Savage Divinity

No matter how many times I see it, watching my pets wake never fails to put a smile on my face. There’s something adorable about seeing a deadly predator sluggish and vulnerable from a good night’s rest. While performing the standard cat stretch, Aurie’s hearty yawn reveals rows of razor sharp teeth, with four large incisors longer than my finger and at least twice as thick. Flopping to the bed, my fearsome floofy kitten pats my hand with his murder mitts before tapping his head, making plaintive ‘Mwars’ as he begs for head scratches. Unable to deny his request, I laze in bed and watch Suret, Pafu, and Mafu each claim a yearling to groom while the little quin pups squeak in protest or joy.

How quickly time passes. It feels like just the other day when I carried all three quin pups in my arms at once, but now I’d be lucky to manage keeping hold of one. Like oversized furred snakes, the pups squirm and fidget as they’re primped and preened, ready to charge out into the morning in search of fun and adventure. Already larger than my wildcats, the quin pups stand a little taller than a full-grown wolf and are every bit as deadly, their playful nips and pounces easily translating into more lethal applications. It’ll be a handful of years before they’re ready for riding, but at the moment, they’re more than capable of carrying Tate and Tali around, the twins and pups sharing an unspoken bond which will last their entire lives.

I pray those lives are filled with fortune and happiness instead of hardships and woes.

Opening the door to let the animals out, I watch them prance off into the morning gloom to find a forested area to do their business, marvelling at the wonders of housebroken apex predators. If only Roc’s flock were so easy to care for, the noisy birds already squawking and cackling for breakfast. Pulling off the cover to their cage reveals Roc perched front and centre in all his puffed up, chubby glory, glaring at me with his beady black eyes. “Good morning you feathery fiends,” I say, keeping my tone cheerful and chipper. “I see you’ve pooped everywhere as per usual. Now it’s time to feed you so you can poop some more. Hooray!” I’m not exactly thrilled, but they respond better when I sound happy and I’ll take any advantage I can get. I feel terrible keeping them in a cage, even if said cage takes up a third of my living space and keeps me from reaching my bookshelf. They’re birds, they should be flying through the clouds or whatever it is birds do. Hopefully we find an alternate material to strengthen bowstrings so I can set Roc’s flock free in the spring.

It has nothing to do with how creepy their dark, soulless eyes are. Nothing at all.

Many people might call me crazy for sharing my living space with twenty birds, six quins, and a wildcat, but honestly, if I could fit more animals in here, I probably would. Not only do they keep the ger warm and toasty, it saves me the trouble of walking twenty minutes to the Inner Wall where most of the quins are stabled. It's a shame my other pets have been annexed, with Lin claiming Jimjam and the bear cubs while Song and Sarankho are near inseparable, so I’m forced to make do with what I’ve got.

I am not a crazy cat person. I like all adorable animals, but the big fluffy ones are best.

The problem with birds is it isn't very rewarding, mostly dealing with a metric shit-tonne of bird poop. Roc and co. aren’t exactly large birds, but god-damn, their bowels do work. I mean, it’s not all bad, bird guano makes great plant fertilizer, even if collecting it isn’t the most pleasant of tasks and has earned me more than few strange looks.

I am also not a crazy poop person. I really wish people would stop avoiding eye contact with me. I'm not weird, just quirky.

Cracking jokes with Baledagh about pawning this work off onto him, I enter the cage and sweep the poop-covered straw into a wheelbarrow while collecting the feathers for Diyako. Roc and his flock flap around my head in celebration, making what I presume are happy noises as they leave me relatively unmolested. Mila’s been feeding my birds for a week now and they’re already so much more cooperative, almost friendly even. I haven’t been pecked in days. Days! It never ceases to amaze me how incredible Mila is at everything she does.

If I were a lesser man, I’d have developed an inferiority complex years ago. As it is, it has only just begun to develop, which is something.

After laying out a fresh coat of straw, I scatter a bucket of miscellaneous animal bits about the cage, giggling as the birds descend upon their breakfast. Annoying as they are, I have to admit, they are beautiful creatures, their vibrant blue and green wings standing out next to their brown and white torsos. With a long strand of intestines clamped in its beak, a female bird flutters over and lands on my shoulder, gobbling down her breakfast in my company. How sweet, if a little icky. Maybe I won’t get rid of these birds as soon as I can. I’m going to name this one... Yipi. Now, which of these birds is gonna be ‘Kai Yay’?

While picking out names for my birdies, Roc flies over with an unholy screech and punts Yipi out of the way, claiming my shoulder just because he can. If I hadn’t already named him, Roc would’ve been the perfect candidate to round out the trio as ‘Motherfucker’. Scooting left and right, Roc’s talons dig into my shoulder as he shoulder butts my cheek in what I hope is a show of affection rather than dominance. Knowing better than to touch his feathered poofiness, I Condense my Aura to reciprocate the affection, spreading a little Aura to Yipi to soothe her ruffled feathers as she settles onto my other shoulder.

So sweet, I should buy something for Mila to thank her. My freckled, bird-whispering, red-panda girl, so amazing.

With all my pets tended to, it’s time to make sure my family and retinue are cared for. After washing up, I throw on my fur-lined coat and hat before stepping out into the brisk morning air. Though it’s only the middle of the ninth month and the temperature has yet to drop below freezing, the frigid gales of wind threaten to steal away all my body’s warmth as I scurry into the cooking ger. The scorching heat inside the massive canvas pavilion is a welcome relief, heated by the fires going full blast as a dozen men and women bake buns, simmer soup, and sear meat. Even though we’re living in a ‘city’, the People have kept many of the same mountain village habits, working together to keep everyone clothed and fed instead of leaving each family to fend for themselves. Socialism HO! Besides, fuelling a dozen cooking gers is more practical and economical than everyone cooking in their own gers, so it’s a win/win situation for all. Sarnai usually manages details like these, but in her absence a small council of village elders have taken over, including Bulat’s mother Maira. It’s nice to see the ‘outsiders’ fitting in so well, as communal living is difficult if you’re not accepted by the community.

Patting flour from her hands, Elia greets me with a smile and a hug, the slim, cat-eared baker always happy to see me after our shared hardships at the hands of the Society. “So thoughtful and diligent,” she says, pinching my cheeks, “working from dawn till dusk yet still waking early to help prepare breakfast. If only my family’s Huu was so multi-talented, all he knows of is fighting and soldiering.”

“How has he been? I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t seen him in over a week.” I ask, feeling a little guilty for ditching my friend. Doubly so for Fung since seeing him ride for Shen Huo with only Fu Zhu Li beside him was a sobering sight, two men out of a hundred returning home alive.

Sighing, Elia shakes her head as little lines of worry form around her eyes. “He’s off with his Ma somewhere in the mountains. Silly boy, comes home with two little wives and barely rests a day before running off to train. He blames himself for his uncle’s death, you know? The sweet, silly boy, too blind to see there isn’t a person alive who could make Kalil do something he didn’t want to, not Ghurda nor Sarnai, not even Akanai herself.” Throwing her hands into the air, Elia says, “Ah, but look who I’m telling, you lost plenty of soldiers yourself. Sometimes I forget, with how young you are. Go on about your business now, don’t let this fool's prattling distract you.”

Offering my sympathies, I set to work reheating soup and making meat buns in relative peace, the other workers more than happy to leave me alone. Maybe they’re intimidated by my reputation or confused by my actions, but I prefer things this way. Small talk with strangers makes me uncomfortable and cooking soothes the soul, as nothing makes me happier than seeing my family and pets happily eating the delicious meals I’ve prepared. If it were up to me, all my loved ones would be round and flabby, living a comfortable life of luxury.

The members of my retinue also enjoy a hearty breakfast, though I feed them for different reasons. While some stand out like Ulfsaar and Ral, most of my bandits are on the shorter, scrawnier side, which makes sense considering their humble origins. So, not only do I need to train them, I also need to feed them well, providing meals with plenty of meat, grains, and vegetables so they’ll grow into big, beefy meat-shields to keep me safe. Normally, this’d cost me a small fortune, but the Bridge lost a significant number of soldiers while keeping most, if not all of their food reserves. Coupled with my connections with Yuzhen and the Marshal, I’m not only feeding my family, retinue, orphans, and former slaves at a fraction of the normal cost, I’ve even secured enough food to give it away, offering free meals to any who need it.

The general disdain for charity has kept most from taking advantage, with only the truly desperate coming to seek aid. It’s mostly women and children, though Tanaraq reports feeding a large number of wounded soldiers and labourers at the growing community five kilometres south of the Wall. I’ve also hired a small force of temporary labourers to chop bamboo, make charcoal, cart resources and whatnot. Burning dried dung might keep everyone warm, but I’d prefer not to eat anything baked over poop. Bamboo grows fast and there’s plenty of it, so it’s unlikely we’ll run into sustainability issues any time soon.

I’ll have to earn more money to sustain this lifestyle though. It’s incredible how quickly I’m spending my newfound wealth. Whatever, easy come easy go.

Stopping briefly to drop off breakfast and have a quick cuddle with the twins, I head off with Aurie and Mafu in tow. Outside the doorway leading to Akanai and Baatar’s guest wing, Li Song diligently brushes Sarankho with a rare smile on her face, so serene and tranquil I can’t even be upset over the gross misuse of the expensive emerald-studded jade comb I gifted her. As Aurie bounds over to wait his turn, I greet Li Song in passing with a wave, knowing she’ll have already eaten a delicious breakfast cooked by her new Mama. Akanai’s been working hard to welcome her second adopted daughter into the family and I couldn’t be happier for all of them. After all that poor Li Song has been through, she deserves happiness.

Honestly, I was shocked when Baledagh reported Song lacked even a hint of Taint, the Spectres unable to break through her iron will to whisper their sweet lies. In all of Baledagh’s efforts, we haven’t noticed half-beasts possessing any sort of inherent Spectre resistance which means Li Song’s resilience is either due to her own formidable resilience or Du Min Gyu’s stellar training program, or a combination of the two. I’ve always wondered why there aren’t more Defiled outbreaks among Oathsworn slaves, but I guess it’s hard to surrender to the Spectres when you're accustomed to asking permission for even the smallest decisions.

Hmm... why doesn’t everyone take an Oath to never turn Defiled? Or does it not work like that? Surely someone’s tried it before, things cannot possibly be so simple.

Like every morning since returning to the Bridge, I enter Baatar and Sarnai’s room bearing breakfast. As always, my devoted mentor is up and at em, wiping his beloved wife’s face with a warm cloth. His warm smile fills me with a measure of relief and heartache, happy to see him taking better care of himself while empathizing with his pain. “Good morning Mentor, Sarnai. The weather’s getting cold outside. Are you both comfortable in here? Do you need more quilts? Pillows? Should I have a brazier brought in?”

“No need boy, you’ve done enough,” Baatar answers with a combination smile/frown. I’m not sure how he pulls it off, but he’s both proud and disapproving at the same time. “I may not look it boy, but not only am I one of the highest ranked officers at the Wall, I am also the commanding officer. I have an army of soldiers and servants to fetch whatever I need, so there is no need for you to overwork yourself at my expense.”

Waving away his concerns as I set the table, I smile and say, “This much is nothing, I'm happy to help. Plus, starting today, Rustram will take over the daily training which gives me more time to focus on you and my own practice. I hired a half-dozen of your former Bannermen to help him out so with luck, I’ll have a proper fighting force in give or take ten years, assuming they survive long enough.”

“Ten years? You overestimate your brigands. Even Dastan and his former retinue are decades from becoming a true elite force.” Nodding as he sits to eat, he asks, “How goes your other pursuits?”

Reporting my daily progress over breakfast has become routine now, and while I’d like to have Alsantset, Charok, and the twins join us, Baatar would prefer to keep things quiet. Besides, Alsantset is hardly optimistic about her mother’s chances and the twins are too young to understand, so it’s probably better this way. So far, Sarnai’s condition has remained unchanged, but I’m still hopeful. From Lin’s nightly notes left in my ger I’ve learned Nian Zu has awoken and is well on his way towards a full recovery, which means Taduk will soon have more time to look after Sarnai. Relying on Pure Heavenly Energy to create a miracle isn’t entirely out of the realm of possibilities, but I’ve been scouring medical journals and books in hopes of remembering anything which might help.

So far, no dice.

Instead of leaving after breakfast as I normally do, Baatar throws me a curve-ball and asks me to stay behind. “Demonstrate the Forms,” he says, while feeding Sarnai a nourishing broth. “It has been too long since I instructed my Disciple. Were I to shirk my duties any longer then I would no longer have the face to call myself your mentor.”

Happy to oblige, I move the more expensive and fragile objects out of the way before starting. Taking turns, Baledagh and I show Baatar what we’ve learned in his absence, and though my mentor’s expression is unreadable as always, his wagging tail gives away his delight as he points out our flaws and offers steps to improve. Baledagh’s two original combinations, Sweeping the Fields and Clearing the Heavens, even earn us an enthusiastic ‘good’, high praise from our tight-lipped Mentor who appears to share my little brother’s fondness for naming his attacks. It feels so juvenile but I suppose it’s easier to say ‘Clearing the Heavens’ as opposed to ‘forward leap, two-handed sweep, full pivot, and horizontal slash’, or even worse, ‘Bull Form: Traverses the Mountain into Deer Form: Parting the Underbrush, with Wolf Form: Reverse Bite tagged onto the end’.

Shirt damp from exertion, I bask in the comfortable strain of exertion, the past two hours more strenuous than a full day of training with my troops. This is what I’ve been missing, solid guidance and guidelines on what to do next. Gesturing for me to sit at the dining table, Baatar holds my hand and Sends, “Taduk tells me you’ve formed your Natal Palace.”

Ohhhh more guidance, I love this. “Yea, but I’m not exactly sure what it means,” I Send in reply.

“Tell me about this mental plane of yours.”

Figures. Answers never come easily, but at least now I understand it’s because there usually isn’t just one answer. Describing my mental plane is simple enough. “Sometimes, when I meditate or ponder something important, I retreat into my mind.” Or when I need to speak with my host/twinned soul. Still not sure which heading Baledagh falls under. “It’s like I’m surrounded by vast emptiness, an area where I have total control, or close to it. Over time, I realized I could conjure up creations so I made it look like home. You know, walls, beds, couches, the normal stuff.” All to make things cozier for Baledagh, but there’s no need to list all the details.

Baatar interrupts with a questions. “Your creations, do they persist after you are gone?”

“...Err, sometimes. It’s on and off. At first, everything stuck around, but after the whole debacle with the lake, this was no longer true. It's back to being permanent now, but I... don't know why.” I figure it has something to do with Baledagh. He’s perfectly capable of doing anything I can do. His unconscious mind was probably resetting our mental plane every time I left or something, seeking to drift away into nothingness. He’s doing better now but it’s still difficult to get him to enjoy life in a meat suit. He only ever takes control to train, while spending all his time in the void meditating on all his newfound knowledge.

Although he seems fine for now, I’m fairly certain he’ll go stir crazy if he keeps it up. The sooner I can craft us a second body, the better. While it’s crossed my mind to see if one of us can jump into Sarnai’s comatose body, we both decided it was disrespectful to use my mentor’s wife in such an undignified manner. Besides, there’s the whole issue with being Baatar’s wife, and I think both Baledagh and I would prefer a body with a penis.

After answering all of Baatar’s questions, my mentor’s brow furrows in thought. “You say your mental plane first appeared around the time Vivek Daatei turned into a Demon? It explains how you escaped your illusions, but not how you helped Dagen escape his. How mysterious...” Shaking his head, his questions seem to fly away with the movement, though his eyes fill with pity. “No matter. The how is unimportant. To form your Natal Palace at seventeen is... formidable. Most do not form one until their late twenties.” My chest swells with pride but Baatar gives me no time to bask in it. “Proceed into your Natal Palace. I will instruct you on its benefits.”

Remaining in firm control, I slip into the void and pray Baatar doesn’t notice Baledagh, else I’ll be at a loss on how to explain things. Standing outside the crafted room as Blobby surrounds the space around me, I Send, “I’m there. Now what?”

“Channel your Chi.”

Opening myself to the Energy of the Heavens, I sense it slowly trickling into my core. Since my core is more or less filled to the brim, I’m not gathering Chi quickly, more in drips and drabs. I’ve noticed it before but the process of gathering Chi is like diffusion. If my core were empty, I’d gather Chi at a much faster rate. My Runic Ring removes those limits, but lately I’ve noticed it doesn’t really make a difference, so I handed it over to Rustram and instructed him to share it with the others.

“Visualize the Heavenly Energy seeping in through your pores. See how it flows into your Core and becomes yours, before circulating around and strengthening your body.”

Doing as Baatar instructs, my astral body lights up as an unending stream of energy circles throughout my body, with no beginning or end. Awesome, but I fail to understand the importance. My mind’s eye studies its progress from afar and I concentrate on my findings. The Chi in my body is... sluggish, for lack of a better word, idling about with nothing to do and I report as much to Baatar.

“You need to eat more and train less boy, give yourself time to recover. Focus now. The Chi flowing through your body, envision it flowing out from your palm, only a hair’s breadth mind you, before retracting it once more.”

This is more difficult. The moment my Chi touches the surface of my palm, it dissipates into nothingness. Stopping to think things through, it occurs to me this is practice for using Chi outside of your body, and Baatar confirms my guess in a roundabout way. “This is one use of the Natal Palace, yes. Visualization is key to using Chi, giving it purpose without words.”

The revelation has me understandably miffed. “Taduk never mentioned any Natal Palace, he’s been hounding me for years to just ‘wrap my Chi tightly and throw it out’.” The shotgun approach to using Chi, I suppose. Keep trying till you figure out something that works.

Baatar’s amusement is clear as he answers, “Taduk gives poor instruction because he has never known hardship. What is difficult for others comes naturally as breathing to him. You might as well ask a bird to teach you to fly or a fish to swim.” His explanation crushes what little self-confidence I had. For a few minutes there, I almost thought of myself as a genius. Natal Palace at seventeen, I mean, that’s pretty impressive right?

Nope. Not even a little. While I’m a step ahead of the crowd, true geniuses soar far above us all.

Oh well. Failure is nothing new. Try and fail, then try again. Such is life, failure without end.

...

Just once, I’d like things to be easy. Is that too much to ask for?

Chapter Meme