Strange Celestial Ch. 01

A stiff breeze blew in through the temple's broken window, snuffing out the weak, steady burn of the incense upon the altar. The window itself rattled, shifting off its broken hinge. With a creak, it popped out of its frame, hanging on by the barely-intact upper hinge and casting a deeper chill into the already cold interior of the temple.

Tab'i looked over at it, and scowled. Her brother Feyl claimed that he'd fixed it for her. He was the temple's caretaker, and while he'd never been particularly conscientious about the job, he'd also never cut corners like this. His new wife wanted him spending his time and efforts elsewhere; he was building a new house for the two of them and his mother-in-law. That, and who knew what else she'd put him up to. Things more important than taking care of a crumbling temple to an obscure Demigoddess, no doubt.

"Well, perhaps that's a good a time as any to end for the day," she said with a sigh, closing the book she'd been reading to several of the local kittens. She read stories and taught lessons most days, when she wasn't hosting services. The previous priestess, her mother, hadn't had much interest in being a part of the community and had closed the temple doors to everybody other than Tab'i. Even then, it was only after Tab'i had transitioned and expressed an interest in taking up the mantle of priestess that she'd been allowed inside to see the decrepit ruins her mother had so zealously guarded. Now that she was gone, Tab'i was still trying to earn back some good will from the town so that she could stop this place from falling even further into disrepair.

Most Rakshasa on the wild plane worshipped the Goddess Basset in some form or another. There were gigantic congregations in the major cities, religious political alliances that spanned continents, and then even her own tiny temple out here in the middle of nowhere. The town of Rhea'va was more specific, it was the resting place of one of the Goddess' daughters, Rhea-Tralluru. That level of specificity went above most Rakshasa's understanding of history and doctrine, however. Almost nobody knew who Rhea-Tralluru was anymore, even in the town that housed her tomb and bore her name.

The main chamber emptied, children shouting goodbye to Tab'i and expressing their appreciation for her. She waved them out the door and went over to the broken, swaying window. She saw some bits of wood and some flimsy broken nails hanging on to the bottom half of the window where Feyl had hastily done his repairs. It was little surprise that it had broken again, and she scowled at the shoddy work.

"I'll have to have a word or two with that bum," she muttered to herself, as she went up into the top floor of the temple. This floor was her living quarters, and had achieved its current state of squalid livability after almost a year of cleaning up after her mother's hoarding and isolation. She dug through one of her dressers to find a blanket that she could hang over the broken window, and carried it downstairs. With a sense of determination, she fastened the blanket over the window in an semi-effective attempt to keep the wind out. She labored at it for almost an hour, finding edges to wind her blanket around so that it might somewhat stay in place.

She stepped back to regard her work with a displeased grimace. Suddenly, as if to mock her efforts, the blanket started to flap in an increased breeze.

"Are you joking?" Tab'i muttered to herself. Before she could do anything about it, she noticed that there was a soft thrum far in the background accompanying the draft. She scowled and walked up to the blanket so that she could peek out through the broken window. It took her a moment to find it, but up in the sky, an Imperial airship was landing on a nearby plateau that overshadowed the town. Tab'i's eyes went wide, and a chill went down her spine all the way to the tip of her tail. What was an airship from the Unified Rakshasa Families doing here? The Families never came this far out into the fringes of the Wild Plane. She wondered if they were here for the Tomb, and immediately her thoughts went to Feyl. He was the one who normally held onto the Tomb's keystone, being the temple's caretaker.

Tab'i walked out into the streets, and found several people already out of their homes, milling about anxiously. No doubt they were worried about the airship, the same way that Tab'i was. She walked briskly through the streets to Feyl's home and knocked. His wife answered, and then immediately scowled when she saw it was Tab'i.

"Where's Feyl?" she asked before the woman could make a rude comment about her gender behind her husband's back. As awful as his wife was, Feyl had never been anything but supportive.

"He's gone to greet the imperials with the Elder," she huffed. And he doesn't need you getting hi- Hey!" She didn't wait for her nonsense, she ran towards the outskirts of the town, hoping to get to Feyl before it was too late.

**

Ca'raca's eyes wandered across the dossier in front of him, trying to absorb the information within it but not getting much accomplished. He'd hoped this mission would give him a chance to relax a little as they flew from place to place, but instead he'd found that the time he needed to fill out reports combined with all the hands-on work was drowning him. It was bad enough that the Family was trying to tighten its grip on some territory that was traditionally held quite loosely, but on top of that, their eldest son had run away. Succession wasn't something Ca'raca cared about in the slightest, but now the higher-ups had him running down leads, which was just more busy work for him.

"Captain?" his assistant was at the door, timid voice barely audible over the hum of the airship engine.

"Ca'raca scowled at the mostly unread dossier and shuffled it off to the side. "Come in," he called.

Klaayi opened the door. Her uniform was pressed and tidy to a compulsion and her dark skin tone contrasted against the pale gray fur on her tail and ears. "We're beginning final approach to Rhea'va, Captain. We'll be descending in five minutes."

"Thank you," he murmured, locking his documents away so that the turbulence of landing didn't throw them everywhere. Klaayi stood to the side and let him pass out of his private cabin so that he could make an appearance on the main deck. When he arrived, he saw that the Wild Plane's sun was shining bright with an odd, slightly pinkish hue to it. Despite how bright it was, it was a cool day with the wind barely being noticeable as the ship's lateral movement had mostly stopped at this point so that they could descend. This close to the edge of the Wild Plane, weather anomalies weren't uncommon. In the span of only a few hours, the sun could easily darken to a dim blue and the temperature could spike up. It was an unpredictable region to live in and Ca'raca wondered what odd Rakshasa would live here on their own accord.

"Probably miscreants and outcasts..."

There were twenty soldiers at their posts out on the main deck and about five flight crew. Half that were off shift, sleeping or relaxing in their bunks. Ca'raca was the only magic user on the ship, the noble Rakshasa families only shared their magical arts with the most select of servants, their Dreamers. The squad had a half dozen spitfire rifles being wielded by the senior soldiers, and the rest all had crossbows and swords. All in all, it wasn't an extremely formidable force, but it was more than enough to effortlessly suppress the worst of what they could possibly face out here. Wild beasts and uppity peasants would be child's play, should Ca'raca deem it necessary to put them down with force.

Ca'raca let himself be seen, the soldiers saluted him and one of the flight crew found time away from what she was doing to salute him, too. They touched down in a wide meadow on a hilltop that overlooked the settlement that was their destination, and the flight crew buzzed with new duties, making sure that everything went well, even as the soldiers on board stood to attention, waiting for his cue.

"Squads two and five, with me. The rest of you, set up a perimeter, keep a patrol up around the plateau." They went into motion immediately, acting with a practice and familiarity that came from being in the same company for half of a Celestial Cycle. It was unusual for Ca'raca to bring two squadrons with him, but this little settlement was outside the Family's normal reach and he wasn't sure what to expect.

The nine of them wound their way down the side of the plateau. It was clear that there had been a path down here generations ago, but it was overgrown and half collapsed. On several occasions, Ca'raca conjured a pair of ethereal axes to hack down gigantic vines and tree limbs in their way so that they could proceed without taking a diversion. The settlement came into view, and Ca'raca tried to remember how many people supposedly lived here. The dossier had said two hundred, but it had clearly grown and probably had two or three times that, now. A motley group of had assembled to greet him, about six civilians all arranged around an elderly-looking Rakshasa leaning on a cane.

"Captain Ca'raca, representative of House Talla," Ca'raca strode right up to the elderly Rakshasa and addressed her.

"Talla... haven't seen the ghost of any of you since I was a kitten," the female Rakshasa's gravelly voice spoke with a mixture of scorn and suspicion.

"Things change. This settlement is technically on Talla's sovereign territory. We're here to enforce."

"Goddess' Ire you are! You're jus—" a rash-looking Rakshasa to the Elder's left growled and stepped forward, an ethereal blade forming in the air between him and Ca'raca.

His soldiers' reaction was instant. Before the Rakshasa could take another step, rifles were cocked and aimed at him, swords drawn, and crossbows aimed. Ca'raca looked at him disdainfully, noting that his pitiful and illegal use of Magic were completely lacking the sophistication and technique that he possessed. There was a moment of tense silence, before Ca'raca laughed mockingly, dispelling a bit of the atmosphere.

"You're sheltering a Feral, are you?" he asked the Elder as he conjured three axes into existence. The ethereal weapons hovered and surrounded the Rakshasa who'd stepped forward, the threat unspoken but extremely obvious.

"You can conjure a single formless blade, I can make three keen weapons."

The townsfolk all shuffled nervously and stepped backwards, save for the Feral Rakshasa and the Elder.

"Feyl is gifted. Magic was intuitive to him, not taught," The Elder explained slowly and carefully. She looked at the offending Rakshasa, Feyl, with some sense of regret. Ca'raca couldn't help but feel some sense of disgust that she was abandoning him, but then again, he was giving her no choice.

"Is that right? Well, you can make your case with Tradition Enforcement when they stop by. For now, He'll need to come with us. My reports say that this town was initially built around a platinum mine. Is it still active at all?" Ca'raca glared at Feyl. The nervous Feral, who was barely more than an adolescent now that Ca'raca looked at him, let the pitiful conjured weapon fade.

"Been inactive for a long time, but we still have a few bits and pieces, if that's what you're after..." the Elder murmured, placing her other hand on her cane for stability.

"Talla metalsmiths want to test the purity of it. Get me two kilograms that came from your mine and that'll be enough for now. Does this one have any relatives, since he's so 'gifted?'"

The Elder didn't react to the question immediately, she just slowly shook her head. Ca'raca wasn't looking at her, though, he was watching Feyl, and the boy flinched when he said 'relatives.' "He doesn't..." the Elder rasped unconvincingly.

Ca'raca ignored her, and walked up as close to the youth as he could get without stepping inside the ring formed by his ethereal weapons. "Care to verify that, boy? Your mother here? Brother? Maybe a sister? Do I need to squeeze these poor townsfolk to get her identity out of—"

"You keep your hands off my sis—" Feyl snarled, but the Elder cut him off with a sharp hiss.

"Stop talking, Feyl!" The Elder's recriminating voice silenced him. The boy flinched again, and shrunk back with a bit of a shiver.

Ca'raca looked over at the Elder with a triumphant smirk. "Make it three kilograms, cooperate fully, and we won't hunt his sister down, too."

***

Tab'i watched the exchange, peeking out above the rooftops. She saw her foolish brother get himself into trouble, and saw the Elder back down like a coward. They made Feyl drink something and he slumped over, barely able to stay standing while two of the soldiers carried him off back towards their ship. She watched the cowardly Elder lead the remaining soldiers through the settlement, shaking people down for their heirlooms and keepsakes. She darted just ahead of them, using subtle illusions to mask her passage, making sure that her magic wasn't so thick so as to be detected by the foreigners. Their leader had used magic too, and had used it far better than Feyl could. He would know what it smelled like. Even if they weren't looking for her in connection to Feyl, the major Rakshasa families thought that magic belonged to them. Rakshasa who used it without their permission were labelled Feral, and were hunted down in a manner that the name implied.

Tab'i held out hope that the Elder would avoid taking the soldiers to the Temple so that they could ransack it. Even if she was a coward, the Elder was clever and skillful enough to divert them through other parts of the settlement if she wanted. Ornaments and heirlooms couldn't be truly replaced, but the temple was sacred.

When it became obvious that the Elder would be taking no such risks, Tab'i hissed in anger, and bolted ahead of the procession towards the temple. She stood there outside the doors, arms crossed, a dark expression on her face. The Elder led the soldiers straight towards her, and she was sure to give her an equal amount of scowl to match what she was giving the soldiers. She was suddenly glad that Feyl's inclination towards working outdoors had left him with a tan and that the fur on his ears and tail were more of a spotted white compared to her black and gray. If the two had looked like obvious siblings, it wouldn't have been possible for her to confront the Imperials here.

"Is he going to be a problem?" Ca'raca asked, pausing in front of her.

Tab'i felt a hiss rumble in her chest and her tail swished angrily but before she could correct him, the Elder spoke up. "This is Tab'i, she is the priestess here..." To her credit, the Elder did put strong emphasis on the pronoun, correcting the bigoted imperialist before Tab'i could.

Ca'raca snorted at the correction and gave Tab'i another dubious look that was clearly not the look of a Rakshasa changing his stupid mind.

"You're lucky I'm not here to correct deviancy against the Goddess. Stand aside, boy." he said darkly.

"This is a temple of that very Goddess that you seek to defile," Tab'i snarled. "Her daughter Rhea-Tralluru sleeps here and it is my duty to—" Ca'raca conjured his axes again, two of them zipping past her to rip into the rusty and dilapidated framework holding the door together. The third hovered just in front of her, keeping her still as Ca'raca tore open the entrance to the temple.

"Deviancy and heresy. You'll want to have this behavior corrected the next time House Talla visits, we're quite strict about these things." Ca'raca looked at her with an arrogant, pitying expression, and stepped past her into the temple, followed by the Elder and the soldiers.

Tab'i trembled with impotent rage. She wasn't a reckless fool like her brother, she didn't compulsively reach for her magic. Ca'raca was clearly very skilled, and while Tab'i was confident that she had a chance to best him, she didn't have soldiers with her. She didn't think she could count on the Elder or anybody else to back her up, either. She turned around to follow the procession into the temple, but two soldiers armed with crossbows and swords stopped her and shook their heads.

"Best move along, kid. Don't piss the captain off any more than you already have."

Tab'i felt a cold, pure rage settle upon her. 'Don't piss him off.' As her anger subsumed her, she knew that she would do far, far more than just piss off this worthless pile of imperialist shit. They could plunder the temple, but Lady Rhea-Tralluru's sacred crest would be beyond their reach without the keystone, which was held by her reckless brother.

She darted off, heading in the direction that the Talla goons had taken Feyl. They had at least an hour on her, but they were dragging a semi-conscious Rakshasa with them, so she knew there was a chance she could catch up. She knew the trail they'd have taken to get down here, and followed it easily. Ca'raca had been as subtle as a Horned Devil in making his way down to Rhea'va, leaving a trail of destroyed foliage and boot imprints in the dirt. She ran as fast as she could whilst still keeping a keen ear open for the sound of the soldiers she was pursuing. She found them at the top of the plateau, heading through the soft grass towards where they'd anchored their airship. Tab'i charged, and the two soldiers looked backwards, confused. One of them let go of her brother and tried to step forward to accost her, but she conjured an ethereal spike and rammed it forward into his chest, taking him completely by surprise. His companion dropped Feyl and fired a crossbow at her but she formed an ethereal barricade to block it, and then another spike to impale him, too. Both of the imperials collapsed as Tab'i dismissed her constructs, rushing forward to help Feyl. Her brother struggled to stay on his feet and looked drunkenly over at Tab'i.

"..sis?" he slurred, but she didn't answer. There was a bit of love that bloomed in her chest for her stupid older brother. Even drugged and in danger, he looked at her and saw her as his sister. She lamented her decision to not ruin his marriage to his awful wife; he deserved better, but it wasn't Tab'i's decision.

She heard shouting almost immediately, and saw motion on the deck of the airship. A group of imperials were also not terribly far from the two of them approaching on foot through the tall grass of the plateau. Tab'i saw the silvery gleam of one of their accursed spitfire rifles amongst them, the weapons they wanted to make more of using Rhea'va's platinum, no doubt. She hissed out a curse and formed an ethereal wall for her and Feyl to hide behind. A moment later, a crack split the air, and the discharge of the rifle ripped her barricade apart with a crackle of electricity and fire.

Tab'i gasped in pain as her spirit felt like it was bursting out of her chest, but the barricade did its job and kept them alive. "Feyl, c'mon," she groaned, grabbing him and dragging him back the way they'd come. To his credit, Feyl did his best to keep up with her and didn't slow her down as much as he had the soldiers. It was hardly a fair comparison, of course, the soldiers didn't have people shooting at them when they'd dragged Feyl here.

As they hit the edge of the plateau, another discharge of one of their rifles split the air next to them, continuing on into the forest to rip several trees apart. Tab'i tried not to worry about how close she had just come to being turned into a charred corpse, and darted out of line of sight. She assisted Feyl down the path as quickly as she was able, pushing and encouraging him to keep pace.

"How'd you... what?" Feyl asked once they were out of immediate danger.

"They're going to try to rob Lady Rhea-Tralluru's tomb," Tab'i growled. "I'm going to use the keystone to go in the back door." She reached over and ripped the stone off of the string that held it around Feyl's neck.