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Forge of Destiny - Threads 47 Signs 2
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... d the damp grass on the river’s shore, she stopped restraining her qi, and her flute materialized in her hand. The moment she did, the lazy ripples of the slow flowing river churned and thrashed. She glimpsed a piscine silhouette forming beneath the surface before a jet of extremely dense pressurized water shot out and cut straight through her chest, carving a gouge in the rock behind her. Ling Qi raised her flute to her lips as her form wavered back into solidity, unperturbed by the attack.
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