Depthless Hunger

Omilaena had always hated tribes.

They went by different names, depending on whether you were on Rosemount, Cloudspire, or Deadwaste. Sometimes they were called sects, sometimes guilds, sometimes even stranger names, but they were all essentially tribes. Bands of people grouping together for their own benefit, pretending that they cared about some abstract concept and would support one another.

"Thank you so much for doing this," Feida said. "It's nice to have another tribeswoman."

Case in point.

As they walked into the tent, Omilaena kept a fake smile on her face, as if she really cared about the Manticore tribe. They all had the same name and same tattoos, but the way they tore one another apart was proof of just how little their kinship meant. Feida pretended they shared some bond due to their sex - sisterhood as just another tribe - but would have betrayed her instantly, if she could get away with it.

"I'm surprised you want me to do this," Omilaena said as she set up the needles and mana ink. "I've only done a few tests."

"Anyone with your strength obviously has the capacity." Feida pulled off her robes as she lay down on the table, exposing her back. "Besides, some of those old tattoo practitioners tend to.... take liberties."

Omilaena was tempted to get handsy herself, just out of irritation, but restrained herself. She needed the full cooperation of the Manticore tribe, at least until she had everything she needed. So she just gave a sisterly smile, picked up her needles, and got to work.

Tattoos spread across Feida's back, more delicate than the male tattoos Omilaena had worked on - sometime she'd need to ask about whether that was personal reference or necessity. Mana didn't tend to be gendered, but you could never tell. Her job for today was simple: expand the black tattoo on the woman's back to connect with the serpents that stretched from her arms to torso.

That was the other reason Omilaena was endlessly thinking about tribes and how much she hated them: she wasn't really doing this for herself, but for Kai. The tribal factions wanted him to serve as a leader, and that seemed like the politically easiest choice, but he was skeptical about their cultivation tattoos. Rightly so, from what she'd seen so far, since they seemed limited in various ways.

If she was here, working for the sake of others, did that mean she was just part of her own tribe? She'd become more bonded to Kai and Zae Zin Nim than she expected, and they had carried her when she was depressed and falling behind. But now she couldn't help but fear being left behind again, growing complacent and stumbling into all the problems she'd worried about before.

For several minutes Omilaena wiped her mind free of everything but the work. She gathered the mana into her needle, surrounded it with a layer of qi, then pushed it down into the skin. Bit by bit she drew an image into the other woman's back, new whorls of color that merged her two tattoos.

The work gave her some distance from her negative thoughts. Where had all of that come from? She had been entirely happy for months, even in the Pureflower sect. It made her think back to old fears that she was too ruined to remain in a stable relationship, even one that had been almost perfect so far. Would she really endure so long for those two, then throw it away?

"If Kai joins the tribe," Feida spoke up, "will you join too?"

"Can't say." Omilaena pushed the next needle in more aggressively than necessary. "Would that force me to get a big manticore tattoo?"

"It isn't required, but it binds the tribe together. And the added power is nothing to scoff at."

"So I'm coming to understand. Tell me more."

This was just standard manipulation, pretending to be friendly to draw out more information. Omilaena was happy to do that, and focused on gaining intelligence for the rest of the tattooing session. She'd already mastered the basics, which any idiot could manage, and was rapidly gaining a stronger understanding of the fundamental principles.

The difficulty, she thought, was that the cultivators themselves didn't fully understand what they were doing. All cultivators inherited techniques from previous generations, but most comprehended them - the Manticore tribe was in decline, just copying what generations before them had done. Because the ink creation and tattooing processes could be done by rote, they didn't need to fully understand in order to acquire power.

When she finished the work, Feida went to a mirror to admire the new tattoos, while Omilaena took a look at the woman's soul.

Name: Ahn Xi Feida

Total Power: 749

Cultivation: Earth Soul 1% (419)

Manticore Tattoo (+125)

Physique Level: E-0 (80)

Serpentskin Tattoo (+60)

Soul Level: 6 (36)

Reaper Tattoo (+29)

>

Her expansion to the tattoos had added about 15 Power, or a 2% increase. That was simultaneously significant and nothing: more than Omilaena had yet accomplished with a tattoo, just insignificant compared to the level of power she needed. Still, it was a step forward.

"This is excellent." Feida nodded to her as she pulled her robe back on. "You keep getting better at this."

Stolen story; please report.

"Give me more ink and designs, and I'll keep doing what I can. Anything for the tribe." Omilaena realized she'd gone a bit too far, and the sarcastic phrase rang clearly hollow, but Feida only shot her a brief glance. They would overlook everything when it came to power, here.

"That was the last thing I needed," Feida said. "Do you think we're ready to attack the vault, or do you need more preparation time?"

"We're ready as far as I'm concerned," Omilaena said. "Go contact Kulha if you want to set things up."

"Let's do it tonight, then. The longer the Quill faction sits at the patriarch's vault, the more they'll build up the defenses."

As Omilaena removed all the tattoo supplies, she smirked to herself. Kai was the one who had wanted to put off the attack for the sake of the poisoned or injured tribe members. She'd helped them, since they were a military asset and it helped strengthen the Prana Jewels, but she didn't care. Sooner was better as far as she was concerned.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Her plan was to take a small group of stronger cultivators and take the vault, capturing its resources, before Zae Zin Nim could get back from her trip. Then Omilaena could give her a perfect pill to break through her barrier as a gift... she couldn't let Kai show her up in the romantic gestures department, after all.

Just as she started to walk out of the tent, Kulha walked in. "You ready?" he grunted.

"I hope I am. Just how strong is this Sky Soul?"

"Uh..." Like clockwork, Kulha's eyes slid down to her chest. Omilaena pretended not to notice while shifting her posture to draw more of his attention. "Not bad. Has some other mercenaries with him, strange types."

"Well, I'll just have to trust you to handle those." Omilaena winked and sauntered away.

Men like Kulha were so easy it almost wasn't fun. Going back to old patterns was just reassuring, like a well-worn dress that fit her perfectly. She didn't have many options for teasing lately: it was just flirtatious with Kai, and Zae Zin Nim wasn't visually-oriented enough.

Yet somehow, the actions didn't fit quite as comfortably as they used to.

By that evening, they had assembled a group of six: Feida, Kulha, and four other Earth Souls from factions they had absorbed. Not a bad squad, presuming that Omilaena could take on the Jackal mercenary. She presumed that she could, since a truly strong Sky Soul couldn't be so easily purchased.

Seven, if Omilaena herself was part of the group.

She let the others run over the operation and just considered the group from a strategic perspective, with special attention to their tattoos. The strongest all had multiple mana tattoos, but she had yet to see a single person with two that enhanced the same attribute. It always began with a cultivation tattoo, then expanded into Physique or Soul. Was that pattern significant, or just a practice that they mindlessly replicated?

"Ready?" Feida looked at her and Omilaena gave a sharp nod, as if she'd been paying attention. "Then we move out. Be ready for anything."

They headed out into the night, making quick time toward the vault. As they went, Omilaena's mind wandered in strange directions. She wondered if it would be possible to use the tattooing technique in other contexts, such as Deadwaste. Their mana was definitely too weak, but it might fit in their souls. Could she liquefy steel and use it to give Irunians tattoos?

None of that helped her, really. Omilaena decided that the thoughts didn't hurt because at least they were more interesting than the tribal business.

Once they finally got within range of the vault, however, she focused. Her opponent was a Sky Soul, after all, and even if Omilaena had the edge in power she wasn't guaranteed victory. Regardless of all her other thoughts, she needed to take this deadly seriously.

The vault itself proved to be a small part of the patriarch's outpost, which was a massive complex with three concentric walls. At the height of the Manticore tribe's power, the place must have been bustling with activity, but now it was in disrepair and their group easily slipped over the first two walls.

As soon as they reached the central region, Omilaena felt that something had changed. There were thin lines of qi... not wires, maybe threads? She raised a hand to the side to make all the others stop as she analyzed the situation.

One of the Earth Souls kept bungling forward, tripping through one of the threads. He didn't die, but Omilaena felt the qi snap and power lit up within the central building.

"Fuck." Omilaena gestured to the others to back up. "You just warned them we're coming."

Kai and Zae Zin Nim definitely wouldn't have made a mistake like that. Either she was too used to them or she was just bad at working in teams in general. Omilaena spun needles in both of her hands and waited for the inevitable.

A head poked up from the central building and Omilaena hit him in the eye with her first needle. Just a Qi Condensation cultivator, basically a rounding error in a battle like this. She had barely pulled her hand back when the real threat struck.

Ragged robes exploded from the house, streaking straight toward her. Omilaena dodged to the side on instinct and realized that there were threads of qi flying out from the figure, trying to catch her. She ducked aside and sliced through one of the threads that got too close, only for the thread to wrap around her knife, binding it.

Too bad for him. Omilaena let go of the that knife in the same motion she formed another and hurled it directly at the cultivator's face. He jerked backward, barely buying himself enough time to reach up and grab it out of the air. When his hand closed around the knife, however, he snapped it in half.

There were other mercenaries emerging from the house, but all of Omilaena's attention fell on the Sky Soul. As he stopped moving so rapidly, she realized that where most cultivators wore ornate silk robes, he wore a tattered cloak. He could definitely have afforded better, and it was so torn at the bottom edges that it seemed like a statement.

"I am Jackal Thirteen," the man said. "Did they hire a mercenary to oppose me?"

"Not a mercenary," Omilaena said with a shrug. This one wasn't going to be deceived with a little cleavage, so she got a good look at his soul before he could shroud it again.

Name: Jackal Thirteen

Total Power: 1253

Cultivation: Sky Soul (910)

Demonic Threads (+94)

Physique Level: D-0 (200)

Soul Level: 7 (49)

>

With over 1250 power, this Jackal tribe mercenary actually had the edge over her, meaning she would need real strategy to punch up against him. Omilaena found herself smiling as she readied her knives for the fight.

"Enough!" Before they could act again, a voice rang out over the courtyard. For some reason the Manticore tribesmen actually stopped their attack, turning to stare.

An elderly man emerged from the front door of the complex, thin and wizened, but not bent. He wore Manticore tribe robes and an elaborate hairpiece that must have marked him as some sort of authority. His movements were stiff, at minimum severe arthritis, and his skin looked unhealthy in the low light.

"Patriarch?" Feida took a step forward, eyes wide. "We heard you were near death."

So this was the dying Manticore patriarch? His power was hidden by a strange sort of shroud, but he seemed in better health than reports had indicated. Was this more complicated than Omilaena had thought, or was she even on the wrong side, part of some rebel tribe? Not that she cared, but things had suddenly gotten more interesting.

"Are you well, patriarch?" Feida took a step closer, trying to peer at his face in the shadows of the building.

The old man coughed into one hand, a rough hacking sound. Something about the movement struck Omilaena as deeply wrong on a level she couldn't pin down and she called "Look out!" on instinct.

Too late. Feida started to move back, but the patriarch lunged out, his hand passing through her throat. It tore her flesh like wet paper and she dropped with a spray of blood. Only in the moment of the attack could Omilaena see the glinting of a new sort of threads, subtle lines of qi that led back to Jackal Thirteen. He grinned, and the other mercenaries all began to attack.

In the moment she had left, Omilaena looked back to the patriarch, and this time managed to see his soul.

"Well, shit," she said.