Xilanada - Descending Dark Of Past And Future/Part 8

Ten seconds passed.

Without warning, she kicked the huge stack of student papers that had miraculously remained upright until now. Sheets of parchment poured through the air everywhere, like a flock of birds in the brush taking to wing. Xilanada rolled off the desk, landing feet-first on the floor and was already running when she hit them.

The students really were good knife-fighters, better than any mortal had a right to be. They fought without hesitation, without mercy and they fought as a team. She was still better.

As paper rained down among them, Xilanada slashed two across the chest, ducked backwards to evade another knife, and parried another blade with the left reversed dagger. She kicked one viciously in the knee, dislocating it. Another student got a nice, clean thrust right through her side. If she hadn’t twisted, it would have hit something vital but, as it was, it just made her mad. She twisted further despite the pain and pulled him into the path of one of his fellows. The knife meant for her got him and she rose over his falling body to jab the survivor through the throat.

Down to three, she tossed her parrying knife up, caught it by the tip and hurled it. Her target almost got out of the way but his arm took it instead. Two for the moment.

They rushed Xilanada simultaneously. She tensed and exploded into motion. The one on the right took a foot to the face as she knocked his knife away. The one on the left she caught in a wrist lock. Savagely, she twisted and broke his arm. Down came her knife and it was over. One standing.

Then the one with the arm wound rose and charged her. She waited until the last moment, blocked his knife and riposted with a perfect strike to the heart, in the Izerreta Style's technique of the sudden counterattack. He was so determined that he still brought his blade down and impaled her through the shoulder as he died. Thankfully, it wasn’t the side with her knife. She needed that arm still.

The last one got back on his feet from where she'd kicked him. He held his dagger high for a moment, took a deep breath and came on at her. Xilanada feinted with her knife, caught his wrist despite her wound and twisted him to the ground. One thrust, two, three and he didn’t move anymore.

It was done. The one student with the belly wound had stopped moving after all. Pity. She must have hit his appendix or something more vital.

All at once, the combat adrenalin failed her and Xilanada collapsed across her desk. Four wounds and none of them kind. The gash in the shoulder wasn’t too bad but the hole where the other one had gotten her was bleeding freely. Her hip also wasn’t too bad but the side wound was already dripping down her leg to the floor.

Xilanada sighed and chose to concentrate. It was much harder to do without the quickening Essence accelerating her will but the bleeding slowed...then stopped. At least she wouldn’t die from blood loss now.

She tried to push herself up from the desk and failed. That was strange. She’d been hurt but shouldn’t be that badly off yet. She lifted her head and the world swam in white specks and darkness. Why was she so cold? And yet she was sweating as much as she ever did.

"Lana!"

Oh, there was Sen. She hadn’t heard him come in. Was it dinnertime already? She hadn’t had a chance to get dressed though! Wait a minute...were they having dinner at all?

"Is she alright?" asked another voice from somewhere.

"I hope so. Hesiesh, what happened in here? Xilanada, open your eyes and look at me. Look at me!"

Xilanada opened her eyes, only peripherally aware that they had been closed. Sen’s ruggedly handsome face was creased with concern. He looked nice today, she realized. More dressed up than usual.

"Damnit, she's gone into shock. What happened here?"

"I don’t know," she answered. So this is what shock felt like. It had been so long, she’d forgotten. Final Starry Night had taken enough of a beating in training that no wound bothered him much past his 10th year of Exaltation. After being a Solar for 50 years, he’d forgotten all about mortality and what it was like. Maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe that was one of the lessons he had lost.

"There are six dead students in this room, Lana," Sen said sternly. "I know this must have been self-defense, that much is obvious, but what isn’t is why it happened. What can you tell me?" He turned her chair up, lifted her under her arms, and carefully settled her back into the seat.

Who was that man standing over his shoulder? He was older, obviously unExalted, but dressed in even better finery than Sen was wearing. Someone important. Oh, those were his soldiers back there. He looked like a merchant. Was he a Guildsman?

Then she realized Sen was still waiting for an answer.

"I was grading papers. I was very busy. They came in and closed the door before I saw that they were...dressed like that. They threw a few knives at me, hoping for a quick kill, then they moved in. I asked them twice to explain themselves but they wouldn’t."

"That’s it?" Sen asked. Heat seemed to shimmer right in front of his eyes, like fog off a hot spring. She’d never seen that Aspect Marking before. Of course, she’d never seen him mad before either.

"Yes, I think so. They were very good for children, very organized. Someone trained them well, Sen."

"It looks like you can handle a knife," he said slowly. His gaze lingered on the knife she’d left on the desk surface, slowly creeping up her arm to her face. "I have help on the way, don’t worry. Factor Leestra was kind enough to send his servant for aid. Seya will be here in a moment." The Dragon-Blooded Prince paused, as if a thought had just occurred to him. He looked uncomfortable for a moment, then straightened and turned to face the Guildsman.

"Excuse me, Factor. This is hardly normal of our tours," Sen said, lips quirking at the wry joke. "Nor is this normal of the School. But as you can see, our Professors can handle any degree of discipline problem."

Xilanada frowned a moment before realizing the diplomatic situation. Tepet Ajalat Sen was a Professor here and son of the owner. She was a hired hand simply put. No business in Creation smiled at its professional community fraternizing. Admittedly, the School seemed to be liberal in its leanings on the matter but there was still decorum to be kept.

But there was more to it, now that her head was clearing a little. The frown on this Factor’s face had nothing to do with Sen’s familiarity. It had everything to do...with her. She looked at his eyes and caught his glance the next time he turned to her. Yes, there. A spark of recognition?

But who was he?

"Does Malias take me for a fool?" the Factor said. He spoken in a controlled, even tone but his words surprised her. "What do you mean by...all of this? Is he trying to make an enemy of me?"

"Factor, please." Sen raised one hand and gave the Guildsman a self-assured smile. "I understand this is startling. It certainly startled me but this has nothing to do with you. A full investigation will take place at once to find out what happened, Factor, I assure you. The Six Poses of Lightning School does not tolerate any threats to its students or faculty."

"Tepet Sen, stop." The Factor raised his own hand and sharply cut the air in a gesture of negation. "I will tell you what I see and you will answer me."

"Of course," Sen said with a grave nod. "I would be happy to settle your concerns."

"That woman is Captive Smile, a...contractual employee of mine. One who has been in my service for years, well before any contract she may have established with your school. I do not know what Malias means by having me find her here, wounded as she is. I really don’t know how I am meant to take this. But I am not taking it well."

There it was. Xilanada gasped at the thrill of fear that knotted her shoulders. She had spent so much time running from the past, from Night, from the monster she’d been. It had never occurred to her that trading away a Twilight’s past meant taking on another’s. Finding out that she had been a whore, that she was addicted to drugs, that had been hard enough to dismiss. Meeting someone who had known this Captive Smile was altogether a different matter.

"This woman is Xilanada, our Professor of First Age Lore, Factor," Sen said politely. "A cursory look would suggest that she was assaulted by these six young men and women. There was a knife fight and she won. You think this was staged for your benefit? Tell me, Factor, what could we possibly have to gain?"

"That’s what I don’t know. Her identity is easy enough to verify," the Guildsman said brusquely. "Her signature. A competent Thamaturge could verify her memory of signing it. Any of your staff could do it, of course. Barring that, a Spirit could certainly prove that she is bound to me. And she bears my mark. These facts are indisputable to me and so I fail to understand what you mean by this...crime against my property."

Xilanada sighed, too tired to smile at his assumptions. She was still feeling cold, for the first time in months, and it was not turning out to be the pleasant experience she had been looking forward to. As her eyes dropped, she realized her dress was sticky with fresh blood. So much for an Exalt’s will. The Eclipsing Ephemerality Prana had its price and, Exalted or no, she was paying it.

"I have no memory before a few months ago," she said carefully. "You say you know me but I don’t know you."

"She may hide behind whatever facade she wishes," the Factor said, looking at her but speaking to the Dragon-Blooded. "But she is mine. She bears my mark."

"A slaver’s tattoo?" Sen scorned. "She teaches here, Factor. I do not intend to rob you of any property but she belongs to no one and has done us good service. As for your concerns, perhaps an ill-mannered God directed this...confluence of unusual bad luck. You must see that she’s hurt, man, quite seriously. We do not casually wound our own staff, even if we had a clear point to make. I think we can all agree that there's no clear point evident here."

The Factor was angry. But the more she thought about it, the less it concerned her. In the past few months, she’d had ample time to be Xilanada. The breasts, the hips, the inward curve where none had been before had turned out to be less of a change than managing that unruly mass of curls that passed for her hair. And in that time, she had found no mark, no scars, nothing to mar the smoothly splendid body of this life. Lacking that, and genuine memory, no one could prove she was this Captive Smile.

"Thank you, Tepet Sen," she said formally. "But I’d really rather we got this dealt with now. No sense in having it over my head while I’m recovering. Factor, I’m sorry if you feel this...display was meant for you. Why don’t you try and find this mark I’m supposed to have and we can at least settle that?"

She held his gaze steadily and smirked at the discomfiture that crinkled his eyes. If he really believed she was Captive Smile, then he must know she would never dare him to expose her for a liar. Nonetheless, he walked toward her, knelt and slid up the hem of her dress. She pulled back in surprise and winced at the flare of pain that caused.

"I trust this examination will not be a compromising one," Sen said warningly, heat rising in his voice as it radiated out around his eyes.

"Look, there," the Factor said, cold creeping into his voice as he lifted her leg. Xilanada gasped as the motion pulled at her side wound but she bore it. Sen knelt next to the Factor as they looked at something on the back of her thigh.

That wasn’t good. No, she hadn’t seen any marks on herself at all but she hadn’t really looked that hard either. How many people ever really looked at the back of their leg anyway? It’s not as if she had a full-length mirror to inspect herself in, nor was she the kind of person who would care enough for that kind of thing anyway.

"See, my crest." The Factor proffered his ring, which Sen examined in minute detail. Slowly, resignation settled into his handsome features. Just as slowly, Xilanada’s stomach sank.

So she was a slave after all. What did that mean, though? Months ago, Xilanada had been happy with any life that didn’t involve slaughter. Now...she found she liked teaching. The thought of becoming some Guild Factor’s plaything was making her physically ill. Well, that could be the shock or the blood loss too but either way it was a terrible thought.

"If you don’t mind, Guildsman," Xilanada offered, surprising both the Factor and Sen as if she hadn’t been there. What, slaves didn’t talk? ...of course they didn’t, she realized seconds later, remembering the Realm and some of its strictures. But the Sun damn her if she’d keep silent now. "If you don’t mind, I’d like to have this little murder attempt dealt with. Perhaps it was meant for me and, just maybe, it was meant for you too. An investigation will tell the truth. In the meantime, some recovery time would be nice since I won’t be much good to anyone until I heal. That leaves plenty of time to discuss this."

"I don’t see that we have anything to discuss, Captive Smile," said the Factor grimly. "You are mine. Your contract is mine."

"Is it?" she said warningly. She glared into his eyes and he looked away, unsettled. "I’m not your Captive Smile, Factor. Who’s to say I didn’t get that tattoo on my own? You’re right, there are many ways to verify who I am. I suggest you employ them first before making assertions of ownership. While you’re at it, cool your suspicions. You must be an experienced Merchant-Prince to have become a Factor. Employ that good experience and realize that no one here has anything to gain by this."

"There is no one else you could be," he said, ignoring her argument and leaning in close. "Perhaps a Spirit or Demon has gotten into you but I know you. I know you!" The meaning was unmistakable. "And I own you!"

"Factor Leestra," Sen said in a mild voice. "Your servant has returned with help. Let my sister tend to this woman, whoever’s contractual employee she may be, and then settle this like gentlemen of quality do in a lawless place like Nexus."

Sen really was a good diplomat when he put his mind to it, Xilanada thought. It was a light, pleasing thought. He had qualities she didn’t, thoughts on how to handle others that she didn’t, strengths that she admired. All part of the charismatic Dragon-Blooded’s appeal.

"Thank you, Sen," she whispered when he leaned close to lift her out of the chair. "Please trust me. Whatever I was, whatever I am, I have never been anyone’s slave."

"I hope not," Sen said. Though the affection on his face was obvious, his eyes were sober. "This is going to be complicated. I will do my best for you but you should know the evidence looks pretty damning."

Xilanada wanted to say more but then he’d placed her on a stretcher several servants had brought, as Tepet Seya stretched over her. The sudden shift caused a wave of dizziness and, quite before she knew it, she was on her way out of the room. A last sight, of Sen standing in a bloody room with yearning in his eyes, founded the quiet fire that chased away the deepest cold all the way to the infirmary.