Savage Divinity

Waiting in the courtyard while Dastan gathers his people, I wrack my brain for a new plan. My original idea of scouring minds in search of Spectres came to a screeching halt once I realized I’m incapable of scouring at will. I’ve never tested it before because I was terrified of how people would react once they learned I can literally dive into their heads, but Dastan made for an ideal test subject. While the practice of slave Oaths is atrocious, I have to admit, it makes for a handy minion. So long as I hold the pendant, Dastan can’t betray my confidence, so I readied myself to dive into his mindscape and explain my powers.

Unfortunately, things didn’t work out in practice.

The more I learn, the more questions I discover. I don’t understand how I slip into people’s brains, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t insert myself into Dastan’s mindscape, which leaves me right back where I started. So frustrating. I never asked for this voodoo mind magic but the one time I try to use it, I fall flat on my face. Figures. I guess I’ll wait for Baledagh to wake up before finding out if Dastan’s people are Spectre-free. Until then, I’ll be sleeping with one eye open.

It’s a damn shame. If it’d worked, then it would have solved all my problems. Blobby itself doesn’t detect Defiled, it only cares about Demons and demon-derived commodities, so I’m forced to rely on Baledagh once more. Problem is, while Baledagh’s ability to pick out the Defiled is useful, I’d have to reveal those powers and convince the Shrike’s replacement of their validity. I figure attributing my Defiled detection prowess to Blobby was a perfect excuse, the only solution I’ve come up with which doesn’t end in the slaughter of innocent civilians. While I’m not sure how the Empire will react to the news of Heavenly Water flowing through my veins, I assume it’ll involve some threat to my life, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. I’ve no other option. Yea, I need to toughen up, but if a few months from now, Sanshu is Purged and I did nothing to stop it, I’ll never forgive myself. With Baledagh’s help, we could single-handedly save hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of lives.

All I need to do is convince the powers-that-be that I can sense the Defiled, without anyone discovering I have a quasi-Defiled alter-ego hanging out in my skull. Easy peasy.

Then again, all my internal strife is pointless if Baledagh doesn’t wake up in time, or if he’s no longer Defiled, which is a distinct possibility. I mean, if the Spectres are responsible for Baledagh’s Defiled radar, then we’re shit out of luck considering Blobby ate all the Spectres hanging out in my brain. I'm not complaining, since I’d sleep easier knowing Baledagh is no longer at risk of going full murder-hobo, but I’ll be stuck with the hard question of what to do with the ticking time bomb that is Dastan’s family.

That’s a lie. The answer is easy, I’d choose my family over his any day of the week. I mean, worst come to worst, if Blobby is revealed, I’ll throw myself at the Emperor’s mercy and become his dog to keep my family safe, but to order the deaths of innocents... No one can protect me from my conscience.

I’ve still got time to figure this out. I don’t understand, why I can’t peer into people’s heads? I’ve done it before, with Dagen, Bei, and Yo Ling, so why not Dastan's? Dagen was being mentally assaulted by a Demon, Bei was a demon, and Yo Ling... controlled Demons? Is that it? I can only mind merge with Demons or those afflicted by them? Is that why Blobby chose me, as a vehicle to deliver it to delicious Demon souls?

Falling Rain's Heavenly Water delivery service. Ha. 

Focus... Yo Ling wasn’t a Demon or Demon afflicted, so how did I invade his mindscape? What makes him different from Dastan? Was it the six collared humans? Blobby went straight for them, treating the multitude of Spectres surrounding us as a mere side dish. Six collared humans in Yo Ling's brain, six Demons under his command... Is that how Yo Ling controlled them? By stealing away their hosts’ souls and threatening each Demon’s existence?

The fuck if I know. I’m grasping at straws here, making too many assumptions because I don’t have enough information. Why is this so complicated? I always read about protagonists with wise old mentors for their spirit companion, but in this case, I am the wise old mentor.

Baledagh really got shafted by my arrival.

Hearing Dastan approach, I shelve my thoughts to take in the sight of his retinue. Overwhelmed by the administrator’s announcement, I didn’t get a good look at them earlier, but I must admit, they’re rather impressive. Backs straight and heads held high, their footsteps shake the ground as they march in time, two by two with weapons at the ready. Like a conductor keeps time for his orchestra, Dastan sets the pace for his retinue, his battered face beaming with pride as he leads them towards me. Following his hand gestures, they spread out in formation, five neat rows of ten men each, staring straight ahead until all are in place, at which point they drop to one knee, bow their heads and clasp their hands in salute. As one, they shout, “Awaiting orders, Great One.”

I really shouldn’t be intimidated by my own bodyguards. Technically slaves, but calling them bodyguards makes me feel better about the whole situation. Stupid and meaningless, but we all do what we must. “Please stand,” I say, moving closer to Dastan. Though his feet remain in place, the former Warrant Officer leans away from my approach, making me wonder if I smell bad. Probably, considering I spent all afternoon lounging with the quins, and their... unique musk takes some getting used to. Respectful of his personal space, I stop at arms length and give him a smile. “Impressive, but I prefer to keep things low-key. No need for the marching, kneeling, or shouting.”

“By your command,” Dastan replies, avoiding my gaze. What happened? During dinner, he had no problems with eye contact, but now he’s acting like a scared schoolgirl. The burdens of leadership, I suppose, can’t be too friendly with your soldiers. I guess I was spoiled by my first retinue, having forged a sense of camaraderie with them back when I was a nobody. While I was treated with respect, they never tensed up around me unless they were breaking the rules, always happy to share a drink or crack a joke.

I didn’t just lose soldiers, I lost friends.

Looking over their replacements, I’m overcome with melancholy and guilt. Forty-nine warriors, each one with a shield, crossbow, and one or two weapons of their choice. Wholly unarmoured, they wear simple brown or grey servant’s clothes scavenged from the manor closets, though they’d probably look fearsome wearing rags. With fourteen Spiritual Weapons among them including Dastan’s, it’s a world of difference from my ragtag group of former cripples who brought a sum total of zero, the difference between the commoners and elites.

At the back of the group stands a few commoners, huddled around a portly, balding man. Glancing at Dastan in question, he waves the bald man forward and says, “Great One, this is my Uncle. The trip will take time, so I thought it prudent to bring him with us. The others are craftsmen who might have other insights to add.”

I gotta say, I kinda enjoy being called ‘Great One’. “Sounds good, lets move out.” At least Dastan isn’t being obtuse and only carrying out my orders to the letter, though things might change if I have his family executed. Peering down from the balconies, the families of my new guards watch with fear in their eyes, huddled together for comfort. Ignore them, don’t get attached. It doesn’t matter if they’re innocent, it doesn’t matter if they’re kids. If I can’t bring them with me, then I must order their deaths.

It would be a mercy.

...

I hate it here.

With Dastan in command of my guards, I leave the manor for the first time since arriving, walking out with Lin on my arm. Li Song follows behind with the wildcats and bear cubs in tow while my lovely, pouting Mila claims my free hand and honours me with a stern glare. “Remember, we’re only taking the birds because you need their feathers. You have enough pets as it is.”

Flashing her a smile, I ignore her warnings while pretending to listen to her rambling. I don’t care, I’m rich, I can afford to be eccentric. I want more pets and damn the consequences. A dog would be nice, though I doubt I’d find one in an exotic animal collection. I didn’t ask for details because I’d rather be surprised, but I hope there’s something cute and cuddly for me to love and squeeze. Watching Aurie amble beside me, his slack-jawed grin brings a smile to my face. Though I love him and his siblings, I’d be the first to admit they’re not the prettiest of animals. With a head too small for their torsos and a butt-heavy frame, they look awkward in the light of day and worse by flickering lantern light. While their attributes make for a fearsome ambush predator, their aesthetics are sorely lacking, like ungainly, badly drawn caricatures done by someone who'd never seen a real cat.

Mentally apologizing to my ugly kittens, I resolve to love them all the same, no matter how many adorable, big-eyed, soft-furred pretties I adopt.

While Mila takes a breather from lecturing me, I turn to greet Dastan’s uncle. “Hello, I’m Falling Rain. These are my two betrothed, Lin and Mila, and this is our friend, Li Song.”

Thankfully, Dastan’s yet to be named uncle picks up on the hint, responding with a gruff, “Diyako.” After uttering his name, his jaw shuts with an audible click, not bothering to introduce his companions.

At least I hope it's his name and not some colourful insult in another language. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Dastan tells me you helped design the crossbows?”

“Aye.”

“So you’re a bowyer?”

“No.”

“Then... a carpenter?”

“No.”

Noticing my frustration, Dastan interjects. “Please forgive him, my uncle is a man of few words. Uncle, tell our new boss about your former duties.”

“Why?” Shooting me a glare of contempt, Diyako lifts his chin in defiance. “The bloodthirsty savage’ll set his hangman on us all the same. Ain’t nothin’ I can say to change his mind.”

It appears I’ve overlooked the minor matter of my horrible reputation. Since there’s no point in playing the nice guy, I might as well go with it. “I can’t promise to save you, but if you’re of value, then I might be more motivated to try.” Seeing his disinterest, I try a different tack. “I’m rather enamoured by your crossbows, despite their many flaws.”

“Hmph.”

Dismissive though his snort might be, I know I’ve got his attention. The best way to get through to these craftsmen types is to criticize their work. Passing Lin off to Mila, I grab Dastan’s crossbow to use as a prop. “While the drawing mechanism and the string materials are innovative, the basic structure of the crossbow leaves much to be desired. Like this trigger for example, a metal lever running parallel to the stock. Why’s it so long? You’re telling me, to lower this tiny catch by a single centimetre, I have to depress this abomination of a trigger almost a full five centimetres? It’s ridiculous.” The level squeaks as I demonstrate, continuing on before Diyako has a chance to defend himself. “What’s more, you can’t leave any fingers between stock and trigger, because if you do, the catch won’t lower enough to loose. This restricts you from keeping a firm grip while firing and worst of all, forces you to shoot from the hip instead of bracing the stock against your shoulder, which would offer better accuracy. There’s more, but the trigger alone is enough to disqualify it. It’s a pretty piece of work, but I’d wager its creator never fired a crossbow in combat.”

Frowning at my words, Diyako purses his lips, staring at the crossbow in thought. At his non-verbal request, I pass him the crossbow as he experiments for himself, before passing it along and discussing with his companions in hushed tones.

“Set the lever further up, perpendicular...”

“... Spring mounted catch, pop right back in place...”

“..Shoulder-braced, won't need to worry as much about recoil...”

After a few minutes of heated discussion, Diyako returns the crossbow before nodding in agreement. “You make good points. Sorry fer my disrespect.” His eyes burn with interest and hope as he introduces the others. “We’re tinkerers, of a sort. We’ve all manner of skills, woodworking, blacksmithing, glass-blowing and what-not. I suppose you could say we fix things that ain’t broke, make em better.”

“Did you design the catapults?” As he nods, my mind fills with visions of quin-mounted weapons of destruction, raining death upon my enemies from afar. Oh no... I need these people. They’re thinkers, problem solvers, a brain trust I can set to work on figuring out how to make all the stupid things I can remember, like paper, concrete, gunpowder, steam engines, telescopes, and those damned buckles on knapsacks.

Okay, lets not get ahead of myself. Calm down, I can’t guarantee their lives, not yet. After asking a few more questions, I hide my excitement as best I can and return to Lin and Mila. My little bunny girl gives me a sad smile but keeps silent and Mila follows suit, her eyes speaking volumes. I understand their worries but I can’t help myself. I finally have the chance to put my past life experiences to good use, without taking time away from my training.

Outsourcing is a wonderful thing.

Still dreaming of the endless possibilities, we reach our destination without fanfare. Though the city guards are none too happy seeing Dastan and his retinue, their attitudes take a full 180 once I pull out my shiny new silver-etched jade token. Happy to oblige, they open the doors without a fuss, though they send someone to notify the administrators office. I don’t mind, they’re just doing their jobs, and worst-case scenario, I pay for all the animals I adopt.

Familiar with the grounds, Diyako leads the way, my anticipation building to a crescendo as we follow the a stone-paved walkway towards a line of cages. A cacophony of squawks and chirps greet us as I open my ears, listening for the happy sounds my new, furry friends. And waiting. And listening.

... Where are the growls? The yowls? The barks and the yips? All I hear is bird-noises.

Moving down the pathway, I pass cage after cage filled with all manner of birds, fluttering about in a frenzy of colour and sound. Pretty as they are, I’m not a huge fan of birds. For one, they taste delicious and I can’t love something if I think of it as food. Second, most birds have those weird, beady little eyes, always wide open and unable to express emotion. Then there’s the projectile pooping, and I don’t need to explain why that’s a negative.

While I’m still looking for the mammals section, Diyako comes to a halt before a cage, pointing out the source of my future crossbow strings. Boasting a chubby, stocky frame, sharp, curved talons and long, pointed beaks, these birds are undoubtedly predators, a guess made all the more certain as they sit in their perches, eyeing us in silence, unperturbed by our appearance. About the size of hawk, their wings are mostly brown with a splash of blue, with a little brown and white tuft atop their head, like a bad case of bed head. White-bellied and delightfully fluffy, they’re rather cute for birds, though bigger than expected.

I’m still not super excited about them, but it’s okay. They’re resources, not companions. Reaching into my pouch, I pull out a piece of dried fish, and tap it against the bars while I prepare my Aura. The birds all eye the food, likely starving since their caretakers have all been taken into custody. Picking the cutest, fattest bird of the bunch, I extend my Aura around it, imparting a sense of love and companionship to entice it over.

“Err, I wouldn’t do that.” Diyako voices his concern as I stick my hand into the cage, but I wave it aside, concentrating on the task at hand. Using Aura for other emotions takes much more concentration than normal, only able to cover two living beings at a time, instead of the seemingly limitless default Aura. If I get the biggest, fattest bird on my good side, than the others should theoretically follow suit. After a cocking its head left and right a few times, the fatty bird flies to a closer perch, still out of reach. hopping from one foot to the next, it looks back and forth between me and the food, unwilling to come within arm’s length. Hunkering down, it looks at least three times more adorable up close, its chest and crest all puffed out, looking like an adorably angry bird. Carefully extending my arm, the fish makes its way further into the cage, but still, the fatty doesn’t move.

Aww, don’t be scared birdy. It’s okay. I’m just gonna feed you some fishies. You like fishies right? Come here and take the fishes, then I’ll pet you and love you. C’mon, don’t be shy.

Once my arm is fully extended and halfway in the cage, the fat bird flaps over and takes the treat from my hand, settling on my palm to eat. Gobbling the fish in mere seconds, the bird hops in a small circle before looking me in the eye. Aww, how cute, I’m think I’ll name you Roc, like the mythical-

Letting loose with an unholy squawk, Roc pecks my wrist, tearing away a chunk of flesh.

In bird culture, this is considered a dick move.

Yelping in pain, I withdraw my hand and glare at the bird as he swallows my flesh and flaps away. Flipping his head back, Roc opens his beak and utters forth a mocking, human-like laugh, sending a shiver down my spine. What the fuck... Is this a human in bird form? Is that even possible?

“Mean little bastards, they are. Smart too. It’s a real nightmare gettin’ their feathers out.” Diyako’s smile doesn’t help my pride, but I’ve no one to blame but myself.

Well, at least I learned a valuable lesson. My Aura, while capable of conveying emotions, isn’t quite the powerful, beast taming method I’d imagined it to be. While I can use it to let the animal know I’m friendly, it doesn’t make them friendly too. Better to learn now with the tiny birds than later with the big wolves. Ordering Dastan’s soldiers to put the entire cage on the wagon, I turn to Diyako and ask, “So where are the other animals?”

“Other animals?”

“You know, the wolves, tigers, elephants and whatnot. Something with fur, though at this point, I’ll even accept scales.”

“Ain’t no fur or scales to be found here,” he replies. “This here is an aviary.”

The blood drains from my face as I play back my conversation with Dastan. Ah, he said ‘collects exotic birds’. I got too excited and heard what I wanted to hear. No cute doggy or fluffy bunny for me... Swallowing my disappointment, I choke back a sob as Roc and his companions continue laughing, as if mocking my ruined dreams of fluffy companionship. Leaning over to pat Aurie’s head, the sweet wildcat rumbling in pleasure, bringing warmth to my heart. It’s fine, I’ve got my kitties and bears, and I can always find other adorable pets.

On the way out, I ask the guards to find someone to feed the birds or set them free. Despite my budding hatred of the avian pests, at least I can keep something in Sanshu from suffering a slow, agonizing death.

It’s not much, but it’s the best I can do. For now.

Chapter Meme