The Hall of Elders of the Celestial Origin Sect was a grand structure featuring a massive central audience hall with towering pillars, vaulted roofing, mosaic tile flooring, windows cast in stained glass, ubiquitous wall murals, and enough precious metal gilding to buy a small city. It was comfortably large enough for the sect's roughly one hundred elders to assemble in full, with plenty of additional room for servants, guests, supplicants, criminals, or anyone else whose actions demanded such imperious attention. Few could enter such an immense chamber and not be overawed by the majesty and power of the sect.

  Today, as on most days, the audience hall remained dim and cold; lit only by a handful of candles and used only by a pair of servants slowly cleaning the windowpanes one by one. Instead, the sect's true decision makers gathered without ceremony in a small and unimposing annex. This little room with small windows and ordinary features was, in official records, used as furniture storage between major ceremonies that filled the audience hall. Those wooden artifacts, many of them prime examples of masterwork carpentry, were pushed up against the walls and carefully stacked today. In the open space thus obtained were fifteen cushions of simple woven matting, laid out in a circle.

  Only eight of these places were occupied, as expected. At any given time nearly half of the sect's leadership remained in closed door cultivation, cut off from the world as they sought the advancement of their daos. For anything short of an overwhelming crisis, eight immortals remained the limit available. Such had been arranged long ago, and the roster changed only every twelve years. It would be another nine before the group assembled today underwent any variation.

  Itinay knew each of the other seven intimately. Five were her sisters of old, others of the twelve disciples of Orday who had followed the dao of their master and mother for over three thousand years. She, as the twelfth disciple, was the youngest of their sisterhood.

  The remaining two were comparative youths, two of the three souls born within Mother's Gift who had managed to achieve the Celestial Ascension realm in the twenty-five hundred years of its existence. The first of the pair, Eculay the Stellar Muse, was a genuine immortal, nearly twenty-two hundred years old. She was the first great success of the Celestial Origin Sect. The second, Onimray the Eyeless, was much younger. The most recent to breakthrough to the seventh realm, she was a mere nine hundred years old. As it had taken just over five centuries to reach her present status, this made her the rare immortal whose mortal years still outnumbered those since her transformation. Compared to many of those in this room, and the overall historical record, the blind woman's rise had been positively meteoric.

  Eight votes, one apiece, all equal on those mats. Five votes needed to win support, with all ties deferred until the composition of active elders changed. The configuration to come nine years hence was known, and Itinay did not consider it more favorable than the current one. Worse, the present moment was critical. The first stage of the body refining realm set many processes upon inexorable routes, there would be no changing them later. To bring about her scheme she must win support now. A difficult task indeed, as it was intended to be. The sect could not afford to recklessly indulge the whims of any member, immortals least of all.

  It was not, of course, a matter of persuading eight, or even five, of those assembled. They were ancient beings set in their ways and absolutely tied to the daos manifest in their immortal forms. Many reactions were easily predicted. Many votes could be counted well in advance. Itinay had her own, of course, but could also count on Akiray and Onimray for certain. The wild, red-haired battlemaster would pursue any plan to craft a new and potent weapon, and a scheme to maximize the unique ability of an unusual cultivator would surely appeal to the blind grand elder.

  She suspected a fourth vote in support was also likely, that of Uzay. Mercurial though the woman with hair of ever-shifting flames certainly was, her desire to support change over stagnation would align her with this plan more than any objection would place her against it. Itinay had clashed with her fiery sister many times, however, and their relationship had many tensions binding it. She would need to carefully minimize the personal role she intended to play in shaping Qing Liao in order to avoid poisoning the subject beneath a pall of personal rivalry.

  Four in support, as a starting point, but equally severe obstacles existed. Neither the deeply serene Eculay nor the green-blue and vine-cloaked Neay would support this plan. Disruption of the status quo did not suit their own goals. Of the two, Itinay sympathized with Neay most. Out of all twelve sisters she stood closest to the day to day operations of the sect and of Mother's Gift's mortal population. Any plot that might jeopardize all she had worked to grow would be rejected outright.

  Ohlay, beautiful and motherly with brilliant waves of golden hair and skin that shifted through every shade of olive across countless angles of reflection, was only slightly more persuadable than the other two nay votes. Most motherly of the sisters, she would consider what Itinay intended a violation of promised independence to new cultivators. She considered it a sacred charge that all be allowed to formulate their own dao.

  Four in support, three against. Only one voice possessed the true power to unleash Itinay's plans and change the course of the sect's history. Inevitably, or so she believed, the choice would ultimately be left in Iay's hands.

  The first disciple of Orday; the eldest of the Twelve Sisters; the most powerful and farthest seeing of them all. There were fifteen cultivators in the celestial ascension realm in the sect, marking time in centuries and working toward the day far in the future when they would challenge the heavens for a place among the stars. Of that fifteen only one, Iay, stood in the seventh layer of that realm as a being at the edge of ascension.

  White-haired, white-eyed, with pale blue skin and shrouded in robes of light-less black, she kept her own counsel. Even after thousands of years at her side, none of the other sisters could be said to truly know the mind of the eldest.

  Iay's support, if it could be obtained, counted heavily indeed. It would surely convince Uzay to support them. Without it, Ohlay's opinion would harden to steel and make any attempt to earn her assistance pointless. Even if she had not been the most powerful among them, as the eldest she earned incredible deference in cultivator society, something only magnified by her status as a master ritualist with incredible insight and far-seeing wisdom.

  Itinay looked across the circle of pillows, met the white eyes of her eldest sister, and marshaled herself as she not since the arrival of the last demon horde. Her sister's examination of a drop of blood confirmed Qing Liao truly was immune and invisible to demonic qi. She refused to let this chance, one that might not come again for five thousand years, to pass by.

  “You called us, sister, and we came.” Unsurprisingly, it was Uzay who broke the silence first. Though she had, as any immortal must, conquered impatience centuries before, it was still her preference to move quickly through any meeting. “Let's hear your scheme for this new initiate.”

  They all knew who Qing Liao was, of course, and had learned of the unique trait he possessed. The summons to conclave had contained a message with all the relevant details. One did not stir a nest of immortals without explaining why.

  The brashness of the fiery dancer had been anticipated. Itinay was, in truth, grateful for the swift advancement of the matter. Her reply, carefully tailored the night before, was simple. “We should make a weapon for the sect.”

  No one offered the slightest indication of surprise, whether on their faces or through their qi. They were all far too controlled for that. Besides, all knew her well, and anticipated such an obvious plot. Qing Liao's talent would only reveal its true value if directed down certain carefully chosen paths.

  “Sure,” Uzay tossed her head slightly. Hair with a medley of yellow, orange, and red strands caused light to pulse strangely across the little room, reflecting off her vibrant presentation. “But can you achieve that? And does the sect even need an assassin?”

  “We do,” Itinay ignored the former question for the moment. It was not yet time to reveal that point. “But not a mere assassin, a true operative. An agent able to access the Ruined Wastes freely. Our scouting capability is minimal, and filled with risks. This would change that. We could conduct offensive operations, or retrievals.”

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  The old world had left many ruins behind, and they were not devoid of treasures. The demonic cultivators had not plundered anywhere near all of them. These women knew better than most the value remaining in the wild.

  “Scouting carries risks, as you say,” Neay raised the first objection, one they all knew, out loud. “This move would greatly magnify them.” She spoke simply, as if casual, but her qi vibrated with tension. “You will utilize fail-safes, are prepared to list them at length, but nothing is certain. Any potential profit must be weighed against the risks, and as matters stand the risk here is far too great.” Unexpectedly, in a move that drew many eyes to her green-blue face, she did not end there. “But, change is not inherently a risk, and circumstances alter as time passes, according to the earth even if all else is still. I see no reason not to forge this weapon, so long as it is kept in the sheath.”

  Surprise rippled through seven pillars of qi. Itinay reconsidered rapidly, struggling to calculate whether or not this mattered. The offer was genuine, in this company deception could never stand, but it was not necessarily the support she required. Seeking to buy time to learn more, she offered provisional acceptance. “I have no intention of sending one in the body refining realm into the wastes. Rushing is pointless, but so is concocting grand schemes only to watch heavenly lightning burn them away.”

  “If we can survive the additional centuries to that day without needing to take such a risk, so much the better.” The green-haired immortal did not budge on this point, and the ripple of unexpected possibility faded away as swiftly as it emerged.

  Despite this disappointing result, Itinay filed away the small revelation all the same. It seemed Neay's devotion to the development of the sect ran both deeper and broader than she'd believed. Openness to a greater range of possibilities was worthy. It might be important, on another day.

  “How, exactly, do you mean to train up an assassin?” Uzay swiftly reasserted her position at the front of the debate, as everyone expected and allowed. “We might have old manuals describing such things, but there are no hidden killers here.”

  Of course there were not. It had been a path barely pursued even during the height of the old world's intrigues. Rituals and formations to obscure and disperse qi signatures existed, the scouts made great use of them, but nothing could reduce a cultivator's presence to nothing. To creep up on a rival, especially one strong enough that there was no hope of victory in open combat, was essentially impossible. Surprise, when sought, came instead from blasting in open a storm of fury faster than the opponent could react. For Orday's disciples, blessed with a movement technique of unsurpassed speed, that had always been their chosen approach.

  Qing Liao, if kept on his current path, would become a formidable archer, in time, but while that would make him useful on the walls, it would only be marginally more so than any of his peers. The true potential of his unique qi would never be tapped. It would never serve for expeditions into the wastes.

  “We have to depart from traditional methods for this, reach outside the sect,” Itinay was sure that, despite the lack of notice, they had all expected some version of the plan she now outlined. “And provide a teacher with different origins. The stars are with us, for the resource needed is already available.”

  “Remnant souls cannot be trusted.” That Ohlay would be the one to object first, and even her exact response, matched Itinay's predictions perfectly. Everyone else had anticipated the same.

  None of that stopped her from making the announcement or lessened its import.

  Itinay would never sigh aloud when speaking in such a critical debate, but in that moment she wanted to.

  Essential but trite as the remark was, Neay used it as a springboard to surprise her sisters for the second time in one day. “I have every confidence in Sayaana's loyalty to the orthodox cause. She has lost as much to the demons as any of us, perhaps more. Nor is her ability to teach the skills of survival in the wastes in doubt. Truthfully, it is long past time to add her techniques to our library.”

  Silence reigned between the eight as this remark, and more importantly the implications it carried, were digested by immortal minds.

  Even as Itinay considered how to work forward using this basis, Uzay preempted her deliberations. “I like that idea too,” she smirked a little. “And I want to see if it will work. Let's do that, train up this initiate as a wild assassin. We can decide whether or not to use him after we know it works. I say vote on it now.”

  That vote would pass, the flash calculation was made instantly, but Itinay was absolutely certain. A partial victory, but with six votes behind it, enough of one to accept. Qing Liao would not be ready for decades at the earliest. The composition of the council then would be very different. The initiate was a member of her pavilion, no matter what the others wished, that alone secured her critical influence over his development. “Agreed.”

  She looked directly at Neay, silently indicating that they would struggle over the remainder when the time came. Delay would serve them both. They knew each other well enough to accept this compromise.

  Even as others aligned for or against the proposal in silence, a pulse of qi rippled outward and washed over them all. Every silent shifted stopped completely. Seven heads turned to meet Iay's white gaze.

  The eldest of their number did not speak. As part of her devotion to ritual purification she hardly ever utilized words any longer. It was not necessary. With absolute control over the fluctuations of her surface qi she could make her meaning clear simply by manipulating the silence.

  Delay now, and they would only delay again in the future, a perpetual failure to determine the true outcome. This realization was dispatched to the seven. The council, being assembled on this day, must make a complete choice. It was not to be deferred.

  Neay's face, beautiful as a forest in full flush, took on a rotten cast. Uzay, too, scowled. Those who had, to this point, remained silent, now sheltered in the inaudible cloak. None wished to be called out further on their hesitancy by their eldest sister.

  Itinay raced through a mental scramble, trying desperately to determine whether or not this forcing of a vote favored her or not.

  She reached out, studying the others both physically and through the emanations of their qi, struggling to gauge where matters stood. Others did the same.

  It did not take a great deal of effort to conduct the count. Three votes, Akiray, Onimray, and herself, still solid. Two votes, Eculay and Ohlay, equally firm on the opposite side. Neay and Uzay wavering, qi unsettled as they found their preferred partial position cut away from beneath their feet. Iay, as always, utterly unreadable.

  There was no hope of persuading the eldest, or at least, of doing so with any confirmation. Instead of making such an effort, Itinay sought a means to mollify the concerns of the two vacillating sisters. The choice she chose to offer displeased her, for it lacked logic, lacked cleanliness, but she calculated it held a substantially greater chance than any other. Her greatest regret was how much control it required her to relinquish. “In order to properly produce an operative, Qing Liao and Sayaana must both agree. Their bond must be rock solid. I propose we proceed, contingent upon their agreement.”

  A second nudge flowed from Iay. There would be no more words, either in opposition or support. They would vote on this latest proposal at once.

  It took mere seconds after that.

  The result was five to three, in favor. Unexpectedly, compared to the initial expectation, Neay voted for and Uzay against, but Iay cast the deciding vote as had been determined from the very beginning. No one generated the least discontent at this. If their eldest considered the gains to outweigh the risks, all trusted in her judgment.

  Leaving such a decision to a fourteen-year-old, a boy barely out of infancy, struck all assembled as strange. Save one, they had all seen more centuries than he had years. And, there was the essential fact that he was male, and none of those who had voted were. That trait was essential, the scheme of using Sayaana would be far too dangerous otherwise, with a woman as the host, but it left all of them feeling strange.

  They were a sisterhood, twelve disaster orphans chosen by their Celestial Mother to follow her to the stars. Eculay and Onimray had adapted to the ways of their fellowship, even changing names and forms in similar fashion upon obtaining immortality. Phantom Flare, the only male to reach the seventh realm and become a grand elder in the sect's twenty-five hundred year history, though courteous to the others, remained a being apart.

  Itinay was glad he was presently in closed door cultivation. His viewpoint, alien as it was in the sisterhood, represented a complication she struggled to predict. No doubt he would have strong views on this matter, triggering an inevitable confrontation. She hoped it lay many decades in the future, with matters too far along to be truly halted.

  “As the relevant pavilion elder, I will make the arrangements,” Itinay told her sisters when it was decided. No objections were expected, none were received.

  There were no other matters before the conclave, and the meeting concluded there. All filtered out swiftly, leaving Itinay, by ancient tradition, to put the furniture back in place. They did not linger for idle talk. All such subjects had been exhausted ages past.

  Only Neay slowed her departure, waiting just long enough to grab her sister's attention at the last.

  Grateful for the unexpected support the green-blue immortal had provided, she turned to listen with clear and open respect.

  “Be cautious sister,” Neay whispered. “You are launching an arrow, not forging a sword. Once in flight none of us will be able to control what the wind wills.”

  A sound reminder, though Itinay did not feel it necessary. Change, no matter how deliberately arranged, carried risk. At the present, she simply believed that staying still had accumulated more.