![[zz_images/HotM3D.png]] --- # ONE _I am an assassin, not a murderer._ The target was too powerful to be left in the care of The Pact -- too well guarded to be taken into the care of the Xenai. They called _his_ team in. They were loyal assassins. Every kill made with love. Each elaborate plan, timed with precision, was a slow dance that expressed the deepest commitment. Their kind may be strange to the Terrans, but they burned with purpose--a unified goal across an entire species. What remains of Terran history tells them that this is something Terran kind never mastered. Three weeks of hard travel lay behind them. Before them, the truth of the assignment that had been so pointless to keep from them. Fiher found her, adventuring on her own in the cave systems. She had snuck out again. She had no guards and there was no one for miles to hear her screams. She hopped from one section of the front cavern to the next, humming to herself. Her hum burst into a sing song exclamation, “What a beautiful cave! In these remote lands, finding such deep red rock is rare! We will have to be careful of the cave trolls!” Her voice returned to a hum as she bent and looked at the rocks, holding them to the cave entrance for light. Did the Maharin Council really think that murdering a small child would be no different than the politicians? The Xenai revered children. If they had any of their own, they might be foolish enough to worship them. The girl looked around the cavern, as if seeking something specific. She sighed and sat on the ground with her back to the wall. She reached into her bag and pulled out a canteen, a stone cup and a small ivory bag. She placed the items to her side and dug around in her bag again. She squeezed and pulled out two sticks and a tuft of dried grass. She carefully placed the grass into a small hole in the larger of the sticks and began to twist the second stick in the hole. A small wisp of smoke rose and soon Fiher could make out the subtle light of fire. The girl giggled and clapped her hands, dropping the second stick and watching the grass burn. She closed her eyes briefly and touched her hand to a necklace she wore. The flame and grass began to rise out of the stick. They floated in the air. The girl turned away from the floating flame and poured water from her canteen into the cup. She lifted it to the flame then placed it above the flame. She broke small pieces of wood off the end of the stick and tossed them into her floating flame. The water began to steam. The girl floated the cup back to the rock ground at her side, then dropped the strange bag into it. The flame in the air extinguished itself, as if starved. _Such power for someone so small._ The girl seemed to have no awareness of the balance of creation and destruction that lay inside of her. Fiher watched as she sat back, pulling the bag from the hot water. She dropped it on top of the burned grass and stick bits. He heard it sizzle for a moment. The girl started to sip the drink as she resumed humming to herself. _I cannot kill this child._ His mind filtered through the options that would be set before the Mahari when he failed to return with proof of the child's demise. She would send more like him—worse than him. His only choice would be to convince her of the child's importance. _Exile for the gods is a tradition in history—exile to protect the children of the gods will be a gift, not a burden._ --- # TWO The familiar hum and vibration  of the Void washed over Fiher as he sat with eyes shut in his makeshift camp. His back rested on a boulder behind him. He reached out with his Intuition. When trying to find a particular place or person, it was like exploring an unknown forest at night. There was a sense of getting closer to safety, or a threat of being lost forever—consumed. Whichever sensation got stronger told the Seer where to go next. Making the wrong call would only cost him his sanity. He moved slowly through the mental highways, stopping at each jump and feeling closely for the hint of the comfort he sought. He reached an intersection that resonated with familiarity. _Serrun._ The Mahari sensed him quickly and joined him in the Void. She seemed to materialize within the dark spaces of his mind. Although his eyes were closed, the vision of her was as crisp as if she was standing next to him on a clear and sunny day, even though the rest of the psychic world was dark and filled with crawling mists. The sharp growl of the Xenaran words echoed in the empty space around him as the Mahari spoke, "I feared you were killed." "I am here. I found her. I saw what she can do. I think killing her may be a waste of a resource we could use." "Perhaps it would be better if _you_ were dead, then. She is of no use to us. She is dangerous. As your sudden change of opinion shows." "She is a child. She did not change my mind with ideas. She changed them by being the very thing we have always sought." "It does not matter that she is a child. She is not Xenai. She cannot be trusted." Fiher felt his agitation rise and was glad that the projections showed their natural forms, which did not include the emotive smoke that surrounded his kind. He controlled his voice carefully. "She could be made." The Mahari took a step toward his projected body in the Void. The increased proximity of her mind bore down on him as if he was buried in rubble. She stayed there, looking over him. He felt as though she looked into every corner of his mind. _Does she think I was captured and am somehow being used?_ He projected a graceful bow, lowering himself to one knee before her. "You genuinely believe she could be made?" she asked. Fiher growled, "She is strong. So strong the Source flows from her without her thinking about it. She could be the solution to the problem the other Inari have given us." "Is she as strong in will as in source?" Fiher's gut twisted as he told the lie, keeping his head bowed. "She is young. She can be molded." "Very well. Come back to Shouding. I will take it to the Maharin. Such a plan requires a majority to execute." "Yes, Mahari." He had barely spoken the words before the image of her waved in the air then dissipated. He could not help but think she had given in too easily. Fiher could not disobey a second order. It was time to go home. * * * ##### Two Weeks Later The old stone building of the Maharin Council was crumbling into the bay, detracting from the majesty of the tall, domed ceilings. The large scenic windows had long ago broken and fallen out of their casings. After eighty years of earthquakes and disrepair, the home of the Maharin was nothing like the sanctuary he remembered from his first days as a Xenai. Yet, the building still felt like home, no matter how afraid he was of the people that resided inside. He pushed himself up into a straight posture, ridding himself of the distinctive hunch of the lower Xenai, then strode into the building. The foyer was filled with the curved forms of  common Xenai, bustling in and out of the various entrances. They brought offerings to the Mahari. Most commonly, fresh fish from the morning's catches. A rare offering plate was filled with small bunches of fruit. Those who could not spare the food brought in the oddities they found. Most of the lower Xenai had no idea their Old World treasures were simply thrown into the ocean at the end of the day. Fiher weaved through the crowd of eager supplicants and approached the two guards at the inner door. No sooner had Fiher reached them that he felt the oppressive, powerful aura of the Mahari lapping over him and the guards. The guards said nothing as they turned and opened the door, waving him through. The inner room was the largest in the compound. A circular dais had been crafted from the stone of nearby buildings, along with rows of seats that climbed to form a half circle toward the back of the platform. The seats held the sixteen members of the Maharin. Six sat on the bottom row, five in the next, then four in the second to last. The highest row had one seat, elaborately crafted by manipulating stone with source. Patterned runes rose from the base across the back and arm rests. Upon it, sat the Mahari. Her cloud of smoke billowed around her like a dress, flowing onto the step below before dissipating. Many of the Maharin continued their conversations with each other as Fiher entered, seemingly unaware that anyone had joined them. The Mahari sat, back straight, and watched him approach. “Tell us about the child,” she said. Her voice echoed in the large otherwise empty room. The Maharin fell silent and turned to look at Fiher. Fiher stepped onto the circular patchwork of raised stone, bowing when he reached the center. “The child is more powerful than we had assumed. She knows all five elements with little training.” The Maharin murmured to each other. “Doesn’t this just make it more important to eliminate her? We can’t leave a sourcemancer in the hands of the Pact,” Dajin said. He was a second level Maharin and, more importantly, a strong supporter of the Mahari. A ripple of agreement traveled through the Maharin. “I agree that she cannot be left with the Pact.” Fiher said, stepping forward. The motion stilled the whispers of concern and brought the attention back to him. “We must make her. We need her power on our side, but she also could be the one to resist the dulling." Another round of arguments arose. Merende stood. Fiher felt the change in his outer layers of smoke, the slow lazy swirls of comfort blending into the agitated peaks of conflict. Merende calmed him—as a good mentor should. “The assassin is right. The girl has great potential to keep her power after being Made. We cannot waste an opportunity to push our species forward. We lose too many of us every day—fighting the Pact. Let us take from _them_ what we need to surpass them.” The rows of eyes circling the dais glanced at each other in silence, but Fiher saw many of the Maharin nodding their heads. The Mahari stood. She stared at Fiher as she made her pronouncement. “There is no way to know if she can be Made. She is older than most we have been successful with, and she is stubborn. Even if she survived, she could turn against us.”  _Of course, she knows the child's nature. It was pointless to hide it._ The Maharin ranks stood and turned in their rows and looked up at the Mahari then bowed their heads in a gesture of deferment. All except Merende, who turned to look at her, but showed no sign of changing his opinion. “We must send a new group of assassins, since the last was compromised,” she said, again looking at Fiher below in the center of the platform. From the height she sat at, he must seem small—easy to ignore. Fiher looked over at Merende. Together, they knew that the two of them would not be so easily cast aside. Merende caught his eye, nodding toward the back door to signal he wanted to speak with Fiher after the meeting. Merende sighed audibly as the other Maharin moved to kneel before the Mahari and bent their knees in a subtle bow. One at a time, the other Maharin laid their right arm into the crook of their left arms then raised their limbs until the gesture was the height of their eyes. Merende was the only one to abstain. The vote was cast. The child would die. --- # THREE Shara stood up from her source-casted table, made of reshaped stone from the cave floor. She stepped up from the circular indentation in the ground, where the stone had been removed to form the table. Teatime was over! It was time to continue being Shara Shae, the Great Explorer! Shara stepped forward with confidence as the cave narrowed around her into an archway barely large enough for a grown adult. She had put off exploring the inner caverns for nearly a month. It was time to be brave. The pathway was narrow for what seemed like an eternity, and she came out into a room very much like the last, except it had a large opening in the right half of the room floor that didn’t seem to end. She went left and stayed as far away from the opening as she could while refusing to show her fear by hugging the wall. A small rock fell up ahead and tumbled close to the edge of the opening. Shara felt her heart speed up. This was the moment of choice. Should she look and see what made the rock fall? Or turn and run and hope she was faster than whatever caused the disturbance? She had little hope that it would not harm her—Hafi had taught her well. She scanned the cavern, quickly sensing the corner shadow was not what it should be. It was somehow darker and covered with a strange texture. The shadow sat in the corner, but it was deep and sudden. Each other corner in the cavern faded into darkness, while this shadow seemed harder at the edges. It couldn’t actually be a shadow—it shifted and shimmered like no shadow she had ever seen. It convinced her eyes that it was what it claimed to be, while her mind screamed that it was wrong—all wrong. It had to be something from a nightmare.  The changing patterns would burst into movement then go still and motionless, like it knew it was being looked at and was trying to blend in. She had a feeling that it was holding its breath along with her. She could not make any eyes out, but her Intuition felt a mirror of her caution within the darkness. The seconds stretched on as the girl could not look away from the shadow that observed her just as closely. Finally, it moved. The shadow seemed to unfurl before her eyes. Shara felt her surprise roll across her body like a shock of tension—she could not yet decide if she should fight or flee. She held her small patch of ground as it rose up to a height taller than most adults, but its body was leaner. As it reached its full height, its features clarified. Its face was not unlike her own, or her father’s. It was less like a Terran but definitely similar to the Illari traits she had inherited from her father—the sharp chin and cheekbones contrasting from the otherwise round shape of the face.  The creature had specks of light on its face where its eyes should have been that hid behind layers of black smoke. It stood in a relaxed stance. She could just make out the silhouette of its armor beneath the shifting patterns in the shadows that still surrounded it. The armor whirled around its body like vines covering a tree trunk, as if its rib cage was on the outside, but made of hard black bulbous growths—it reminded Shara of the lumps and misshapen appearance of fresh potatoes. The shroud of dark smoke shifted and billowed off its body like a plume from a small campfire. The smoke seemed to emanate from a single source: a jewel near the creature's right shoulder. The billows poured out of this source, moving from this central point in every direction and wrapping around the entire body in slow streams. The source jewel wasn't in an amulet around its neck, like the five stones in her own necklace. It looked as though it had been shoved into the creature's shoulder. The stone was surrounded by ridges, except the ridges were flesh grown like a tumor around it. The dark grey skin rose around the jewel and faded into the deep black color of the gem that seemed like a never-ending hole. Something like the hole in the ground to her right. When her sense of wonder faded slightly, she heard the screams from the back of her mind rush again to her attention. _Xenai! It’s Xenai! You must run!_ _It will catch you and kill you if you run. You must fight!_ Frozen in the choice, Shara slowly began to back away. Half a step at a time, without turning around. She tapped the ground behind her twice before placing her foot down to make sure she was on solid ground and not discovering any new holes in the cave floor. As she slunk backwards, making minuscule progress, the thing spoke. It sounded like any other Illari, but with a sharp and gravelly tone, as if speaking aloud actually hurt it. “You are the Inari girl…Sheeeera?” Shara nodded slowly. “Shara” “Shaw-raw,” it repeated. Her mother had raised her to be polite to strangers, and Shara found herself asking, “What is your name?” “Fiher.” “Fur?” There was no indication on the dark face made of shadow, but she felt like it was smiling. “Fur close enough.” “It’s nice to meet you, Fur. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone here.” “I came to you. We see many things about you.” “Me?” “You no need amulets, as most your kind do and as my kind do.” It lifted a hand to the black stone buried in its chest. “No, I don’t, but they make it … easier.” Shara hesitated before asking, “Does that hurt?” “Did, not now.” “That’s good. That it doesn’t. Now.” Shara didn’t know what other things to say to this Fur. Was it a ma’am or a mister? She was pretty sure it was rude to ask. She could almost see her mother’s stern look if she dared to ask anyone which they were. “Why did you want to see me?” “Danger for Shara. From us. Not me. Fiher is praise boy. From other Xenai. The humans.” Shara wanted to ask how,—what humans— why? But instead found herself asking, “Why not from you?” “There are many of us who think—no—fight … and hurt others … is good. No anymore. Used to fight, to kill. But stop. We love children, not kill a child who did not get to choose herself.” Shara scrunched her nose and tilted her head as she replayed the words. She thought she understood, “We are taught all Xenai are murderers. Some are different?” “Even some Xenai see only killers. Think we show power and get power. Not the way. The way—protecting what is to come—that is the way.”  He looked … no … he actually felt … sad, and she felt it too.  He continued, “Fiher will protect. Shara must take caution. Stay in home—with guards, all the—" His head jerked abruptly up, looking past Shara to the path she had come from. “Others come. Not sure. Mine or yours?” Shara could hear distress in his gravelly voice. Either possibility would end badly for one of them. She could find out, but did she trust this Xenai enough? She looked at him, his smoke-like aura rapidly forming needle-like protrusions that vibrated then went down.  _Is he afraid?_ “I’ll see,” she said and put her hand to the cave wall again. Part of her mind protested again at the thought of her closing her eyes, but she decided to trust Fur. She knew he could have killed her by now, if he had wanted to. Her eyes closed. The rock didn’t actually vibrate from so far away form the feet that walked on it, but that was how it felt when the network of stone told her things. The footfalls were heavy and thick and she felt the trembling in her arm from the powerful steps. She knew those steps well: it was the sound of a soldier in composite armor, like Hafi wore. “They are mine,” she said, “You should go, Fur. Find a better shadow to hide in. I will go and get them to leave.” Fur’s corner of shadow seemed to transform into a smoke jacket as he moved forward. It shimmered and shifted again as the needles that poked out of it flattened into gentle overlapping currents. It made her think he was thinking about what she had just said very intensely and that he approved. “Yes, child Shara. Safe stay in Prin. No alone, anymore. If you find Xenai, they try to kill you. But my new tribe. We use  word ‘Zerstörer’ to know each other. Use if must.” “Jehr-stoh-rah?” She felt him smiling again. “Close enough,” Fur said and turned and skulked toward the archway on the far side of the cavern, taking one last look back at the girl before lunging into the darkness beyond. Shara watched him go then turned back the way she had come. As she stepped into the small tunnel that led to the larger cavern just inside the cave’s mouth, she heard a shout. The heavy movements of the Terran troops didn’t need to be translated through the stone. Something had excited them. They were running around. She ran toward the sound as the pace of the shouts and the soldier’s movements sped up. She came out of the small curve before the opening and saw red. The red rocks in the first cavern were sliding and moving in a way that seemed like they were sweating. As her eyes adjusted to the bright light, she realized it was blood running down the rocks. A troop of Xenai, their approach masked by the cacophony Terrans always make, had come up behind them and attacked the troop in the first cavern. There were bodies, both Terran and Xenai, scattered around the room. The General, Hafi, stood halfway between her and the cave opening, fighting a Xenai with its back to her. She saw the General’s eyes widen as he saw her and she felt the bloom of anxiety within him through the Intuition. Concern for his trainee slowed his response to the attacking Xenai; he barely managed to get his rifle up to block its swing. As its hands landed on Hafi’s rifle, the Xenai shoved him with all of its impressive strength, and he flew backwards. The Xenai knew she was there—it sensed her. It turned quickly to face her while the General was still in the air. As its glowing dots met her eyes, the General hit the cave wall and she heard the thud of his armor slamming into rock.  The smoke around the Xenai shimmered and rippled, the edges turning into spikes that swam through the air toward her in excitement. She felt its smile. This was not the friendly Fur smile. This smile scared her. The Xenai lunged toward her, closing the gap rapidly. She didn’t know what to do. A noise hit her ears so hard it made her dizzy. The General was on the ground, but he had targeted his rifle squarely at the Xenai’s back. The Xenai coming toward her stumbled. One shot wouldn’t be enough to kill it, but it was enough for Shara to remember her training. She pulled two large twigs from her sack and threw them into the air in front of her face. She pulled the air in around them, spinning them together at such a rapid rate, they broke into flames. She wrapped them in protective bubbles of air, so they could burn happily, then launched them full speed toward the Xenai, pointy ends first. One hit the Xenai in the gut. The other hit it in the shoulder. A second burst of noise nearly knocked her off balance as the General hit his target with a second bullet. The Xenai staggered enough from the hits that it fell and slid along the cave floor toward her as the flame took hold. It let out a high-pitched scream as the fire spread across its body and it burned alive. She watched. When the screaming stopped, she looked up. The General leaned on his over-sized rifle as support to get up. She looked around the cave to see the bodies were mostly in pieces. Innards and blood from both sides of the conflict covered the floors and the walls in the front half of the cave almost to the ceiling, and out past the cave entrance onto what was now red grass. Each side must have brought a large troop of soldiers. The General made his way to her and slung his rifle across his back. He followed her eyes and glanced behind him at the spread of torn up bodies, “Your mother will be back from Century tonight. She would do worse than this if anyone harmed you,” he said. Shara was oddly comforted by this. He slung her up into his large arms. She relaxed into him, as she had so many times before. He moved toward the entrance, and Shara heard squishing beneath his boots rather than the clack of armor meeting rock. She could never return to her mountainous playground again. She buried her head in his shoulder and whispered to herself, “Jehr-stoh-rah.” --- # FOUR Sleep was difficult. Every time he drifted off, Fiher’s dreams played to a droning sermon in the background. The sermon spoke of the dangers of the Terrans and their allies. They are unyielding and close-minded, it told him.  _Is this some strange side effect of betraying my order? Is the Mahari somehow speaking to me without my joining her in the Void?_   But no, the voice was forceful, as she was, but it had a deep echoing tone that didn’t sound like the Mahari he had known for decades. Nonetheless, he sat up, half expecting to find a Maharin assassin poised over him with a knife. He peered into the shadows until he was sure that he was alone in the rundown building. Just him and the dirt and a small patch of mushrooms that had claimed the floor. Fiher had followed carefully until the girl returned to the safety of her little world in a city. >_They are the destruction of our kind, and we gave them a weapon._ The sermon continued, _This cannot be forgiven._ The voice went on to talk about betrayal and what the options were for punishments. Fiher ignored it, choosing to think about the girl.  _Shara._  She was kind and curious. Perhaps she would grow to be a weapon, but the kindness she showed convinced him that she would never close herself off to the idea that they could be friends—her kind and his kind. He closed his eyes and sent a thought her way, despite being too far from her to reach her with Intuition. _Not all of us are a threat._ A presence came to him as he closed his eyes. Not the Mahari. It was too tired and too thoughtful. He willed himself into the Void and found the eyes of Merende looking back at him. “She has sent two groups of assassins,” he said. “How long do I have?” “They left two days after the meeting. When you vanished after our talk, I thought she had you killed. I would have warned you sooner, but I couldn’t find you in the Void.” “I have tried my best to hide my presence. I am near Prin. I was able to warn the girl. I caught her sneaking out of the city. I warned her not to do that again.” “You’ve done well. The Mahari doesn’t know that one of her assassin groups answers to me. They will join you to protect the girl. It may take some time for the winds of Shouding to change, but when they do, we can Make the girl. She has the code word?” “Yes.” “Will she trust us?” “She was trusting with me. That trust could be broken by the Making.” “It is a risk we will have to take” Merende said with a deep nod in farewell. His image began to waver and became transparent. Then he snapped back to solid and asked, “Are you hearing a voice?” “It’s not just me?” “We are all hearing it in Shouding.” “I thought it was the Mahari, but I didn’t think she was powerful enough to break out of the Voidpaths.” “She isn’t. None of us are. It is a curious thing. Even so, many are convinced it is some response to us not killing the girl.” “What do you think it is?” Merende shrugged. “We may not be powerful enough, but that doesn’t mean that no one could be. Someone naturally attuned to both Xenai elements with a strong link to Intuition could produce an echo that can break out of the Void pathways. Whoever it is, they are a threat. To Xenai—and likely the Pact as well.” “Is a natural attunement possible?” Merende shrugged again and his image wavered and began to vanish, “It does not matter. You have a task. We will worry about this new development later.” Fiher sighed and found himself alone again. He dropped out of the Void, the brick walls blinking into existence before his eyes. The shadow near the door moved. Fiher jumped to his feet, pulling his daggers out from their sheaths on his waist. He crouched, ready to spring. A voice whispered across the room, “Zerstörer.” Fiher relaxed. “Come.” He waved at the shadow and stood. As the Xenai walked into the moonlight from a nearby window, three more followed. One picked up a mushroom that grew from the ground and popped it into its mouth. The leader sat a few feet away from Fiher, who joined him on the ground. The others came and made a small circle. “I’m Gallen. Tell us everything about the girl.” >_We cannot ignore growths of treason, but execution also cannot be considered lightly._ --- # FIVE The girl and the Old Man were unaware of the cluster of assassins that watched from the plateau of red rock above. Fiher was content to sense the reactions in his new allies as the child practiced with her General. Their "training" looked more like playing, but it was still impressive.  When it was the girl's turn to catch the old Man, she conjured wind to push him towards her. The very rocks he stood on reached up, reforming around his feet so he couldn't move. When it was the girl's turn to be caught, the trees would shield her, growing into a protective barrier that the soldier couldn't break through. He tried to hack off a branch. The Xenai heard the child's insulted voice yelling, "Don't hurt my friend!" "If you force your friends to protect you, they are likely going to get hurt!" The old man retorted. Immediately, the barrier retracted from the girl, and grew toward the man. The branches tripped him until he dropped his weapon. Roots burst from the ground, caging the rifle and its attached blade in them, pulling it down into the ground. "Dammit, child! Those weapons aren't cheap!" The girl moved to perch on a rock nearby, smiling as she watched the General grasping at the roots and dirt where the rifle had disappeared. Fiher could feel the glee radiating off the girl. From the man, the Intuition only picked up ... concern? _Interesting_. Fiher could not sense what worried him. Despite the man's frantic digging for the lost weapon, the object of his concern seemed to be elsewhere. He turned his focus to the Xenai next to him. Xarie and Chel were amused at the girl's antics. When Fiher looked at them, he could see the ascending spirals of mirth forming in their smoke. The second in command, Joren, projected amusement, but Fiher could sense the more consuming emotion—admiration. A swell of pride washed over Fiher, seeing these three Xenai and their reactions to her. It confirmed his indiscretion as the discretion it was.  _If only there was a way to show even more the potential she carries_. Gallen, however, was a different story. Fiher's pride turned into a stone of worry and plummeted into his stomach. The leader was an easy read. He was filled with greed. He wanted her power for himself. Beneath the overpowering greed was a fire of determination.  No, he would not let her die. But he also would not care how she lived. If the girl's life was no life at all, it didn't matter to him, as long as he increased his power.  _Is this what Merende is really after? Why else would he put this man in charge?_ --- # SIX Fiher danced into their hideout, basking in the excitement of his fellow assassins. Their imaginations ran wild with Fiher. They could see the amazing changes that would come to the future generations of Xenai—that there could _be_ future generations of Xenai.  Their power would be unstoppable, yes, but they would finally be able to break free of their own stagnation. Proliferation as a race has been nonexistent for so long, the possibility of such a leap was amazing enough. If they bred this new line with care, not only could all the Xenai have the same power as Shara, they could possibly exceed her power. The Lab breeders made amazing progress every time they had good material to work from. And Shara—she was clearly the best possible material.  But what was intoxicating was that once all Xenai had the Girl’s power, they would all become equal. No more would they be subjects of the strongest sourcecasters. They could pick their leaders from any Xenai they wanted. Gallen sat quietly in the corner as the others spoke with excitement about the changes they foresaw. Fiher watched him closely. His emotions were constantly changing. _Unstable_. Suddenly, his smoke went flat and his eyes glazed over. He was talking to someone in the Void pathways. Fiher's Intuition went blank. _He's deep into the Void already._ It would be impossible to figure out who he was speaking to, now. Fiher turned back to the group, telling the others again of his encounter with Shara in the cave. They drank in every word, especially when she tried to protect him by sending him away. "It's a good sign!" "Do you think if we make her, she could make peace with the Pact for us?" "Either they will accept her and maybe us, or she will become a true Xenai. An exile. Either way, we will do well." Gallen's eyes started moving, and the black mist around him formed into sharp peaks then started buzzing back and forth. Fiher instinctively dropped into a defensive stance, resting his hands on his hips, above where he wore his daggers.  Gallen swept past Fiher, taking up position between Fiher and the group. He didn’t have even a small scent of concern about Fiher’s protective stance. "We have new orders. We are to grab her and take her to the exploratory lab in Tawee." Fiher felt a rise of anger, "Whose orders?" Gallen sharply looked over his shoulder at Fiher, "Does it matter? It's orders." _It couldn't have been Merende. He wouldn't take her there. Not if he wants her to ever trust us._ "We will wait," Fiher said with force, "I need to talk to Merende before we do anything." Gallen turned to face him and moved closer, "No, Merende doesn't know what to do with her. We have higher orders than his now." _The Mahari._ "We can't hand her over to be tortured. That won't end well for us. She won't help us." Fiher moved his hands down to the hilts of his daggers. Gallen said nothing but pushed against the wall behind him and launched himself at Fiher. Fiher pulled his right dagger while lifting his left arm to block the tackle. He stumbled back on his foot to keep from toppling when Gallen's force hit him. The leverage from his back leg allowed him to push back. Fiher’s left arm slid up under Gallen’s chin, and he drove himself forward, until the leader was pinned against the wall. Fiher scowled up at Gallen and said, "All of us here believe in a future for the Xenai. We won't let you ruin it."  _I hope they will back me up._ Fiher heard shuffling on the ground as the others moved up behind him. Gallen's glare at Fiher shifted to a focal point behind his shoulder. _Good._ Two of the others appeared on each side of Gallen. They grabbed his arms. Joren thrust his face toward Gallen's while pushing his arm to the wall, "Did you tell her where we are?" Gallen remained silent. Joren glanced at Fiher. "We can't take the risk. We have to kill him and find a new hideout." Fiher sighed, his smoke turning into choppy peaks that seemed to weep. With his right hand, he flipped his dagger around his fingers to face upward then jabbed it up into Gallen's chest. --- # SEVEN When the regret of killing passed, it was all Fiher could do to not kick Gallen's corpse. He hadn't been so angry since—well, since the Mahari betrayed him in front of the entire Maharin Council. But before that, it'd been years. The others grabbed the body, dragging it outside. Fiher followed.  "Just leave it. We can't stay, anyway,” he said.  The two pulling the legs dropped them unceremoniously. They hit the ground, producing two satisfying thuds on the dirt-caked pavement. "Get your things, there's another hideout we can use, but it's a long walk." They scampered into the building. Fiher didn't bother. His daggers had been cleaned and were back in their sheathes on his hips. He didn't need anything else. As they piled out of the doorway, Fiher began walking. The sun was setting, a brilliant orange glow emanating through the decayed buildings. Fiher craned his neck to orient himself westward and admired the size of some of the ruins. Some of them still had glass panels, reflecting the light back and forth across their spires. But most of the windows were broken, the rusted metal casings turning into dark lines a hundred feet above on the street. A shock of memory pushed out of the Void and washed over Fiher. So many people, rushing around. Everyone had somewhere to go. He could see through the glass into a pavilion with moving metal stairs. People entered a tiny tin room, and the glass doors shut before it lurched up into the building’s heights. _Why can I see this?_ A thick and heavy voice rolled over the scenery, jerking him back to reality. _Another sermon. More death, betrayal and doom. This guy sure has a lot of grudges, whoever he is._ Joren growled from behind, "I really wish we could figure out how to lock this guy out of the Void."  Fiher glanced back. They all nodded in agreement with Joren.  _At least they all find him as annoying as I do._ Fiher felt a profound pity for any Xenai that took the words to heart. _What a horrible, hateful existence that would be._ Fiher began weaving in and out of buildings, looking for the one he had scouted when he had been sent to kill the girl. The abandoned motos on the black stone fields all looked too similar. He remembered only the distinctive painting on the wall beside the building. It had many bright colored creatures, with extra eyes and wings. If they had been real, they would have terrified Fiher. _How would you even fight something like that? Flying at you, all teeth and claws and eyes. Maybe the girl would have been able to defeat it, if she lived in the world of those creatures._ Fiher was certain he would die screaming—if he saw it in time. He found himself wondering about her. She was so determined in all she did. She would make an invaluable ally, if Fiher could convince her the Xenai could be friendly. He had to convince her. She would have to choose her making to create a new Pact that included Xenai, if they had any hope. _How will I convince a little girl to become a ruler and side with the enemy?_ Well, she was a Shae after all. Her family would see to the first hurdle. The second belonged to him. --- # EIGHT Fiher didn't know how to express his thoughts on how they should approach Shara. Merende and the others thought she would have to be forcibly taken to the labs at some point. Perhaps, it would come to that. Fiher intended to do everything he could to prevent it, even if it meant losing her and the future she could bring them. It pained him to think about. Just because the Xenai could not have children, didn't mean they didn't have the natural urges to procreate. Even seeing Shara and her curious nature as a child was a reminder of the pain each Xenai could never escape. How could he convince the others that the risk was necessary? He had never had cause to go to the labs himself, but he had seen the things that came out of them. The dragons alone were frightening, powerful augmented creatures. Some of them were a patchwork of several animals. The imprinted crystals embedded within them gave them powers no wild animal should have. Most of the Xenai that had tried to train them had been killed. The others that had been there said there was a large containment yard, still filled with the ashes of Xenai. The intensity of the source was enough to instantly scorch anyone in the vicinity all the way through. Apparently, the ashes held their shape until the wind swept through the yard. Fiher didn't know what the Mahari had planned in those labs for Shara, now that Serrun had a better idea what the girl could do. Whatever it was, it would be equally dreadful. The girl would be ripped apart and pieced back together in a way that fit the Mahari's whims—in a way that would amplify her own power. It was too risky to ever take the girl there. Deep in his thoughts, he paced the new hideout. He made his way from the front room, where thick wooden tables edged the walls, to the middle room. This area had a raised floor on one end. The rest was hard open floor. It was better for pacing. Xarie crept around the broken door that rested in the frame and entered the room. She stood quietly, watching Fiher. He ignored her presence, but she did not leave. His smoke bristled with irritation, despite his effort to hide the emotion. She gave him a sweet and calming smile. "I am not here to bother you. I am here to talk to you—I think you’re right." Fiher snapped his head to look at her. "I have said nothing of my thoughts. How can you know they are right?" She waved him towards the stage as she walked toward it and lifted herself to sit on the edge. He followed and settled a few feet from her. "I don't know what you think, exactly, but you are disturbed by the developments with the Mahari. It's only natural to wonder what Merende's plan is. None of the the Maharin have ever been forthcoming with others." Fiher exhaled. Relief washed over him and his smoke began to flatten and swirl. "Yes. I am concerned about taking the girl to the labs. Once she is there, it is out of our hands what happens. Even if the Mahari is stopped, Merende could decide to Reshape her, not just Make her. We could do nothing to stop it." She nodded. "I agree. The girl must be kept away from the labs. We could Make her anywhere. We could Make her here. You said she likes to escape her guards and play." Fiher shook his head and noticed peaks reforming in his smoke. "She does, but if we force her—hurt her—we could lose everything." "She will never come willingly if she knows what we intend. We will have to break her trust at some point." "I don't think so. If she understood what was at stake, and we proved ourselves to her, I think she would consider volunteering." Xarie balked at the suggestion. "No member of the Pact, no matter how kind, would ever volunteer." "Then we prove our loyalty to her, and we make her question the Pact. It will take a long time. Many years. And the danger of her age would become greater. But it could still be done." "Are you so willing to risk all of the Xenai?" "If we make her against her will and lose her, the result will be the same. She is stubborn. I think she would deny being a mother just to spite us." Xarie laughed. "Like the trees during the play training. When she was warned about using them, she did not stop. She simply used them to protect them. If we told her what we need from her, she would do what she wanted. I see now that we cannot make her ever want our demise." Fiher saw the shift in his smoke, changing again to match Xarie's calm swirls of agreement. Xarie noticed as well. “Good," Xarie said as she stood, "I will speak to Joren. We have known each other a very long time. I can make him see, and with Gallen gone, he is our leader." She paused and looked at Fiher before turning to leave. "Officially, anyway." --- # NINE Xarie, Joren, and Chel had felt it, just as Fiher had: Death crawled toward them. The silence that hung over them felt as sharp as the daggers on his belt. They had formed their new alliance just a week before, and it already seemed to be at an end. They had expected to be evenly matched, at least in number. One team of assassins to protect the girl, and one sent to kill her. Either Merende had lied, or he had not known that the Mahari had sent more teams. Fiher and his new friends crouched—looking out toward the stone wall and iron gates that led into Prin—and all around them the presence of the many Xenai assassins  pressed in. Hiding in the cluster of trees, Fiher counted the other Xenai as best he could. Their presences blurred together, making small groups hard to distinguish; he could not identify how many assassins were after the girl. At very least, there were three times more out here to kill her than they had expected to face. Every few seconds, they would all turn their eyes from the Prin’s fortifications to look at each other, hoping someone would come up with a plan. There had to be _something_ they could do. They couldn't just die now, with so much promise just ahead of them.  But they _could_ die here—and they all knew it. Like a light, far away in darkness, Fiher sensed the girl and, beside her, the looming forceful echo of the old man. They were coming out to train in the fields again. Fiher followed their path with his Intuition as the girl’s light bounced with happiness, getting closer and closer to the door in the giant stone wall. Fiher and his team were running out of time to make a plan. He glanced to the others and found them already staring at him, waiting. Fiher continued to look at them, but shifted his focus back to the light on the other side of the stone and composite walls, bubbling and unknowingly dancing toward the end of her life. He crouched down and waved the others closer. They formed up around him, as close as they could get to each other. They could not risk using Intuition to communicate and give away who they were to the other assassins. "We cannot fight them, but they do not yet know what we are, and we are not as alone as we think." He whispered, "If the girl does not come out, she will be safer. Before she gets too close, we run for the door. Bait the others to come after us. If they expose themselves, we try to get them within range of Prin's guards then escape. If they do not follow us to the walls, it will still be enough to concern the Old Man—he will keep the girl inside." The others crossed their arm into the elbow of the opposite arm then raised it. "Follow when I move. We will break toward the mountains when we reach the gate." He paused and considered for a moment. "Yell the girl's name—best you can. Make sure they know she is in danger." He turned and faced the wall again, reaching out to find the girl’s presence. It was close now, nearly as close to the door as they were to it on the other side. He waited just a moment longer, then dropped to all four limbs and started to run. The others burst out of the foliage behind him, loping in the same way. As soon as he was close enough to see the faces of the guards, he started yelling the girl's name. The others did the same, the sounds and shapes of the word coming out in a foreign tumble. Running so hard pushed the name from their mouths in a way that sounded like a roar Fiher had heard from the animals that roamed the mountains at night. The two guards outside the gate yelled in panic, rushing to the door and calling out a warning. One of them begged to be let inside, but the guards inside did not open the gate. Fiher was glad. The other Xenai would reach the gate before the guards could reseal it. He could feel the movement behind him as strongly as he could hear it. Most of the other groups of assassins had followed their charge. He searched frantically through the moving people inside the wall, looking for the light of the girl. He finally found it and felt relief. Already the old man was filled with anxiety and moving her back into the depths of the city. She would be safe today. Arrows and bolts from the guards on the wall started falling down around them. The two guards ahead stood, ready to fight, at the gate itself. The gate was a mere dozen feet away before Fiher broke to the right, staying away from the guards but still getting closer to the wall to make it harder for the archers and riflemen to shoot at them. He felt three presences break from the charge with him. Behind him, he did not sense any of the others change direction. Howls rose with fury as the other teams reached the wall. The presence of the two guards vanished in a second. A few of the Xenai vanished from his Intuition after he heard a volley of arrows and bullets. In the moment, it seemed Fiher and his companions were forgotten. They looped back to the north just enough to make it to a closer tree line and stay out of the western defenses of Prin. As they reached the trees, Fiher stopped and looked back. Xenai bodies were scattered at the foot of the wall, but not nearly enough. The Pact had sent reinforcements out of the eastern gate along the wall. They ruthlessly cut down the Xenai that tried to limp away. Still, easily half of the assassins had recognized the need to retreat and allowed themselves to be driven westward away from Prin. Like Fiher, they used the wall as a shelter on one side and ran. They would probably turn towards the same cluster of trees where his team now hid. "We must go." Fiher turned and began to run again. The others followed. He heard the boom of rifles—the last attempt of the Prin Guard to kill the Xenai behind them. He hoped the Prinnites were good shots. They needed the help. His team retreated, heading to the caverns in the nearby mountains, and he felt the anger of the surviving assassins shift towards them. --- # TEN Fiher and his team had not yet made it to the system of caves that lay in the mountains, and already the howls of the hunt drew close. The assassins considered them traitors before today, and they would not have shown them any mercy. After what they had done at the Prin gate, Fiher and his team would be hunted with malice. Through the falling darkness, they charged on, pushing off of trees and grabbing at roots to change directions as they hurtled toward the base of the mountains that loomed ahead. Fiher had fallen back to let Joren lead. Xarie and Chel ran side by side behind Joren, with Fiher behind them. The assassins did not seem to be gaining on them, but they were aware of their location. The presences behind them spread to the north and south, creating a solid line that would easily come around and flank them if they slowed down. Fiher sucked in as deep a breath as he could manage and yelled up the line, "The caves are useless. We will be trapped." Joren said nothing in response, but turned, heading southwest. Fiher had no idea what lay in that direction, but he could feel the determination from Joren and willingly followed Xarie and Chel turned behind Joren. The trees and bushes thickened, whipping into Fiher's face, as they closed in on a towering cliff of rock. He could feel multiple drops of blood working their way down from his forehead and cheeks, mingling with sweat. The plant life around them vanished in the length of a few bounds, and he found himself running on rock. The cliff wall before him seemed to split in the middle as they approached and a gap that had not been visible in the dark appeared. They sailed through it, galloping single file, Xarie falling in behind Chel. The opening led them into a large field, circular in shape, edged on all sides by steep mountainous terrain. It would be impossible to climb quickly. Fiher felt the pang of doubt inside him echoing in Xarie and Chel, but Joren carried on, determination rising. _At least the gap will gather them up and slow them down—if they find it as easily._ Joren led them back north through the flat terrain, not bothering to dodge the small bushes that rose from the ground, but charging through their edges or leaping over them. He led them towards the northwestern edge of the circle. As they got closer, Fiher saw another path that had not been visible before. A section of the precipitous terrain was well travelled and packed down with plenty of roots and strangely square logs rising up that would serve as hand holds. _Joren may have just saved us._ They scrambled up the path, following close on each other's heels. Fiher reached out and smiled as he felt the presences of the assassins. They had followed the team’s presence through Intuition, moving in a straight line toward them. When they had made the southern lope to the opening then headed back north, their pursuers had tried to cut them off, but instead ended up north of the crack in the cliff. He sensed their movement slowing and their individual presences jumbled together. It seemed that they were pacing around on the other side trying to find a way over. Fiher and his team’s sharp ascent leveled off onto a well trod dirt road. Joren turned and headed west. Fiher lost the sense of the assassins behind them but knew they would not be lost forever. Eventually, the others would catch up to them, but for now, they had some space to recover from the  chase. Joren sensed it as well and slowed their full-speed run to a jog. After nearly an hour on the dirt road, Joren started pausing as smaller dirt paths branched off the main one they traveled. Fiher heard water flowing nearby and the scent of wet ground came to him before he saw the stream. Their path turned towards it and soon ran next to it, creating a sharp drop down to the water to Fiher's left. Finally, Joren nodded to himself as he passed a pathway to their left that led over a wooden bridge that was falling to pieces and up the southern hills. Where the visible path ended, thick trees grew and the landscape beyond quickly ascended in altitude. Joren continued walking, but as he reached the next path that branched off their road, he  made a sudden jump off its edge and into the water below. They all followed as he turned in the water and followed it downstream, back toward the path they had previously passed. They reached where the bridge lay broken. Wooden beams jutted out into the open air on both sides of the overpass where the stream ran under it. He traveled past the road and then grabbed onto rocks to pull himself up the side. He turned and helped each of them up to the top. They followed as Joren darted up the slope towards the trees. As they entered the copse, he slowed, pausing and looking around every minute or so. He waved at them to turn, slowing to a casual walk. Something dark rose between the trees, and Joren made straight for it. Fiher stepped from the dirt directly onto the wooden steps of a house. The house was made from trees, but it looked like the trees had taken revenge on the poor building since the last time it was lived in. Parts of the porch were broken, and the base of the house heaved upwards as the roots of the forest had grown into the ground beneath the abandoned home. Joren tried to push the door open. Then he pulled it. It didn't move. He threw himself against it, and it crashed open, splintering inward. Instinctively, Fiher crouched and reached out with the Intuition. _Are the others close enough to hear that?_ He still could not sense them. The four of them entered the building and settled down onto their knees in the center of the single room that made up the house. They were so close their knees touched each other. "What now?" Joren asked, looking to Fiher. Xarie and Chel looked at him, as well. "The girl will be safe for now. The old man and her mother will not let her go anywhere after today. But we still must watch." "How?" Xarie cut in. "The assassins might not find us here, but they are trained just the same as us. They will split their group. Some will go back to Prin to wait for a chance to kill her, and some will wait where they lost us at the cliff and wait to kill us." "The mountains are big, we can loop around and go back to Prin. If they split up, we'd only be outnumbered two to one," Chel suggested. Fiher shook his head. "Our job to protect the girl must come first. If we stay together, we risk bringing them all down on us. Once they kill us, they will be free to kill her once Prin thinks the threat is gone." Fiher hesitated. He hated the idea, and he knew they would hate it just as much. "We have to split up. Take different paths back to Prin and set up defenses." "We will have no chance if they find any of us alone," Joren objected. "We aren't here to kill them. Time will do that; they cannot all get close to the girl and live. Enough attempts and they will be killed. If we stay hidden and make sure Prin doesn't forget the threat, the girl will be kept safe and Prin will kill our enemies. But we _must_ stay hidden from them while reminding Prin of the threat." Joren tilted his head. After a few moments of silence, he spoke. "There is a SatNet tower nearby. We could use it. If Prin sees the assassins, they will report it. We can get their reports, use them as our eyes." Fiher nodded. "You go there. The three of us will stay near Prin to make sure they keep the girl inside." Chel shook his head. "We should all go then split up. If the Terrans left extra SatNet devices there, Joren can use them to update us. There isn't much point in having one of us at the tower if we can't all get the information from it." Fiher started to cross his right arm across his left arm crook in agreement, and the others made the motion too. "Good," Fiher said, letting his voice rise to fill the room and stating in a determined voice. "We will go tomorrow. Today, we are no longer assassins. We are guardians. We are watchers." He felt the mirror of his emotion rise in the other three. Their order might have been small, but they believed they could change the world. --- ![[Heart-of-the-Mountain-Print.pdf]]