pro-voked pow-ers too great for him to de-feat and ran to cow-er in the em-brace of my fam-i-ly. But you and the Ban, to-geth-er, lack the pow-er nec-es-sary to de-feat me. Es-pe-cial-ly you, who was de-stroyed at the peak of your pow-er by that trash. Do you tru-ly dare to stand be-fore me?"

  Maria felt the Pa-tri-arch's Adamant Threads flash out, most-ly targeting the An-gel, while oth-ers targeted those of the Ban who seemed weak enough to reach. Djang Ban Reix-u-an's shin-ing qi rapi-er flick-ered out, cut-ting away most of those threads that ap-proached the Ban, while oth-ers un-der her com-mand caught the rest.

  Those that targeted the An-gel... stopped in midair be-fore it, and Maria could feel an ab-solute de-fense there, a pow-er greater than she could sense, or else one that con-tained no pow-er at all. She re-pressed a shud-der, think-ing only of how she could by-pass it if she need-ed to.

  "You tru-ly are all chil-dren." The An-gel's voice came back sound-ing... sim-ply dis-ap-point-ed. The orb around it shrank down into a crys-tal ball the size of its head, which po-si-tioned it-self be-neath the an-gel's feet, so that it could sim-ply stand there, in open space, ap-par-ent-ly de-fense-less, as it con-tin-ued talk-ing. "Vi-o-lent, cru-el chil-dren, from a back-wards world. No, you do mis-un-der-stand, Ren of Clan Ren. You be-lieve that pow-er is spe-cial." The An-gel moved for-ward, the ball warp-ing into a strange crys-talline bridge, then back into a ball, as it moved, keep-ing it al-ways sup-port-ed in the air. "Pow-er is in-evitable. Be-ing wor-thy to wield pow-er is not."

  Do not speak to me of pow-er.

  Maria shiv-ered. The words had not been trans-mit-ted with qi, nor spo-ken aloud. To her, they sim-ply seemed to be. A mo-ment lat-er, the throne and palan-quin of the Ren Pa-tri-arch dis-in-te-grat-ed, leav-ing only a be-ing sur-round-ed by Adamant Threads, held up by qi of a mag-ni-tude Maria her-self could not com-pre-hend. Those threads lashed out at the An-gel again--

  And again, they were stopped cold, even when they sought to en-cir-cle that be-ing, even as they pressed in from every an-gle.

  "Your [Red Threads] will not reach me." The An-gel's voice was strange, and Maria blinked. That was not the name of the Pa-tri-arch's pow-er... and yet, it was fa-mil-iar. But Maria's eyes were drawn to the fig-ure of the an-gel, which drew forth a sword han-dle, one that pro-duced a seem-ing-ly nor-mal blade af-ter a mo-ment, one that only weak-ly pulsed with en-er-gy... at first. "[Sev-er.]"

  The An-gel dropped their shields only for a mo-ment, bare-ly long enough to swing that sword, but the shock-wave that leaped from it seemed to deny every-thing. Maria watched, turn-ing with all of her speed to watch the cut as it trav-elled through open space, know-ing that it was strange--a pow-er with the den-si-ty to match her own, per-haps even greater, but it gave off no qi waves, no light, noth-ing, as though every scrap of its pow-er was con-cen-trat-ed on its pur-pose, its in-tent.

  Where that blade trav-elled, even the Adamant Threads of the Pa-tri-arch van-ished, sev-ered as though they were noth-ing more than a child's toy. And the cut-ting shock-wave passed straight through the Pa-tri-arch--or what Maria thought had been the Pa-tri-arch. When the shock-wave had passed and a strange headache came and went through Maria, she saw only a com-mon mem-ber of the Ren fam-i-ly, with the Pa-tri-arch's [Red Threads] now scat-ter-ing from his core, the squirm-ing mass-es of them be-neath the man's skin slow-ly ceas-ing to move.

  Only one thread kept its in-ten-si-ty, and it curled into the air, pro-ject-ing in-tent to the Fam-i-ly. [At-tack.]

  Maria only had a twitch-ing re-ac-tion, only a shad-ow of an in-stinct, that she should fol-low the Pa-tri-arch's com-mands, and she found that odd. But... she was a Fam-i-ly Leader, and when her brain caught up, nor-mal loy-al-ty over-rode the squeamish feel-ing that she had, on see-ing the Fam-i-ly Leader ma-nip-u-late and sac-ri-fice a mem-ber of the fam-i-ly. She put out of mind the strange free-dom that she felt, the odd lack of re-stric-tion. She sim-ply turned, and her Sword Whip lashed out at the An-gel, who she thought might still have low-ered shields.

  But her weapon was stopped by noth-ing, as the Pa-tri-arch's threads had been, and she had re-grets, look-ing up at the An-gel and the pow-er that had re-pelled and struck down the Pa-tri-arch's pro-jec-tion like it was noth-ing. But the An-gel only turned away, nod-ding to the oth-ers, and Ban surged ahead, giv-ing Maria more tar-gets, let-ting her put the in-vin-ci-ble An-gel out of her mind for the mo-ment.

  Maria end-ed her life as a rear-guard for the hu-mil-i-at-ed re-treat of the rest of the at-tack force. In the end, she couldn't curse the An-gel, even to her dy-ing breath, and she was see-ing the Ban too clear-ly, some-times as if for the first time, to re-al-ly hate them. They were scared, and fight-ing for their lives. Why were we even here? She was un-sure, but as she watched the oth-ers get away, her body falling in pieces to the ground far be-low, she hoped that some-one among those that had sur-vived would find the an-swers.