To: Blind Moon, Chosen of Secrets
From: Office of Nara-o of the Hundred Veils, Division of Secrets
You are directed to prevent the nexus disruptions identified by Case Numbers 8734-S-5382-878 through -908.
Mission Profile:
21 Resplendent Earth, Lost Spring. On this day, make certain that the scavenger crew known as Fleck's Irregulars does not discover the Tome of Secret Shadows located in the burial tomb of the Twilight sorcerer Light's Edge. This book is forecast to cause nexus disruptions all across the Eastern protectorate should it be unearthed.
Be advised that two of the Irregulars are Outcaste Dragon-Blooded, and Fleck himself is a Godblood.
Estimated probability of hidden Lunar presence: 28.7
Estimated probability of hidden demonic presence: 54.5
Estimated probability of Fair Folk presence: 12.2
--
Lost Spring wasn't a large town, enough for five hundred people to toil away at the unforgiving ground in the name of a petty despot who claimed to be the next Emperor. While that rankled at Blind Moon's innate sensibilities, it wasn't her problem to deal with. His thread on the Loom held a myriad of possibilities for his fate, ranging from a Chosen of Endings paying him a quiet visit in the dead of some cold winter night to the townsfolk rising up in righteous indignation against his tyranny.
Its only drawing point was the Solar tomb located five miles from the town on a hilltop that was locally rumored to be cursed. Oversight, in their infinite wisdom, had decided that the contents of the forgotten mausoleum – which included some Twilight grimoire with lost knowledge of the darker spells from the First Age – needed to remain buried. And so Blind Moon was dispatched to Lost Spring to ensure the scavenger crew hired by a Nexian private collector didn't find it.
She'd arrived in the guise of an itinerant priest of the Immaculate Order, the first destiny she'd ever crafted for herself and, she had to admit with some irony, one of her favorites. Even towns that denied the Immaculate Philosophy still, for the most part, respected the priesthood, making it one of the more flexible roles she had at her disposal.
Eizo, the despot would-be king of Lost Spring, thought it beneath his notice to welcome a priest into his town. It made for a quiet, unnoticed entrance, not always something she could count on. She slipped into the settlement with a small Guild caravan that had been kind enough to offer her protection along the last leg of her journey, shucked her destiny, and skulked off along the streets.
The Wild Hart Inn was the most likely place to find the scavenger crew she'd been sent here to lead on a merry chase, so she headed down the main street towards it. Ten doors from the building, she could hear the raucous cries from the common room. Unless the locals are prone to crowing about riches and fame in Nexus, that would be the crew.
She dropped to her knees and rummaged in her pack, pulling her well-worn leathers from the bag. In the narrow, shadowy alley between the inn and its neighboring establishment, she changed out of her linen robes. While she buckled her belt into place, she ran over the possibilities in her head. Not for the first time, she desperately wished she had more experience with the Colleges, as none of her destinies would really be suitable.
She put a hand to her mouth and spat a tiny emerald spider onto her palm. It peered up at her and clicked its mandibles. She wasn't particularly fond of the Efficient Secretaries – they'd be more efficient if they understood nuance and intent – but the Essence-crafted spiders did have their uses. "Have Fleck's Irregulars found themselves a guide to the tomb of Light's Edge yet?"
It chittered for a moment, clicking its mandibles at her again. Then it was gone and back, all in the space of a breath. "No," it told her.
That was good. She dismissed the spider to its component motes with a wave of her hand and dug in her pack again. This time she pulled out the hand-carved box containing her prayer strips and calligraphy set. She moved back, ducking around the building and thanking the Maidens the backside of the structure had no windows. A moment's concentration later, she had moderate emerald light to read by.
With painstaking care, she began filling out the proper paperwork for filing a new destiny in the Loom. Though her penmanship was still one step shy of atrocious, she figured the details would be enough to appease the fucking arachnids, and maybe they'd cut her a break on eating Paradox.
Fifteen minutes later Nira, a former hunter-turned-guide well-versed in local landmarks, was ready for processing. She completed the rest of the paperwork, taking great pains to form each character perfectly. She burned the prayer strip with the ceremony it was due and hoped it would be enough, even though she'd stumbled over a couple of the words and held the paper wrong. She felt the irritation of the spiders settle onto her strand and gritted her teeth as she braced for backlash.
A moment of perfect, gut-churning clarity settled over her. Then the lights went out.
--
I really need to learn how to not piss off the fucking arachnids, Blind Moon thought dejectedly as she crept along the shadows in the passageway, still feeling groggy and sluggish from the sleep she'd been forced into for the last three days.
Incurring the wrath of the pattern spiders was never fun. Falling asleep for three days and dreaming of endlessly working snarled and tangled threads at the Loom of Fate was not anyone's idea of a restful repose. Even less of a good time was waking to learn that the scavenger crew she'd come here to distract and lead astray had ended up capturing a newly reborn Solar Anathema, and that the Wyld Hunt was days away from coming to claim it.
Had to be Gold, didn't I? Couldn't go Bronze, nooo. I'd be able to leave things in other people's hands then.
She had no doubt that Ayesha knew of the Solar's emergence, but figured it'd be cutting it far too close, even with a Journeys' vaunted ability to be at the right place at the right time, for her to just go home after accomplishing the objectives of her mission.
So here she was, walking in a dank underground jail, wrapped in a thousand different possibilities of destiny. All to save somebody she'd never met. All for the Greater Good of Creation.
At least Fleck's Irregulars didn't get the book yet. That's a win.
Her oh-so-Efficient Secretaries had brought her the name and the location of the girl. Her name was Jaedan Morr and she was being held in the rooms Lord Eizo had furnished for his own particular perverse pleasures.
Voices were coming from the room at the end of the hall, two gleeful and vicious, one terrified and tearful. All three were accompanied by the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and cloth ripping.
"Not so scary now, are you, demon bitch!"
"P-please! I didn't do anything! Please!"
Blind Moon peered around the door frame, taking in the scene. Two men with obviously more muscle than brain were in the process of violently stripping and beating a tiny blonde girl, barely fifteen by the look of her, who was manacled to the wall. Her face was already a patchwork of fading bruises and tears were flowing freely from huge innocent blue eyes.
"Aw hell…" Blind Moon muttered, knowing now she was now trapped by her own conscience to help not only a Solar, but a child, escape her captors.
"How many children have you eaten, demon bitch? How many souls have you stolen?" Brute Number One slapped the girl across the face, and Blind Moon winced in sympathy as the girl's head cracked against the wall. She hung limp from her chains for a long moment, obviously dazed.
Brute Number Two took the opportunity to strip the last of the girl's clothes away from her, and hauled roughly at the last tattered strips of her skirt. He grinned at his companion. "Hey Torb… ever fuck a demon bitch before?"
Torb snorted. "Dar, her cunt probably has fangs and claws, but if you want to risk sticking your dick in there…" He gestured broadly at the girl. "Be my guest." Dar jerked the girl's legs apart and stepped between them, one hand going to the laces of his breeches.
Now that was quite enough. Blind Moon stepped up behind the would-be raper and dropped her Charm a split-second before she clocked him solidly on the back of the skull with the hilt of her skycutter. He dropped without a sound.
She whirled in time to duck a meaty fist swung her way, and planted a well-placed side kick in the man's stomach. He doubled over with a whuf as the air forcibly left his lungs, but recovered faster than Blind Moon had calculated.
He caught her with a lucky strike in the shoulder, spinning her around. She retaliated with a swipe of her skycutter, scoring a deep slash to the man's chest with the sharp edge. She reeled a moment – Damn, he hits hard – and ducked another blow a moment later. His follow-up caught her right beneath the chin, and she went sprawling onto her back.
He was on her a second later, pinning her arms to her sides with his knees, while striking at her face again with a ham-sized fist. She felt her nose dislocate, she saw stars and black spots as pain shot through her sinuses. But she had enough coherence left to notice that his forward-downward movement had somewhat freed her hands from her sides. Not enough to pull them away, but more than enough to—
Torb howled in agony as she mercilessly drove the edge of her skycutter directly into his crotch. He screamed and threw himself back away from her, blood pouring from between his hands as he clamped them over his wounded member.
She took her time getting to her feet, shaking off most of the dizziness and cleaned the blood from her blade with the unconscious Dar's shirt. Torb had curled up in a little ball, still wailing.
She shut him up with a boot heel to the temple. Not enough to kill him, just enough to knock him out. It was inelegant, but it worked, and that was the important thing.
The girl was staring at her dazedly. "Are you an angel?" she asked.
Blind Moon reached up and, with a yelp, snapped her nose back into place. Blood ran freely over her chin before trickling off to nothing. She declined to answer for a moment as she pulled a cloth from her pouch and cleaned the blood off her face. She even resisted the urge to go over to the now-unconscious Torb and kick him again for good measure.
She stuffed the bloody cloth back in her pouch and pulled her lock picks out. "No," she said as she moved towards the girl's chained wrists. "I'm just a friend." Within moments, she was tucking away her picks as the girl rubbed her freed wrists. Blind Moon looked her over with a critical eye. Bruises, ripped clothing, healing cuts on her wrists and cheeks. "Anything broken?"
The girl shook her head. "I don't think so. I… You're not going to kill me are you?"
"Furthest thing from my mind."
"I'm Jaedan."
"I know who you are."
"Oh." A moment of silence. "Do you have anything I could wear?" the girl asked timidly.
Blind Moon unclasped her cloak and tossed it at the girl. Jaedan caught it awkwardly and wrapped it around herself. "I need you to wait here for a minute. I'm going to check and see if the coast is clear."
"Um…" The girl looked at the two men lying unconscious on the floor. "What if they wake up?"
Blind Moon shot a look over her shoulder before she moved around the door. This girl is a Solar? It seemed unlikely at best. "Then you kick them in the head again."
It was nearing dawn by the time Blind Moon finally stopped. They were deep in the trees now, far from the town's borders. She'd left behind her five unconscious guards, three befuddled mortals, two passed-out drunks, and one robbed house. The girl was shivering, even though Blind Moon had made a side-trip to pilfer something climate-suitable for her to wear.
Blind Moon gathered enough dead wood for a tiny campfire and set it to blaze, ensuring it wouldn't be easily visible to any searchers. She sat the girl down, crouched down beside her, and wrapped her spare blanket over the girl's thin shoulders.
"This is where we part ways," she said bluntly. "I have things I need to do, and quite frankly, it's not my job to get you where you need to go. There'll be someone along, likely very soon, to collect you and get you on your way." She pinned the girl with the sternest, most serious look she could dredge up, and hoped it would linger long enough for one of the Journeys to show up. "Wait here until they come. I mean it. Don't move from this spot until someone comes to get you."
The girl nodded numbly and stared at her with those impossibly large blue eyes again. "I don't know how I'm going to ever repay—"
"Don't." The word came out harsher than she intended, and the girl flinched. Blind Moon closed her eyes against the sudden fright that leapt into the girl's expression. The mental scars left by the Calibration ghosts ached for one brief moment, and she couldn't help but wonder if the girl's past self had been one of the ones to plunge vengeful claws into her soul. "Don't," she said, a little gentler. "You don't owe me anything for this. I owe you this, and more, from a long time ago."
The girl started. "What..?"
She tried for a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it right now. Just trust me on this."
The girl nodded again and huddled beneath the blanket. "Who are you?"
"That doesn't matter either; you won't remember me." Seeing the girl's lack of comprehension, she sighed. "If you must know, my name is Blind Moon." She reached out and patted the girl on the shoulder. "Just stay here and you'll be fine."
She stood then and shouldered her pack, testing the weight balance to see if it would be comfortable for a trip through the trees. The curiosity in the girl's voice made her turn back. "Where are you going?"
It was now the 21st of Ascending Earth, and the Irregulars would be starting out for the tomb soon. Blind Moon grinned and winked. "That's a secret, girl. That's a secret."
Then she started off at a quick pace towards the town of Lost Spring, on Bureau business again now that her faction-driven side trip was done with.