Chapter Text
“Yin Nezha’s joining the Cike.”
Rin blinked. “Are you fucking shitting me?”
“Please, darling, don’t swear around the Empress. I could have you hauled into the dungeons for inappropriate use of words.”
“You wouldn’t dare cross my parents. At least, not my father.”
Aunt Daji sighed as she shifted on her seat in her private chambers, elegant no matter what. “That is an unfortunately stellar argument.”
“But why? Why him?”
One great thing about being raised by shamans was the fact that so long as she excelled in her studies at Sinegard, she would be guaranteed a position in the thirteenth division. It was a little funny to think of it as murdering people who had slighted her aunt and uncle, but it gave her a job.
The Cike was wonderful. Rin wouldn’t trade the world for it, even if they sometimes drove her insane.
But if Yin Nezha was going to intrude in on her world again, Rin might have to come up with a valid reason why his very existence pissed off her aunt. Or maybe her father could vouch for her. He was the star Apprentice of the one master her father had a feud with, after all.
Her mother might disagree, but what her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
“Didn't you hear about the accident? The middle Yin managed to channel water to save the civilians from a breaking dam. I suspect he worships the Dragon.”
“So you're transferring him into the Cike? Wouldn't it be more useful to have a shaman in another division?”
“That's a terrible way to cover up your true intentions, dear. I thought I taught you better than that.” Her aunt replied airily.
Rin glared at the Empress. It would have worked, except the very tactics she employed were taught to her by none other than her aunt.
“Besides, I need you to keep an eye on him. Let Altan know, as well.” Aunt Daji’s elaborate headwear sparkled whenever the light caught it as she shifted her head ever so slightly. Not enough to make it obvious to the untrained eye, but enough that Rin could tell she was worn.
Rin mulled over her instructions. It made more sense why her aunt had broken the news to her first, especially on an informal visit from Rin. The Yins were her biggest political adversary. Daji’s husband may be from that family, but what was one thing that would drive one more determined to grab the throne for themselves? When their cousin’s on it, of course. Hence Rin's initial confusion on why they were giving a Yin access to the Empress’s black list. They didn’t need to give Yin Vaisra any more ammunition to attack them with. “But why let him in anyway? If you want water control, we have Aratsha.”
“We need as many shamans as we can, darling. There’s only one fate for a shaman, and it’s the Cike, no exceptions. Besides, are you claiming that you can’t handle your old schoolmate?”
Rin scowled at the jab. She certainly wasn’t incompetent. She simply had enough of Nezha. And she had no interest in explaining to anyone why so. She made to leave, but turned around just as she reached the door, a final question on the tip of her tongue.
“Why ask me to bring Altan the news and not demand his presence as well?”
“Well, I’d assume he’s entangled with the Seer. Or have they still not gotten together?”
Rin didn’t tell her aunt that he was more likely ready to tear his hair out, after her former classmate suggested an idea to their munitions expert.
It wasn’t that the idea was terrible. The problem was the adjustment proposed worked too well, and Ramsa now delighted in setting deafening explosions off every other hour.
✧
Believe it or not, before Nezha, Rin was not the latest addition to the Cike. That title belonged to a spoiled Sinegardian princess.
Venka had sought her out a month before their graduation from Sinegard academy. Rin would’ve brushed her off, eager to dive back into her studies to keep up with the school’s regime, if it wasn’t for the desperation radiating off Venka.
Venka loathed weakness. So things had to be very, very wrong if she was revealing her vulnerability.
“My father has already pulled strings,” Venka had cut right to the point. “I’m to be married the moment I step foot into home, regardless of whatever assignment I receive from the Militia.”
Rin paused. That explained the frenzy she was in. Venka had no interest in being sold off like chattel to improve her father’s standing in societal circles. If she were to push her family’s reputation to greater heights, it would be through her own merits. Her goal so far was to be an anonymous archer in a division, where her father couldn’t reach her. Clearly, she had been thwarted. “I’m–”
“Do not pity me,” Venka snarled, hackles raised. “I came to you to find my way out, rather than tolerate useless condolences.”
Most people would have cowered under the venomous glare of Sring Venka. Rin merely raised an eyebrow. “You want me to put in a word with my aunt to protect you?” She didn’t bother considering swaying Uncle Riga. He wouldn’t listen to protect one girl. But her Aunt might. And the word of an Empress overturned the blusters of her Imperial Finance Minister any day.
“I’m going to serve her anyway.” Venka gritted her teeth. “I would be repaying her for the rest of my life through the Militia, if she would have me. She can review my records. I am far more valuable as a soldier than an empty flowerpot of a wife.” She spat the word out.
A fair point. Given enough time, Rin would be able to convince her aunt. But there was one more glaring issue. “Just because you’re in another division doesn’t mean your father wouldn’t be able to reach you. What if he bribed a general? Some soldiers? Aunt Daji may be able to get you into a division, but she cannot afford continuous protection for one person.”
Venka tried to hide it, but Rin caught the spark of utter despair and panic in her eyes. “What do you suggest?”
“The Cike.”
“The Bizarre Children?” Venka looked incredulous, her fright momentarily forgotten.
Rin ploughed on before Venka could cast poor judgement. She knew how the Cike was reviled for having no honour and not respecting the rules of combat, but how did people in power make their climb up to the top? It certainly wasn’t solely by any respectable means. Besides, she grew up with the mindset of fighting fire with fire. When it came to survival, dirty play was always involved.
“They function as the crown’s assassins. Yes, most of them are shamans as well, but Altan wrote to me a couple times. There’s a few who aren’t. No, I’ve met them a few times, they aren’t what you think they are. But they’ll be under the crown’s protection more than any other division, and your father will never be able to reach you. In fact, if he tries anything, he’ll be in hot water. Assuming he has the balls to go against orders.”
Venka went quiet for a bit, absorbing the information on her potential future.
Rin offered one more tidbit of information. “I’ll be heading for the Cike after graduation.”
Her classmate eyed her. “So I’ll be stuck with you for the rest of my life?”
“If you agree, unfortunately so.”
“You’re confident you can make this happen.”
“Nepotism works wonders.”
“Seems like we’ll be sick of each other, then.”
“A shame.”
◈
Convincing her aunt to allow Venka to join the Cike was an excellent choice. Double the archers meant that Qara could take more breaks than she used to, and the Cike could send out more assassins to ensure a job well done. Or kill more people in one night. The possibilities were endless.
It also didn't hurt that more familiar faces will be surrounding Rin for the foreseeable future.
Her cousin, on the other hand, had grumbled how every person she associated herself with brought nothing but more problems than not.
“Kid, that’s enough explosions for a day–” Were the first few words Rin was greeted with upon returning to the Night Castle. No one was in her sights yet, as she was strolling silently in the corridors, snippets of sentences echoing into her ears.
“Now, Trengsin, my job’s to make things explode, I just happen to be passionate about it–”
“Chaghan will be passionate in plotting and executing your murder if you don’t stop–”
A third feminine voice snorted, joining the conversation. “You know what else he’s passionate about?”
Altan did not reply. Ramsa cackled with glee at the implication. Sounds of water sloshing emulated, Aratsha’s amused tone filling the dip in conversation. “Nice one, princess.”
Rin rounded the corner just in time to catch Venka rolling her eyes. The Cike had accepted Venka as one of their own the moment she joined them, of course, but her aristocracy led them to develop her nickname into one akin to royalty, for they saw no difference — in the words of Unegen, both are richer than I'll ever be.
“Rin!” Baji boomed when he caught sight of her, waving his cup of water at her. At least, she assumed it was water. Though she would be unsurprised if he was drinking wine at three in the afternoon. “How was dear old uncle and aunt?”
“Where’s Tyr?” Rin asked in lieu of a greeting, scanning the room to account for the Cike’s presence so far. Last she heard, Unegen was off gathering information on her aunt’s orders. Suni was off on another assassination. “And the rest?”
The Commander of the Cike materialised from the shadows of the furthermost walls in the room. “I heard my name. Enki’s treating Suni’s wounds. Qara’s outside with her birds. Chaghan’s off on an errand. Why?”
“Yin Nezha’s joining the Cike,” Rin announced. “Apparently he’s a shaman. Empress’s orders.”
In hindsight, it probably wasn’t best to randomly drop bombshells of life-changing information on everyone with zero warning.
Baji spat out his water at Ramsa, who swore — at her news or at Baji, Rin didn't know — and was promptly smacked over the head lightly by Altan, who had his eyebrows raised up high. Venka jolted so violently she had to prevent Aratsha’s barrel from toppling over after it suffered the brunt of her sharp movement.
“Watch it, princess.” Aratsha yelped in indignation, before he turned to Rin. At least, that was what Rin guessed, watching the blob face her direction. “You sure you didn’t mishear Daji, little Speerly?”
“You think I want to mishear that the second son of my uncle and aunt’s biggest political adversary is coming to join their guild of spies and assassins?”
“Nezha’s a shaman?” Venka demanded. “I’m his childhood friend. How did I not know?”
“Why’s the Yin princeling revealed for it now?” Her cousin mused.
Rin irritably gave a curt explanation involving the basics of what her aunt had given her, pulling an envelope out of her satchel and tossing it to her Commander, who caught it effortlessly. “The instructions for the Cike from the crown.”
“What does it say?” Ramsa demanded as Tyr picked at the wax sealing the envelope.
Altan shot her a curious look, not bothering to keep up the pretenses that Rin was, by formality, not supposed to look at the message she was carrying on behalf of the Emperor and Empress to the Commander of the Cike.
Tyr simply responded by walking over to the shadows and vanishing.
Venka snorted at Baji and Aratsha booing at the spot where Tyr melted into the darkness, Ramsa yelling a few more insults that resulted in Altan giving a warning glare. “Come on, like Rin wouldn’t have read the contents before handing it over. What did it say?”
Her friend wasn’t wrong, per se. Cracking the imperial wax seal did nothing to deter Rin, for she had replicated it for emergency uses. Her fire came in handy for remelting the wax after she was done with the envelope, too. Altan had a similar one, though they had never gone so far as to hint about it out loud. The less they knew about where each of them hid it or talked about it, the less the Cike knew about its existence. Rin didn’t want to wake up to a fox roaming her room for that false seal to secretly read Tyr’s papers. That was simply annoying.
But it didn’t hurt if people knew she could peek at imperial papers. It added more credit to her reputation and might prompt people to seek her out for help, allowing Rin to save favours. Uncle Riga might disapprove of how she avoided upfront consultations, but Aunt Daji would beam with pride. To say nothing of her father. He was the one who gave her the idea, after all.
Ramsa lit up like fuses before the bombs he made went off, demanding Rin divulge her findings. “Rin, I swear to the gods, I will launch shit bombs at your bed if you do not tell–”
“Try that, and you’ll be burnt into a crisp before the bomb even lands,” Rin retaliated without batting an eye.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Baji pleaded. “What did the letter say? And don’t lie by omission.”
“The better question is, why isn’t Altan pestering Rin like us lowly peasants? Does he get priority over us?” Aratsha chirped from his barrel.
Altan glared at Aratsha when Ramsa brought his rioting onto Rin’s cousin. “Altan, don't be mean, get Rin to tell us all what was written in there–”
“Look, kid, go focus on your damned bombs–”
“I'll limit my bomb throwing time to daylight,” Ramsa bargained.
Against her better judgement, Rin raised her eyebrows, betraying her surprise. It was a mighty improvement from Ramsa's current schedule of inconsistent yet frequent, deafening bomb throwing. Just to be able to sleep better at night, she humoured him. “Six hours, specific timings to be determined by the Cike later.”
“Nine,” Ramsa returned, crossing his arms in an effort to look like someone older than his age. “I think best during early mornings and twilight.”
“Seven,” Altan joined in, giving into the temptation of being able to finally sleep peacefully. “And you theorize only during late nights.”
Baji and Aratsha remained silent, eyes darting back and forth like they were trying to come up with a better solution. Well, Baji was, anyway. Rin couldn't decipher the murky blobs that represented their water shaman's eyes.
“Six and a half, and you have to agree to tell us whatever letters the Crown sends to Tyr from now onwards, inclusive of this letter.” Venka retaliated on Ramsa's side.
Ramsa glared at Venka for reducing his playtime, but didn't argue. He, too, wanted access to letters Tyr received.
“No,” Rin said flatly. “That's too vague. What if Ramsa sets off a bomb outside of our agreements? There wouldn't be a specific leverage.”
“But we'll know what the letter says eventually when Tyr briefs us,” Aratsha finally spoke up, the implication that they had the upper hand clear as glass. “And your conditions are a little too vague as well.”
Rin shared a glance with her cousin, crossing her arms.
“Mai'rinnen tells you about what she read, and Ramsa sets off his bombs four hours a day for a month.”
“Four!” Ramsa yelped in horror. “Do you think inventing bombs is easy? I need to modify and test them again!”
Altan sighed. “Fine. Five. But you better stick to it for a month minimally.”
Baji grinned. “Now tell. Who's on their next mission to eliminate someone?”
“The news better be worth it,” Ramsa grumbled.
Rin settled into a sitting position on the nearest table. “Nezha’s arriving in two days, and we’ve quite a list to kill this time. Including this merchant who’s been trading a little too much with Moag. Oh, and there’s an event some of us will have to shadow.”
“Some of us peasants, you mean,” Aratsha trilled. “You’ll probably be making your debut, along with the other aristocrats.”
Despite pointing out the difference in classes, his tone was tinged with affection — he bore Rin no ill will.
Rin rolled her eyes as she slipped onto her feet, now headed to exit the room, Ramsa’s complaints sparking up a storm as he wailed about how little information Rin had yielded after all his bargaining.
“Where are you going, little Speerly?” Baji called at Rin’s retreating back. “Come back and tell us exactly who we’re supposed to assassinate!”
She wandered the halls of the Night Castle in complete silence until she came to a stop in front of the girls’ dormitories. “You’re doing a terrible job of shadowing people.”
She didn’t look back as Venka’s footsteps came a little closer as they both entered the room.
“Good thing I work as an assassin and not a spy.” Venka replied, unbothered by Rin’s criticism. “Do we know exactly how Nezha’s arriving?”
“Chaghan’s fetching him.”
“So it’s two couples reuniting.” Venka mused.
Rin sent her a flat look.
“It takes a blind man to not see the concerning amount of tension between you and Nezha back at the Academy,” She retorted, crossing her arms.
“We weren't together.” Rin said plainly. She wasn't lying. He made sure of that.
“I was there, you know. Kitay said you never told him what exactly was going on, but everyone felt it when things turned icy between the two of you.”
Because Mai’rinnen Trengsin was a damned fool who had fallen for Yin Nezha — both the bastard and his stupid tricks that led to a betrayal she should have seen coming.
Despite being born on the island of Speer, her mother, Speer's appointed diplomat, was too occupied with managing Nikan and Speer's relations to be able to raise her. Rin didn't hold it against her mother, who gave in to her father's persevering pleas, she was told, and let her grow up under the watchful eye of the Trifecta.
Officially, the Trifecta refused to confirm who — or who's, exactly, Rin was, but it was an open secret; everyone had enough common sense to tell that Rin was important, despite her dark skinned that marked her far from the beauty standard.
Of course, the Trifecta made sure to teach her to expect the curious stares and suspicious eyes. To their delight, Rin had a penchant for being wildly unpredictable, which heightened fear when she swung from complete unfazedness to running her mouth with words so sharp they could draw blood. Or when she simply resorted to violence. That element of fickleness, at least, guaranteed her protection.
It had been decided that Rin would be sent away from Speer when she was four, to the dismay of her older cousin then. Altan, she was told, had rarely thrown tantrums even when he was little, but when Hanelai gently broke the news to them at the same time, he pitched the largest fit, stubbornly holding onto Rin until he blurted a solution: to be raised alongside his little cousin on Nikan soil.
His parents and aunt tried to talk him down, but Altan was adamant. If Rin had to leave, he would follow her.
Hence Altan following her around. Rin wondered if her cousin had ever regretted throwing his entire life away for her. But he wouldn't hear a word of it, so she would never know.
So, she grew up with Altan watching over her, when Uncle Riga and Aunt Daji were preoccupied with the responsibilities that came with the throne, and her father was busy getting high, it was Altan who accompanied her to sleep on the nights she felt a little lonely. Her older cousin, who had gently encouraged her when she burst into tears as the stress of the Keju caught up to her.
It became a little harder to see each other when she got into Sinegard Academy and he entered the Cike, but Altan tried his best.
She didn't blame him. After all, they both had their own lives. Rin befriended Kitay, made acquaintances with others.
And then came Nezha.
Rin swallowed and glanced away. She didn't want to think about him right now. “You can ask him what drove us apart.”
“Maybe I will,” Venka mused. “After all, he’ll be joining the Cike soon.”
Rin stifled a sigh at the realisation that Venka and Nezha were essentially being reunited as soon as Chaghan brought him there. At least this time Venka and her were on friendly terms. “Don’t tell him how to survive the Cike. I want to watch him sweat at the sight of Suni.”
“Obviously. Who do you take me for? Someone caring? Don’t insult me.”