Ripples. They were solid as an illusion. Steps across the water that left no trace at the source, and wore down mountains over time. She could no longer touch the surge, the storm she'd called down that swept them to safety, but she'd seen all the possibilities, and she could still catch glimpses as they flowed by. They wondered why she was less clear the more they needed her. By whose measure of clarity? None of them could see as far as she could, even in the turbulence, and in the calmer moments she was satisfied by the present.

That was not to say she wasn't paying attention, even while the play of light under the surface distracted her. They moved in a circle, ankle deep amid the lotus flowers and fragile blossoms scattered around them - teachers and novices, friends and colleagues, carrying bowls of incense with them as they held out sprigs of mint and lilies crossed overhead. The air hummed with music, poetry from a high court about the seasons as an allegory about the rite of passage.

A young man and several companies of forgetful marines who had disappeared for three months under different names traveled home. Nothing to cover up. Investigation into the program revealed the technology was still unreliable, and without the three Academy students to serve as a focus, the project was quietly dismantled and shelved. Rumours lingered about a priority target and an unprecedented display of psychic ability. The fugitive had again eluded capture.

Interest in several associates - whereabouts unknown, two possibly dead according to a video feed - participated in a major theft and security leak related to Paxilon Hydrochlorate and antidote supplies. They shouldn't have been able to break into the compound. A confirmed rogue agent of parliament had been involved in the event, but had not granted the parliamentary override that had given them access.

There were whispers among the assembly about an assassination and an inherited title, about an unknown history and other secrets. The knight