Savage Divinity

I’ve made a huge mistake.

Struggling to draw breath, I lay beneath the stars in utter stillness with my spine contorted in a torturous S-curve. Sweating from the stifling heat and arduous effort required to hold this pose, I have no choice but to endure the aching bones and convulsing muscles while cursing the decision which brought me to these dire circumstances. A tear forms in the corner of my eye but I steel my resolve and hold firm, determined to not let this ordeal break me. Surveying my moonlit surroundings, I draw strength from the occasional relaxed snore or contented grunt while lying to myself about how this suffering is worth it.

I should not have let the bunnies use me as their cuddle buddy.

Already two months old, my bicorn babies are fluffing up quite nicely now, each one a shoe-sized puffball weighing about a two kilos and growing by the day. While they have a ways to go before catching up with the dog-sized Mama Bun, I figured I should enjoy their tiny selves while I can. According to the journals I’ve read, over the next two months the bun buns will quadruple in size and reach their full adult size and weight at around two years old, which is a whole lot of growing in a short amount of time. Either way, my days of tiny bunny cuddles will soon come to an end, so when Bugs (named for his distinctive grey and white colouring) flopped down onto my belly, I thought it’d be fun to convince the rest of the family to come snuggle up with me.

And now I pay the price for my foolish and impulsive decision.

As their nubby horns and prickly claws dig into my skin, I remind myself of how dainty and fragile my baby bunnies are and resist the urge to roll away and crush them with my body. God, this is worse than cuddling with Jimjam. At least when he claws or bites me, my big murder-floof shows some restraint. Bicorn bunnies care nothing for my pain, giving it their all as they scratch, scrap, and nibble with all their might, burrowing into my skin and beneath my spine like I’m some malleable mound of dirt. They’re not being malicious, this is just their bunny instincts kicking in and telling them to seek shelter from predators before falling asleep. Absently patting a few cotton-tailed heinies (ha, bun bun buns), I take stock of my situation and deliberate how to free myself without disturbing the oh-so precious bun buns.

In the end, I’m forced to sacrifice loyal Aurie to make my escape, shifting the bunnies’ attentions to the gentle wildcat’s soft underbelly. Mewling in discontent, Aurie huffs and accepts his fate with weary resignation, rubbing his head against Ping Ping’s shoulder to calm his nerves while fifteen flop-eared bunnies burrow beneath his belly. Keeping a watchful eye on my antics, the gentle giant relaxes as I give the bridge of her nose a vigourous scratching. Yearning for the warm comfort of my bamboo-framed cot, I decide to tough it out and stay here with the big girl and keep her company during the cold lonely night. It’s the least I can do to thank her for saving my life. Then again, with the quins huddled around her, Roc’s flock perched on her back, and Mama Bun and Blackjack snoring in the overhang of her shell, Ping Ping has an army of furry creatures basking in her presence.

Hell, she’s practically a Disney Princess.

After freeing myself and stretching my cramped muscles, I find myself in need of a cuddle buddy to fall asleep, so I reach up to stroke Mama Bun’s fur until she wakes. Coming to with a sneeze, Mama Bun gives a mighty yawn before leaping into my waiting arms, her tiny paws clawing against my shirt out of sheer reflex. Having lost its shelter, Blackjack lets loose a tiny hare scream and leaps off of Ping Ping’s head to burrow between me and Mama Bun in search of safety. Fearsome predators though they may be, cloud chaser hares are much smaller than their bicorn cousins which means Blackjack is still a teensy tiny fluff ball who fits in the palm of my hand. A voracious, blood-thirsty fluff ball, but I digress. While not as hug-able as the full-sized Mama Bun, Blackjack is adorable in its own way, a short-haired, velvet-furred, buck-toothed baby who loves to snuggle.

Needless to say, Taduk is immensely disappointed in Blackjack, but Lin loves it to death. Blackjack has even taken to hiding in her robes, the lucky little vermin. If Blackjack turns out to be a boy, we’re gonna have to break him of that habit. No dudes allowed beneath my wifey’s robes except me.

Laying down next to Aurie, I lean back against Ping Ping’s soft, supple shoulder and stare up at the starry night sky. No longer able to blame the bun buns on my inability to sleep, I reflect over my latest and greatest brush with death. By all rights, I should be over the moon with giddiness at having survived without injury, but my mood is sour and temper short. As impressive as Taduk, Guard Leader, and Guan Suo’s performances were, it does little to calm my nerves as I replay the shark attack over and over again.

If Guan Suo hadn’t pulled my ass out of the water, the first shark would’ve eaten me whole. If Taduk hadn’t grabbed me and jumped away, the second shark would’ve ripped me to shreds. If Guard Leader hadn’t distracted the school, a third shark might’ve leaped up to take out both Taduk and myself. Not only was I helpless in all three situations, I had three top-tier experts with centuries of combined experience keeping me safe and I still almost died multiple times.

It’s no wonder I can’t fall asleep. My mind keeps pouring over a single question: what sort of creature is so formidable it made sharks develop an instinct to travel in packs?

...Oh and who’s trying to kill me? So two questions, I guess. Three if you include: Why?

People wanting me dead isn’t exactly new and I come close to dying at least twice a week, but I’m not used to feeling completely and utterly helpless like I did during the shark attack. Faced with almost certain death, I was nothing but a burden, a useless sack of meat literally weighing everyone down. I’ve worked hard for more than half a decade and come so far, yet all my efforts barely count for a single step along the Martial Path. No, I suppose I should call it the Martial Dao now, but I’m still not entirely clear on what a ‘Dao’ signifies. It’s all some mystical, abstract nonsense if you ask me, but everyone else seems to understand it, or at least they pretend to. They set their goals and pursue them with the utmost conviction, unwavering in their drive and self-confidence. Meanwhile, I’m aimlessly meandering through life and letting my circumstances dictate my actions instead of the other way around.

My mindset boils down to this: the world is dangerous so I must be strong. Fear is my motivation and confidence my downfall. Every time I feel like I’m getting a handle on things, the universe goes out of its way to prove me wrong. I suppose the only solution is to always be afraid, but take it from me, fear is exhausting. Always looking over your shoulder and checking the exits, keeping watch on dubious strangers or for suspicious movements, the neck swivelling alone is enough to cause a repetitive stress injury. I’m so tired of being scared but what other choice do I have?

Even while surrounded by my retinue and the many Experts within it, my brain still insists I can’t afford to let my guard down to do a little stargazing. Delivered by my overworking heart, adrenaline floods through my veins and sets my nerves on edge as my butt refuses to unclench and my eyes keep wandering towards my feet, my mind working itself into a frenzy over some unseen threat. Despite all evidence to the contrary, my instincts tell me all is not safe, that something is wrong even through there’s no disturbance in -

...

Shifting my head to the left, I spot a previously unseen twinkle in the sky, a star just barely obscured by some obstruction. Moving back to my original position, the star disappears before my eyes, only to reappear when I lean left once again. Grabbing a fistful of loose dirt, I toss it at the unseen obstruction and watch as it sails through the air and come to an abrupt stop, spilling to the ground and proving my instincts right.

Welp, I may be paranoid but at least it’s warranted.

“Who’s there?” I ask, my voice calm and steady as I point my sword at the intruder. Impressive, considering I’m freaking out inside.

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” A bald intruder materializes before my eyes, chanting some monkish sutra and smiling so widely I can barely make out his eyes. With his rotund belly, flabby cheeks, and drooping earlobes, he looks like a tubby hobo in dirty, red and yellow robes. Leaving his flat, shovel-headed pole-arm standing on its own, the ragged intruder places both palms together in a ‘prayer’ pose and bows at the waist, bringing his fingers to touch his forehead. “Such vigilance, such perception. This one commends junior brother SanDukkha on his skills.”

It takes me a moment to realize he isn’t speaking, but Sending. Usually, the odd acoustics clue me in, but his Sending sounds more natural and unaltered, like his actual voice is projecting through the air and into my ears instead of forcing itself directly into my brain. It’s a subtle distinction, but a welcome one, and I find the calm timbre of his ‘voice’ pleasant and soothing.

He’s still an intruder though, so instead of thanking the jolly fat man for his praise I leap to my feet and shout, “Guards!”

Sighing deeply, the fatman utters, “Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo,” making no move while my guards come to life. With both palms still pressed together, the intruder sidesteps Pran’s descending hammer which slams into the ground with a spray of dirt. Hot on his brother’s heels, Saluk’s axe-bladed hammer cuts through empty air as the intruder’s bulk shifts aside, a movement which separates him from his pole-arm. Undeterred, the intruder dodges a flurry of blows from the bull brothers, smiling cordially the whole while. “Brother SanDukkha,” he Sends, sounding neither worried nor flustered. “This is a misunderstanding. This one requests you have your guards stand down.”

Yea sure I’ll get right on it. Before I can come up with a suitably sarcastic retort, Argat and Jochi join the fray with their Auras unleashed. Effortlessly shrugging off their assault, the intruder continues to run circles around my guards while the other members of my retinue exit their yurts and light fires to illuminate the darkness, brandishing bows, crossbows, and blades all the while. Responding to my non-verbal orders to stay back, they encircle the portly and impossibly agile intruder whose ragged robes remain untouched despite the best efforts from my ‘expert’ guards. Hell, his hands are still pressed together and eyes half-closed, which means the jolly, fat hobo is definitely an expert.

Well, if he was here to kill me, he probably could’ve done so and left already. Besides, despite all the commotion, Ping Ping hasn’t moved, merely watching the show with a passing interest, her head still resting on her blanket-covered dirt pillow. “Stand down,” I order, and Pran and Saluk immediately fall back, but Jochi and Argat continue to fight. Unconvinced of their inferiority, the monkey brothers press their luck for a few seconds more until Alsantset snarls and repeats my orders from her vigil at her yurt door. Sheepishly slinking back, their hangdog looks do nothing to affect their wariness against the intruder.

Unperturbed by the multitude of weapons pointed in his direction, the ragged fatty presents both palms towards us in a placating gesture and Sends, “Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo. This one thanks Brother SanDukkha for his mercy.”

Mustering all the authority I can muster, I demand, “State your name and purpose.” Belatedly, I realize a tiny manlet cuddling a giant rabbit isn’t the most imposing sight in the world, but Mama Bun steadfastly refuses to leave the warm comfort of my embrace, her tiny paws clutching tightly to my loose shirt. Two months ago she was ready to kamikaze me for taking her and her babies away, but now, she’s a spoiled, petulant bun-child who’s pretending to sleep so I won’t put her down.

It’s so adorable I could almost die.

“This one is a humble monk of the Penitent Brotherhood,” the intruder Sends, “Appointed by the Abbot to serve as brother SanDukkha’s Dharmapala.”

What? “Um... I think you have the wrong person. My name is Falling Rain, not San-”

For the first time since his appearance, the jovial monk’s smile melts away. Baring his teeth, his eyes open wide and brows furrow, causing the lines on his face to crease in what appears to be a habitual and almost comical exaggeration of extreme fury. My amusement is cut short as his Aura surges out to smack me in the proverbial gut and he yells, “A Dharma name is not to be shared with outsiders!” The powerful shout reverberates through the air and sends me physically reeling, leaning against Ping Ping’s bulk for support.

Snorting in displeasure, Ping Ping lifts her head and the pressure eases away, her predatory stare fixed on the formidable monk in warning. Gasping to catch my breath, I watch in silence as the monk slowly regains his composure, his hyperbolic anger fading away with great difficulty. After unclenching his jaw, he places his hands together and interlaces his fingers, leaving his index finger extended together and pointed at the ground. The effects are almost immediate as his shoulders loosen and glower fades, as if his index fingers were a spout from which he poured out all his anger.

Clearly, the dude has some serious anger issues. Also, how’d Ping Ping relieve the pressure like that? It wasn’t Aura, but more like a metaphysical weight pressing against my organs.

Man, I wish she could speak...

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo, such anger, such sin. This one has shown brother SanDukkha a shameful sight,” the monk Sends, shaking his head in self reproach. “And to think, only hours ago did this foolish monk warn another to let go of his anger. It seems this one would do well to reflect upon his own teachings. Such hubris, such sin.”

Too nervous to keep my mouth shut, I give Ping Ping a thank you pat and quip, “Always good to practice what you preach.”

Lighting up, the monk chuckles and nods, Sending, “Practice what one preaches, this one will take brother SanDukkha’s words to heart.” Palms together once more, the monk bows and Sends, “This one apologizes for his error, but brother SanDukkha must not share his Dharma name. Such an action is forbidden by the precepts of the Penitent Brotherhood, as you should well know.”

“Yea, except I don’t know. I’m not a member of the Penitent Brotherhood.”

The monk answers out loud, but this time he’s much quieter than his previous heart-stopping roar. “Impossible. You were acknowledged and admitted by the Abbot himself, your Dharma name added to the wall by my own hands. You are a brother of contrition, plain and true.” Frowning, the monk tilts his head and Sends, “This one was told brother SanDukkha accepted our missive in Sanshu. All of this was all explained in great detail inside.”

Hmm... now that he brings it up, the name does sound familiar... Oh right, the vegetarian monks who whip themselves. Ew, no thank you. “Ah, yes, sorry, now that I think of it, I did receive a letter, and uh... thank you for the invitation, but I have no interest in joining.”

“Your interest is irrelevant,” the monk says with a smile.

“Err... Kinda seems like it is...”

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo,” the monk utters, sounding aggrieved and discouraged. “It appears there’s been a misunderstanding. Our missive was not to invite you to join but to inform you of your admission. Although you have yet to forsake the Three Desires and take up the Four Noble Truths, you are a brother of high standing in the brotherhood, second only to the Abbot himself and equal in standing to a handful of others..”

Well whoop-de-doo, I’m the second-highest ranking masochist. Still don’t want to join up with a bunch of vegetarian hermits. “Uh... Pass.” Maybe I should ease up on my training or at least try a different approach. I’m sending out all the wrong signals.

“Pass?”

The monk’s frozen smile shows signs of slipping, but I refuse to be bullied into joining. Guan Suo is here, albeit sleeping in his yurt, and Guard Leader is also probably around somewhere, hopefully. Plus Ping Ping still totally has my back, already crouched and ready in siege-mode while Aurie lays in place with a goofy smile and a horde of bunnies beneath him. Drawing courage from Mama Bun’s soft, silky fur, I stand tall and say, “Look sir, I’m trying to be polite, but I don’t want to join your monastic order, not now and not ever. I like having hair and eating meat too much to ever give up either of them. Now, I apologize for the misunderstanding which brought you so far from home, but in my defence, your missive didn’t have a return address so I didn’t know where to send a reply.” Plus, the scroll was like ten meters long, there’s no way I was gonna read all of it.

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Gazing into the heavens, the monk sighs and says, “Such ignorance, such pride, but life is suffering, and in suffering, we find life.” The monk’s devilish smile settles on me and a chill runs down my spine. “Again, your interest is irrelevant. You have been accepted into the Brotherhood and this one is to serve as your Dharmapala.”

Oh even better, they're sad, mopey, 'life is suffering' monks. “Why me?”

“Because you were chosen by the Abbot.”

“And why did he do that?” Silence is my only answer as the monk smiles and ignores the question, no matter how many times I repeat myself. Growling in frustration, I decided to move on. “Setting your strong-arm tactics aside for a second, what’s a Dharmapala?” If it’s something non-intrusive, then I suppose I can just ignore him and carry on with my life.

“In layman’s terms, this one is here to protect your Dharma.”

What the fuck is Dharma? First Dao, now Dharma, what’s with all these confusing terms?

Reading the unspoken question from my demeanour, the monk sighs and mutters a string of nonsense, his hands back in his pouring anger pose. I suppose I have that effect on people, but it’s his fault for conscripting me into monkhood. After a few seconds of silence, he says, “Explaining Dharma in totality would require several lifetimes of effort but in the simplest of terms, it is the principle of cosmic order which makes everything around us possible, the natural law of the universe. This one is here to protect you from anything which deviates from Dharma, including yourself.”

Whatever... I still don’t understand what he’s jabbering about and I don’t like that last bit, but it doesn’t sound like he has any malicious intent. I’ll ask Akanai to sort this out in the morning. The good thing is I rarely throw anything written away, which means I’m pretty sure the letter they sent me is somewhere in my yurt. Guess I should pull that out and give it a read.

First Guan Suo, now this guy. Why do I keep attracting the weird, hobo experts?

Chapter Meme

Chapter Meme 2