Waterstrider

Canvas Town, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fifthmonth, 1634 PTS

It had been an entire day, and Kein had still yet to show up at the sect. There was little chance he was still at the hospital, as the daily bills for such institutions were unreasonably costly. Ultimately, I had no choice but to find him myself. I was sitting in the meditation room, unable to focus on the continued analysis of my soul, because of my annoyance about the matter. Ever since Kein was injured, I had placed one of his assistants, a Tovus named Oure, in command of the sect’s management. While they had not done a poor job, slight inefficiencies and problems had begun to build up. He simply lacked the talent for the job that Kein had.

It would be very helpful to the sect if we could get him back.

I sighed, dusting off my robes from where they had rested on the floor, and rising to my feet.

“Rachel, do you know where he is?”

She appeared before me, in her true form. Her black hair and sapphire eyes caught me slightly off guard, as I had not seen them in awhile. Her head was cocked to the side as she gave me a curious look.

“Do I know where who is?” she asked.

“Kein.”

Her lips widened into an ‘o’ shape, and she breathed in.

“I see. I was planning on telling you about that fairly soon. He left the hospital earlier today, and has been drinking in a bar for the past several hours.”

“What?” I asked, surprised. It did not sound in character for the man.

“I believe it’s as we suspected: he’s not taking the news of his injuries well.”

“...I see,” I said. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Rachel was taken aback, but quickly nodded.

“Would you like me to inform him in advance?”

“No. I’ll change into something that will stand out less, too. Just tell me where this bar is located.”

“Alright.”

Her tone was somber, her face not quite as vibrant as it usually was. I couldn’t help but get the feeling that she was worried about the man. Rachel had interacted heavily with all of the sect’s leaders, and given how much information she constantly collected about everything, it was fair to say that she knew them all extremely well. Despite being a Shade, once again I couldn’t help but think that she was less machine-like than many of us.

Canvas Town, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fifthmonth, 1634 PTS

Wearing the same generic black robes as I had before starting the sect, I made my way through the streets of Canvas Town. Unlike when I wore my fine red robes, none of the passersby recognized me, and few moved out of my way. I was an anonymous figure, lost in the sea of people. Somehow, the feelings calmed my mind, helping me to focus on my objective.

The tavern reminded me of the inn reproduction I had visited by the spacedock when I first arrived at the station. Unlike that one, the exterior of this building was mundane, made of the same stone as any other, and lacking the traditional design and faux-wooden veneer. Still, the interior was homely and did a reasonable job of approximating the sorts of taverns one might find on Canvas.

Kein looked like another man entirely. I found him sitting alone at one of the tables downing a small dish filled with booze. He was surrounded by a small forest of wine bottles. His previously muscular frame was slightly withered by the lengthy time he had slept, and his body had clearly fed on itself as his injuries healed. His hands still looked strong, but I knew they were far weaker than they had ever been in the time I knew him. I approached, seating myself across the table from him. An attentive waiter quickly passed by, delivering me my own cup. I took one of the bottles of cheap rice wine sitting beside Kein and poured myself a cup. This finally got him to glance up, noticing my presence.

He sneered at me, another action that felt out of character for the Kein Huang that I had known. Perhaps the booze had brought out his true self, or perhaps he had lost himself in depression. I found it pointless to speculate.

“What do you want?” he asked, his breath smelling strongly of alcohol.

I took a sip of the wine. The quality was indeed poor, but I had never developed a taste for the finer liquors. I had grown up around this sort of booze.

“I don’t remember allowing you to take a break from your duties,” I replied.

He scoffed in response.

“What do you need with a cripple?”

The cups were small, so I finished mine quite rapidly.

“I’m not sure you knew,” I said, “but I was originally planning to use all of you gangsters as cannon fodder. You would fill in the ranks until we trained people up to replace you.”

He poured himself some more, downing the glass.

“I’m aware. You took over the gang because it was convenient, not because we were special.”

He barked out a laugh.

“None of us were stupid enough to think we held value for you.”

“It’s still true, for most of you. I don’t particularly care about whether the former gangsters live or die. Even those of you who were in core formation weren’t strong enough to matter, not in the long term. It won’t be long until we have as many of those as we need.”

I took another sip to wet my tongue with the warm taste of the booze.

“Your strength would have faded in relevance anyway. It’s not a gang any more. Strength is not what matters most. All I care about is how useful you are to me. And I want you to get back to work. We need an Alabaster Palace Leader.”

“Find someone else,” he said. “They won’t listen to a cripple.”

I met his eyes with a pointed look.

“They will if I tell them to. If anyone tries you, just let me know, and I’ll take a limb. As I said, I don’t need your might. I want your management skills.”

He sighed, his mood still dour. I had expected no less. It was rarely easy to drag someone out of such a pit of depression, as I knew quite well. I couldn't even be sure if I had left it, myself.

“Besides, I’m a mortal, now. I have less than forty years left,” he said. “Wouldn’t you want someone who can work for more than just a speck of your lifespan?”

I downed my cup and poured another. It wasn’t a matter I enjoyed thinking about.

“I have less than ten years left.”

His eyes widened, and he visibly sobered slightly from the shock.

“What? But you’re a spirit refiner.”

I took another drink.

“You saw the state I was in. That wasn’t the first time. My lifespan has been spent. If I can progress further, maybe I can push it to thirty or so. Ultimately, that’s my limit unless I can become an immortal.”

I let out a dark laugh.

“If I can even last long enough to reach that point. You should have an idea about what’s coming. Who knows if any of us can make it to the end.”

He huffed a laugh of his own.

“All the more reason to drink.”

I lifted my glass between us, and he clinked it on his own, seeming to have cheered up slightly due to the dark topic.

“Alright, then. I’ll come back,” he said. “I have nothing better to do with my life, anyway.”

He didn't seem as if he had fully recovered, but I knew that was too much to expect. It was enough for me if he would return to his role.

“Good. We’ve been having issues without you. Oure in particular will probably be excited.”

“How are the others?”

I shrugged.

“Ran seems fine, and Cinto has immersed herself in work. Who knows how she is.”

Kein chuckled lightly.

“I suppose you’d be the last person I should ask. But that’s fine, I can figure it out myself.”

I glanced again at the multiple bottles set around the table.

“By the way, you can certainly drink a lot.”

He laughed, and this time it was a bit more genuine.

“Everyone in my family was that way. I could do the same even back when I was…” he paused, realizing what he was saying, and then sighed, “a mortal.”

“Your tolerance might be comparable to mine,” I said.

It was a true statement, though of course I would be able to burn away such mundane poisons from my system if I wished to.

“I suppose there’s an upside to this,” he mused, lifting his cup upwards and inspecting it under the light.”

“What would that be?”

He smiled.

“I imagine you won’t be sending me out on any more missions, now.”

I smirked.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure.”

We laughed again, and I took another drink. I had come to try and bring Kein back, but I was finding that my own mood was being uplifted again. I was reminded of my youth, and the happiness I had back then. I couldn’t help but think that maybe the life I was living right now was a second chance for myself. Not merely to find ways to extend my life and find revenge, but perhaps… to simply live.

In that moment I felt myself thinking thoughts that were quite unlike me.

The storm in my heart continued to rage, but I felt as if I were not quite so deeply submerged. Perhaps I would be able to leave the past behind me.

I wondered whether Rachel felt the same, or whether behind her playful exterior, Rachel remained deeply mired in her own hatred and regrets.

Inter-System Commerce: [Only a few of the races living within the Pantheonic Territory have the ability to construct their own spaceships, and the Staiven refuse to sell their own to other races. After all, forcing other races to rent ship usage is a major economic boon. The Staiven, the Celans, the Reth, and the Telaretians are the only races whose ships can be found working as traders between the systems of the territory. The Celans have only a few shipyards, and the types of ships they construct are restricted by the Pantheonic Government. The origin of the Reth's ships are unknown by the government, but for some reason no action has been undertaken to find it or to restrict it in any way. Telaretian ships exclusively originate from outside of the Pantheonic Territory. Merchant ships largely serve on contract work for corporations, both Staiven and alien, but many of them also serve as passenger ships for both immigrants and refugees. Many of the original generation of inter-system space traders are still alive, their lives unnaturally lengthened by the extensive amount of time they spend in hibernation.]