In the hall of stone lay nine woven mats encircling an empty fire pit.

One by one the representatives filed in, bedecked in colorful, elaborate headdresses. Each found their place and knelt, until only one spot remained.

"Gushiken abstains from the Council again?" grumbled one of the men, a pale, portly fellow with a fine, dark beard.

"Perhaps the recent attempt on his life has made him grow fearful," said another, with hair the color of old blood and a face like a fox.

"Bah. More fearful than usual, you mean."

"Gushiken is no coward," said a dark-skinned woman with short, golden hair. "He must be plotting something. Why else would he have gone to the capital at a time like this, after months of seclusion?"

"True," said the fox-faced man. "He is not a man likely to be intimidated by the likes of such disorganized rabble."

The first man nearly rose, before remembering himself. The ornaments upon his headdress swung and shimmered in the dimness. "You think those insurgents disorganized rabble? The Dolls, you fool! Think of what that must mean!"

The woman held up a hand. "Not now."

"Fine," he growled. "Let's light the bonfire and be done with it."

As if on cue, a masked attendant approached, bearing a torch. "As the lords of the hearth bear witness."

Flame burst into life, illuminating the wary expressions of all those present.

"Let us speak first of the attack," said the woman.

"It is true, then? That the target was Gushiken?" asked one of the five who had not yet spoken.

"Of course. What else could it have been?" snapped the bearded man. "What else could have spurred those rats to make their move in the capital, of all places --"

"Yet I have heard that the warehouses they hid in belonged originally to Clan Gushiken."

"Ha! I had my retainers investigate this long ago. It has been more than ten years since those properties were in Gushiken's possession!"

"In whose possession, then, were they?"

"That -- that we were unable to ascertain."

The fox-faced man chose this moment to speak. "Actually, I have received information from my own sources about the leader of these rebels."

"What!"

"Filipe Mok. Captain of the Southern Quarter, 4th division. He fought in the Great War, but left an undistinguished record. By all accounts an unambitious man who followed orders without question."

A murmur ran through the room.

"Impossible! How could such a man --"

"Was the Headmistress aware of this? What of the generals?"

The fox-faced man smiled.

The golden-haired woman said, "Clearly the man is not acting alone. There must be someone behind him."

"Of course!" bellowed the bearded man. "That explains everything! How they managed to get their hands on the Dolls, the sheer nerve behind their attack -- but you!" He pointed indignantly at the fox-faced man, who sat across from him in the ring. "You would still call them disorganized rabble?"

"I merely call it as I see it," came the cool reply. "You, on the other hand, seem to think them quite a threat."

"They nearly laid waste to the capital! How can you not consider them a threat?"

"Yet were they not easily disposed of, in the end? The military smoked out the survivors. Hardly enough of them remain now to accomplish anything of note."

"But the Captain remains unaccounted for," said the woman. "And at least three Dolls remain in their possession."

Beads of sweat ran down the bearded man's face. "Yes, yes. Exactly. With those Dolls, they can recover. They can regroup."

"What of the attendants?" cried one of the five. "Will the revival of the project be able to go ahead as planned?"

"Of course," said the fox-faced man. "His Majesty has granted us his approval, has he not? And I have people in place who shall... ensure it."

This time, it was the woman's turn to smile.

* * *

"Intan?"

Intan looked up from her bowl of radish broth to find Hadil peering down at her with a look of concern.

"You okay? You've looked pretty out of it this week."

"Mm," said Intan, thoughts already wandering off again.

Why had the sprites in the capital shown themselves to her? Had they sensed what would happen beforehand? But there had been far too many of them gathered in the same area, and none of them had offered her a warning.

If only they had.

Or had they been trying to, and she had simply misunderstood them?

"Guess I can't blame you. You were at the capital, weren't you? When it happened."

"Mm."

"Man, that must have been scary!" Then, in a quieter voice, she added, "So what do you think? Was it the same people who were behind what happened at my village?"

"Eh?" Intan blinked. "Oh. I'm not sure."

"You don't think there's two factions out there who're after the king right now? Or whatever it is they want?"

That was the current story -- to the general public, still unaware of the attacks earlier in the year, the attack on the capital was an obvious act of defiance against the king, whose palace stood barely minutes' flight away. Since the military had successfully killed or arrested most of the rebels involved, however, the threat had abated once more.

Still, a thread of uneasiness ran through the murmurs of students and citizenry alike. And Hadil, still harboring resentment regarding the military's denial of her conclusions about the tampering of the training Dolls, was naturally skeptical.

"I don't know," said Intan. "But the Dolls..."

"Yeah?"

After some hesitation, Intan said, "Remember the one at your village?"

Hadil's eyes widened. "Ah! The face wasn't painted!"

Intan nodded. "But the ones I saw in the capital, they were masked -- Red Demons."

"The face of vengeance..." Hadil looked thoughtful. Intan could practically hear the gears in her head whirring to piece things together.

Their conversation was cut short then, however, by bells announcing the end of lunch. Hadil bid Intan a hasty farewell and rushed off to her next class.

It wasn't until after all her classes (Nine Dragons training included) had finished for the day when Intan headed back to her dorm room to find a strange sealed envelope lying atop her pallet.

She picked it up and flipped it over. Scrawled on the back was a name penned in an elegant foreign script.

She flipped it over again to examine the seal, squinting at its etching for some time before finally managing to decipher it.

Tanith Singh.

* * *

You are cordially invited to the 10th Annual Solstice Party.

Winter exams came and passed, heralding the arrival of the winter holidays. Although family was usually of utmost importance during the new year's celebrations, this year most of the students chose to stay at the Academy. No one said so out loud, but many were afraid of another rebel attack despite the reassurances of the military.

As for the strange invitation from Miss Singh, however, it seemed only a few select students had received them.

"Oh, I heard the Assistant Headmistress throws some crazy party every year after winter exams are over," said Hadil. "It's mostly for the nobles though. She usually only invites students she's taken a liking to." She made a face. "Poor you. Have fun!"

Intan did not find herself reassured at all. She thought of asking Tuyet about it, but the older girl had been sent off on another mission as soon as exams ended, apparently at her own request. Intan had worried about her at first, but Tuyet had smiled as if nothing at all were wrong, and in the end there was nothing Intan could say or do.

On the night of the party, Intan headed alone to the faculty building, dressed in her uniform (she had nothing else appropriate to wear). To her surprise, the greeter at the door was the girl from the medic division, Kasih. The girl said nothing, however, and did not even look Intan in the eye as she checked her invitation with a brief glance and waved her in. Intan found this strange, but shrugged it off and entered, feeling a bit out of place.

Milling about the room were a few foreign dignitaries dressed in suits or strange costumes, various nobles from the Great Clans, high ranking officers in dress uniform. Intan recognized only the tall, imposing figure of Brigadier General Hsiung, sipping at a drink in the corner. And of course, Miss Singh herself in a lacy, low-cut gown, playing the gracious hostess as she flitted to and fro the clusters of guests.

At the center of it all stood a fuzzy, triangular pine tree bedecked with shiny decorations. Intan stared at it for some time (the sprite who had once made its home there surely must have been an odd one, even for a sprite!), before getting distracted by the piles of food.

"What are you doing here?"

Intan jumped. It took a few moments before she recognized the girl as Kikue, dressed in a demure rose dress with matching gloves, long hair braided and pinned up.

She grinned. "I was invited!"

Kikue rolled her eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have come."

"Is this your first time here?"

"Of course not." After a moment she added, "It's a waste of time, honestly. Just a bunch of stuffy old men and frivolous ladies looking for an excuse to get drunk every year."

"Then why did you come?"

"Because I had to, obviously."

Intan didn't think this was particularly obvious, and was about to point this out when she spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

"Eguzki!"

"Hey! Wait! Where are you going?"

But Kikue's voice was drowned out by the low murmur of the surrounding guests.

* * *

Eguzki was leaning against a wall, scowling and tugging awkwardly at his tie. When he saw Intan approaching, he straightened, watching warily.

"Hello!" she said. "How did you do on exams? Are the preparations for the ceremonies going well?"

"Well enough," he replied.

"Don't you want to try any of the food? It's good!"

"I'm not hungry."

Undeterred, Intan continued, "Come on! Since we're here, we might as well make the most of it!" She grabbed his hand -- to her surprise, it was cold.

"Are you not feeling well?"

He seemed just as startled as she was. "I'm fine."

But before she could drag him away from his position against the wall, a voice rang out.

"Aghavni!"

This time it was Rusli and his tall, silent friend, the former dressed in subdued robes and the latter in a pale suit.

Intan waved, and Rusli smiled back at her, until he realized who she was talking to.

"Ah -- Kaneshiro."

Eguzki inclined his head, but said nothing.

"Glad to see you both," said Rusli at last. "Enjoying yourself?"

Intan looked back and forth between the two boys before nodding.

"Have you tried the food yet? I've heard it's quite delicious this year."

Intan nodded again. Eguzki remained silent.

Rusli rubbed at the back of his neck. "Kaneshiro... How are you doing?"

Still no response. Intan fidgeted.

At last, Eguzki said, "What do you want from me?"

Rusli's friend loomed forward. Rusli placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Look," he started. "I just... It's almost been a year, hasn't it? I just wanted to let you know, I mean, I never had the chance to tell you before, but I don't bla --"

"It doesn't matter."

Intan stared at Eguzki, who glared straight ahead at nothing in particular, fists clenched. Rusli simply looked puzzled, perhaps even slightly hurt.

"Well --" Rusli glanced at Intan, then cleared his throat. "I suppose I must go greet my father." After another moment's hesitation, he added, "Good luck on the ceremonies. See you around, Aghavni."

* * *

Intan continued to stare at Eguzki as the older boys left. What had that all been about? Then she remembered her first encounter with the medic girl Kasih, and the strange exchange that had occurred then.

"Is it true that you were originally in Wisteria?" she asked quietly.

His scowl deepened. He ducked his head, avoiding her gaze. "So you've heard."

She made a small noise of confirmation, curious but reluctant to pry further.

"They must have told you about the incident too."

"Only a little bit," she said. "There was... an accident?"

"Is that what they're calling it now?" He shifted his weight, peered up at her, no longer scowling. Jammed his hands into his pockets. When he next spoke it was with an air of resignation. "It was no accident."

Intan stared. "What do you mean?"

"Vasco Morikawa. My senior in the Dragons. He would have been a third year this year. We didn't get along." He paused. "I killed him."

He spoke in such a matter-of-fact tone that Intan thought for a moment she must have misheard him. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Miss Singh slipping out to the balcony with General Hsiung. All around them, the sounds of laughter and conversation were growing louder, less inhibited. The room too had been steadily growing warmer, but Intan felt as cold as if she were standing outside, in the falling snow again.

"Do you miss being in the Dragons?" she asked.

It was evidently not the question he had been expecting, for he paused again before answering. "No. I hated it there."

"Do you like being in the Lotus division?"

He shrugged.

"Was he Rusli's friend?"

At that he laughed, a short, bitter sound. "No. He wasn't exactly the most popular fellow around."

Intan considered this. "I think Rusli means well," she suggested at last. "He's really nice."

To this he did not respond.

Just then, scattered clapping spread through the room. Intan looked up, and realized that the Headmistress had arrived, looking exactly the same as always. She joined in the applause, and noticed that Eguzki did not, but instead shrank back, flattening himself against the wall, as if fearing to draw attention to himself. But she did not have time to contemplate this as the Headmistress began to speak.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the height of winter, and the inevitable approach of the end," said the Headmistress. "Although there has been much to mourn over the course of this year, so too has there been much that might be considered joyous."

Intan began to tune out. She looked around the room, wondering if anyone else she recognized was present. By the gaudy pine tree stood skinny Gisela Liem, who had been chosen as one of the king's attendants. Rusli and his friend were chatting quietly with a group of noblemen. Nearby, Kikue stood next to a portly middle-aged man and an elegant lady who were listening raptly to the Headmistress's speech with glasses of wine in their hands. Kikue had a long-suffering look of supreme boredom plastered on her face, but no one else seemed to notice; Intan fought the urge to giggle. The two second year Dragons were present as well. But Miss Singh and the Brigadier General were still nowhere to be seen. Nor was the medic girl.

Intan turned back to Eguzki, and noted with interest that he was actually listening intently to the speech as well.

"A week from now, the ceremonies of renewal shall be held for the first time in a quarter century. And so I propose a toast now, to His Majesty the king, and to the gods and spirits of the kingdom. May the coming year bring peace and prosperity to us all!"

As the room lifted their glasses in response, Intan whispered to Eguzki, "You're not a murderer. You wouldn't have been chosen, otherwise. It must have been an accident after all, like Rusli said."

He turned to her in surprise, mouth pressed in a grim line.

"Perhaps," he said, as another round of half-drunken cheers and applause overtook the room.

Then, so quietly that she had to strain to hear, "But no one deserves to die."