A Gift of Blades
"Damn, that's a long list..." Hsuan Lin looked in dismay at the list she'd compiled over the past week in Celeren. Seventeen organizations and individuals given names such as "Overzealous Immaculates", "Super Creepy Lady in Black", "Pathetic Wannabe Wyld Hunt", and "Tough Old Guy that Smells like the Sea" filled a sheet of cheap paper. For just a second, she thought about crumpling the paper up, and throwing it on the fire. That might actually be of more use than what she had originally planned.
She stood, and streched, muscles tired from sitting and scheming in her cramped little room on the poorer side of town. For the past few months, she had been travelling from city to city. At first, it was just because she could- and because none of the places she visited was Nexus. But eventually, the newness wore off and boredom set in. And then one day, quite by accident, she found a way to both never be bored again, and attempt to repay the one who set her free.
Thus the list.
On some level, she knew, it was a hopeless gesture. Solars have power to challenge even the gods. And they do. Some of them quite regularly. And that kind of power, so effortlessly wielded, seems to attract mighty opposition: abyssals, lunars, dragon-bloods, demons, elementals, gods, ghosts, other solars; you name it. Against most of these, Hsuan Lin knew she could do nothing. But... if the ghost was not the ghost of an ancient lunar she could possibly beat it; if the god was one of the innumerable small gods, she would have a chance. And what about the boring everyday people (both villainous and virtuous) who didn't have sense enough not to get involved in the Solar's affairs? Such power as the Solars command would be demeaned if wasted on these small concerns.
So Hsuan Lin kept her ear to the ground, hoarding gossip the way that some people hoard gold, and eventually the list took shape. So far, in most of the places she had stopped, there was no real reason to write things down, either because nothing sinister was going on, or because there was no one at her level to oppose. Celeren, though, was different.
"Seventeen!" she hissed, "and most of them acting so damned mysterious!" It was a constant source of irritation to Hsuan Lin that spies and schemers were not overt. "There has to be someone on this list that I can do something about. Hmmm..." She scanned the list quickly, and read "Overly Enthusiastic Weaver" a third of the way through the page. Hsuan Lin shrugged. "It's not the creepy, pale-skinned witch wearing black from head to toe, but whatever."
---
"Um, no, I'm not really in the market for cloth of such...vigorous...hues." The cloth in question was quite hideous, but still, the weaver's face fell. "Actually," Hsaun Lin hurried to explain, "I heard that you've been asking around about the 'Sixteenth Son'." The man's eyes went wide, and he dropped the blue and orange cloth. He glanced quickly across the marketplace, but saw no one taking a special interest in their conversation.
