Savage Divinity

“I’ll ask you once more, you’re certain this information is important enough to wake the boss?”

Pausing mid-drink, Jorani choked down his mouthful of jerky and flatbread in his haste to answer. “Sure as sure Mister Rustram,” he croaked, regretting his decision as the half-chewed food sat painfully in his gullet. Dried rations and water were all he could get his hands on during the short jaunt through camp to the bossman’s yurt, but after seven days traipsing through the brush eating leaves, bugs, and carrion, the stale fare tasted divine, so long as you chewed it. Coughing in a futile attempt to clear the blockage, he added, “The bossman’ll be happy we woke him, but on account of how I can’t Send yet, he’ll probably want someone keeping things quiet.” A handy little trick, blocking sound from escaping, it was a sneak thief’s dream skill. While it made the list of things Jorani wanted to learn, Sending still sat firmly at the top. Ain’t nothing better than finding honest work as an Imperial Messenger, riding past soldiers and merchants alike as they scatter at the sight of your banner.

Swallowing another mouthful of water and praying his throat would clear up, Jorani noted the number two’s nervous fidgeting in the flickering firelight, clenching his sweat-soaked handkerchief like it owed him money. Maybe it was just the giant turtle staring them down like she fancied a taste, but it was never a good sign when the top dogs were anxious enough to show it. The bossman probably started another blood feud or something, he loved starting those. Leaning in close, Jorani gave his most disarming smile and whispered, “Mister Rustram, if’n ye don’t mind me askin’, what’s got ye all twisted in knots?”

“It’s nothing,” Mister Rustram whispered back, which only told Jorani something was afoot. Why else would he whisper? Without further prompting, Mister Rustram kept going, eager to have a sympathetic ear. “It’s just... the boss has been in a dour mood of late, what with getting exiled from the city, the shark attack, and his difficulties Awakening, so disturbing his sleep to make a report about something you refused to reveal first is... stressful.”

Mother above... Shark attack? Awakening? Apparently Jorani had missed a whole dog and pony show while scouting out the ‘winery’, but it was enough to know Mister Rustram was just nervous because the bossman was being all cantankerous and such. Nothing to it, Jorani had served under dozens of bandit leaders and learned all sorts of ways to boot-lick and keep his head attached. “Don’t ye worry about a thing Mister Rustram, ain’t a doubt in my mind the boss’ll want all this kept hush-hush. Why, I bet he’ll even praise ye fer yer keen foresight.” Well, Jorani’s foresight, but it never hurt to let a superior take credit for your work, and it definitely wouldn’t hurt to let someone else take the blame.

When the bossman stepped out of his yurt, Jorani straightened up to match his posture. Always match your superior’s energy when trying to ingratiate yourself, a small trick he’d learned in years of subservience. If the boss is alert, then the lackey should be too, and if the boss is relaxed, relax with him, unless you’re on duty or got some other reason to be alert. If the boss makes eye contact, then you hold it for a second before looking away to show submission, unless you’re trying to convince him you’re innocent of whatever he’s accusing you of. Then, you open your eyes wide, stare back without blinking, and deny it, no matter how guilty you might be.

There were a lot of rules and nuances to keep track of, but Jorani hadn’t survived this long on empty words and disarming smiles alone.

Studying the bossman with a critical eye, Jorani assessed the situation in a heartbeat. Fully dressed and armed, the bossman looked like he’d fallen asleep in his clothes. No wonder number two was all jumpy, the bossman looked exhausted and for Falling Rain, that really meant something. With dark bags under bloodshot eyes, damp hair and loose collar, he hardly looked the part of young hero of the North. Still, weary though he might be, there was a rare intensity to the bossman’s gaze, a look usually reserved for his luckless opponents which was now directed at Mister Rustram, Jorani, Jinoe, Ronga, and Siyar. It was only a cursory glance, taking them all in as he did his customary sweep of the surroundings, always on the lookout for danger. Not an easy way to live, so vigilant and guarded, but with how often the bossman came close to dying, Jorani couldn’t blame him for being more careful than most.

“Jorani,” the bossman said, starting his second sweep of the surroundings. “You’re late.”

Not the best start, but he’d survived through worse. First, acknowledge your guilt. “Sorry boss.” No need for excuses unless the bossman asks for one, because otherwise he ain’t interested. Luckily, even on his worst days, Falling Rain was the most rational bossman Jorani had ever served under. A raised eyebrow was all it took and Jorani seized the opportunity to explain. “We ran into complications and I made the call to travel only at night. I told Mister Rustram here we found some damning evidence and he figured it’d be best we kept it all quiet like.” The bossman nodded along but appeared distracted as he studied Jorani’s sneaks, finally settling his frown on Siyar. Looking to number two for support, Jorani found none forthcoming, so he continued, “Ye know, with one of them Chi sound barriers or maybe we at least step inside?” The days might be warm and sunny in Central, but at night, the cold breeze coming off the Azure Sea sapped the heat right out of your bones.

Stilling but for a twitch in his cheek, the bossman stopped looking around and fixed Jorani with an unnerving, predatory glare. That’s all it took to put Jorani on edge, hairs raised by this unnerving calm before the storm, a heavy, suffocating atmosphere brought about by the bossman’s stare. What’d happened these past few days? The bossman was a harsh taskmaster sure, but he was never one to rule through fear or brutality, at least not before. Now, with his jaw clenched, muscles tensed, and deliberate, measured breaths, the bossman looked ready to explode into violence at the drop of a hat. It took all the courage Jorani could muster to stand firm without flinching and only managed it because he knew running might set the bossman off.

After long, torturous seconds, the bossman pursed his lips and huffed. “Fine.” Glancing at the empty space beside his door, he asked, “Would you mind?”

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” The fattest monk Jorani had ever seen appeared out of thin air, sitting with his eyes closed and head bowed. “Such vigilance, such perception.”

“Not really,” the bossman replied. “The grass beneath you has been pressed flat to the dirt. Mister Rustram, when we’re done here, find our guest some proper accommodations.”

“Unnecessary. This one requires nothing more than the earth as his bed and the sky as his shelter.” Opening his eyes, the fat monk frowned and said, “The barrier is in place. Ordinarily, this one would refrain from taking action, but there is an unpleasant... odour, for lack of a better word, hanging about your soldiers.”

“You feel it too?” Turning his attention back to Jorani, the bossman said, “Out with it now.”

“Right.” Swallowing his resentment over hostile treatment, Jorani recounted their trip to the winery, emphasizing their lack of preparation and how unpleasant the entire journey had been, but the bossman appeared unmoved. “Then we legged it and left them none the wiser.” His tale finished, he grimaced as Siyar handed over both copper vessels, one sealed and one broken, wrapped in several layers of cloth, and shoved into a metal helmet. “Real nasty stuff. Near as we can tell, it’s sunlight what sets it off. Ronga got some of that stuff on his hand and it stayed harmless for hours til dawn, but once it got goin’, it spread real fast. Worked its way up the arm and could’ve killed him if we hadn’t lopped it off.”

“Interesting.” The bossman’s response was less than ideal and Jorani could feel Ronga’s heart dropping. Losing a hand might be nothing to the Undying, but to a cut-purse, their nimble fingers were what they relied on to survive. They might be Bekkies now, but you never forget your roots. Turning to the monk, the bossman asked, “Your thoughts?” The monk said nothing out loud, but after a short pause, the bossman sighed. “Yea, seems about right. Okay, time to pass this up the ladder.” With that, he strode off with the monk, giant turtle, and Mister Rustram in tow, leaving Jorani and his people standing in place. No thank you, no dismissal, not even a cursory ‘good job’, the bossman just left like that.

No. This was unacceptable. Even the most sadistic bandit leader would offer a few words of praise, if only to keep up appearances.

Gesturing for the others to follow along but hang back, Jorani rushed over to the bossman’s side while giving the giant turtle a wide berth. “Beggin’ yer pardon boss,” he whispered, struggling to sound both deferential and authoritative at the same time, “but maybe ye could spare a word fer me boys back there. Not fer nothing, but they slipped into a heavily guarded compound and back out without so much as raising a whisper. I made it sound easy, but it was anything but, and Ronga did lose a hand bringin’ that stuff back. A little pat on the back would go a long way towards -”

Shutting his mouth with an audible click, Jorani shot to attention as the bossman stopped in place, the cheek twitch back in full force. Too scared to look, Jorani stared down at the tip of his nose, praying for sweet mercy and wishing he’d never opened his mouth. Damn it, he should’ve listened to Ral and caught a couple ground-squirrels to offer as tribute, but it was too late for regrets now. Time slowed as the bossman’s blurry, out of focus hand stretched out and -

Patted Jorani on the arm.

“You’re right,” the bossman said, shoulders slumping in shame. Waving for Ronga to approach, he asked, “How’s the hand?”

“Ain’t even a thing,” Ronga replied, holding his head up high. The whiny little bastard hardly kept his mouth shut these past few days, throwing scathing glares and biting remarks Jorani’s way, a poor way to thank the man who saved your life. “It’s growin’ back, but real slow goin’. Maybe three, four weeks?”

“Not bad but you’ll have to practice Healing some other time. I need you in fighting form, so I’ll speak to the Healers in the morning. Look on the bright side, at least Jorani didn’t make you taste it.” Everyone laughed except the bossman and Jinoe, who shrunk back a little, probably wondering if the bossman could read minds. Grinning like a fool, Jorani stood and watched as the bossman talked up his boys, expressing thanks and admiration for a job well done. “Get some food and rest,” he concluded, dismissing them with a clasped fist. “Tomorrow’s gonna be a busy day and some important people might have questions for you. Jorani, stay behind.”

That sucked the wind out of Jorani’s sails. “Yea boss.”

Too tired to even fake a proper smile, the bossman nodded in approval. “You’re a good leader. You made the right call to go in stealthily and keep things quiet. Now we have a chance to catch these traitors unaware. Not just that, but I was wrong and you stuck your neck out for your people. I respect that.” Giving Jorani another pat on the back, the bossman added, “Keep it up. You see me doing something off, then don’t be shy about letting me know. Mister Rustram does good work but he likes to pretend I can do no wrong. All right, dismissed. Oh and I haven’t forgotten I owe you and your boys a good meal. We’ll get to it as soon as all this clears up.”

“Thank ye boss, yer too kind,” Jorani said, waving as the boss walked out of the camp. “Why, ye don’t owe us a thing, the meal completely slipped me mind.” It hadn’t, but the lie wasn’t hurting nobody. Still waving, he watched as Jochi and Argat slipped out of the shadows to join the bossman, but knowing they needed Chi to do what Siyar could do with practised skill made it seem less extraordinary than before.

Now, hiding in plain sight next to a light source, that was impressive. Maybe the fat monk would be willing to teach Jorani a trick or two. Whistling a merry tune, he headed back to his yurt while imagining all the fun he could have as an invisible man.

A bit of thieving and peeping in the baths mostly, but motives weren’t important when it came to the Martial Path. All that mattered was strength.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stifling a yawn, Akanai smoothed out the boy’s hair and fixed his collar as he recounted Jorani’s tale. Silly child, how could the number one talent in the north let himself be seen like this, all dishevelled and fatigued. She was partially at fault, choosing to bunk down in the Sentinel camp instead of staying in his camp to keep a close watch on him, but she feared too much coddling and oversight would upset him. With so many capable guardians surrounding him and Song and Mila at his side, Akanai thought it would be safe to spend a few days with her husband after their month-long separation, but perhaps she was wrong.

At least he wasn’t slouching today, but he still refused to make eye contact, instead staring at the side of Akanai’s yurt. Oh? Was it a coincidence the boy stared at her guard Concealed in the shadows? No, not a coincidence at all. Following his eyes, she watched him spot two more guards, though he glossed over three others. Mundane perception or Enlightenment from his Awakening? Too early to tell, perhaps she should ask Jochi and Argat to test him. Interrupting his story, Akanai Sent, “How goes your Awakening?”

“Huh?” Blinking in confusion, the boy shrugged with casual indifference and Sent, “Oh. I sorta figured out how to bind water, but it’s time-consuming and near worthless. Anyway, where was I?”

Wait. “You ‘figured out’ how to bind water? When? How?”

“This afternoon?”

“And you kept it to yourself?”

“No, I told Lin and Mila. Song too, I guess.” With another shrug, the boy sighed and added, “Sorry, I didn’t tell you, it’s been a long, crazy day and I kinda forgot about it.” Gesturing at the copper vessel in his hand, he continued, “But yea, this stuff is bad news. It eats through anything and Siyar says the entire warehouse is filled to the brim with more of it. Worse-”

Ignoring the copper vessel, Akanai grabbed the boy by the chin and pulled him into the torchlight to study his expression. There was no shy smile or disguised glee, no glint of pride or sense of accomplishment, nothing but weary resignation and a touch of resentment over her rough treatment. Something was amiss. After years of obsessing over his Awakening without progress, the boy finally succeeds and comprehends the mysteries of water, and then forgot about it all in an afternoon? ‘I bound water’, delivered in the same tone one would use to say ‘grass is green’ or ‘water is wet’, this was absurd. “First, let us speak of your Awakening. Explain.”

“Let go.” His cold expression and forceful demand took her by surprise, but she loosened her grip after a second’s thought. Patting his cheek to show contrition, she resisted the urge to grin as he Sent, “Thank you. Sorry. It’s not exactly binding water, because the physical water doesn’t actually go anywhere. It’s more like... inviting the spirit of water into my core and using my Chi to copy its attributes, so I end up with normal Chi and Water Chi. Problem is, once you use the Water Chi, it’s gone and doesn’t replenish on its own. I spent hours in the bay and bound maybe a teacup’s worth of Water Chi, then immediately wasted it all by spitting it out. It’s a party trick at best, and not even an impressive one at that. Hardly worth mentioning.”

“Nonsense.” Pulling the boy into a hug, she allowed herself a smile while he couldn’t see. Hmph, and they called Tenjin talented when he Awakened at twenty; it took him over four years to condense his first flame. “This is but the first step, and an important one at that. Your Mentor’s tail will wag so hard it might even fall off.” A good thing Akanai had no such tells, her half-caribou heritage left no physical marks aside from two nubs of horn she kept filed down and hidden beneath her hair.

Belatedly noting the boy’s silence, Akanai stepped back and studied his expression once more. Still angry but directed inwards, likely blaming himself for not understanding sooner. His body language screamed of confidence, back straight, shoulders square, and head held high, but his eyes, so pained and mournful it pained her to look at. “What’s wrong child?”

She could see the struggle within his mind as he considered telling her his problems, but ultimately, silence won out. “It’s nothing,” he Sent, feigning a smile. “Like I said, it’s been a long day and there’s still much to do before morning.”

Hm... Leave him be or press a little harder?

Mussing his hair so she could fix it again, she pursed her lips and sighed. No sense pressing him for more, he was nothing if not stubborn. If he didn’t want to talk, it’d be easier to get blood from a stone. “We are here should you wish to speak. Now, regarding Jorani’s discovery, I’m not certain what you expect me to do. Manufacturing this... weaponized sludge, despicable though it might be, breaks no Imperial Laws.” She’d have thought the boy would be ecstatic to find something like this, always going on about empowering the common folk and fixing greed, corruption, and inequality like it was so simple.

“Well that’s the thing.” Looking her straight in the eyes, Rain Sent, “Something about the sludge feels like it’s related to the Defiled. I think it’s made from Demon Ichor, but I can’t be sure before Blobby comes back. Even then, I can’t prove any of this without revealing my past indiscretions.”

“You lost the Heavenly Tear?” Was it because his lack of piety finally angered Her too much? Akanai should have put a stop to this ‘Blobby’ nonsense and instilled an appropriate amount of fear and reverence into him.

“Yea, but it’s no big deal. I was waiting till sunup to go get it back, and now I even have bait.”

Gesturing at the cloth-stuffed helmet beneath his arm, the boy certainly looked confident enough, but Akanai wanted to lift him by the scruff of the neck and shake some sense into him. Religious implications aside, a droplet of Heavenly Water was a treasure grand enough to move the Emperor himself, and the boy wanted to wait until morning to get it back? Taking a long, calming breath, she grit her teeth and Sent, “Explain.”

“Oh, sure. My best guess is...”

The boy’s explanation did nothing to calm her nerves but there was no helping it. He was right to wait until sunup, so she pinched his cheek and gave him a hug, lamenting the woes of familial affection. “Giveme the unbroken vessel for safekeeping. I will pass a message along to Yuzhen and seek her advice. Until then, you are to keep your mouth shut, your temper in check and take no action against the Canston Trading Group, understood?” The Legate would not be pleased to hear of this third-hand, and even less pleased if news of this were revealed to the public.

Amber eyes glowing with hunger and determination, the boy grimaced and answered, “Yes Grand-Mentor, but if there is an assault on the winery, I want a part in it.”

“Impudent brat, call me grandmother or Mother-in-law.”

“I haven’t married Mila yet, grandmother.”

“Oh? After all you two have done, you would dare try to escape?” Finished with his hair, she hugged him again, unable to promise him what he desired. Even if Yuzhen brought this to the Legate, he might not allow an assault against an Ancestral Beast’s holdings. He might even believe this sludge to be a new weapon for the Empire and make moves to secure it. No, if the boy was right and this was all a Defiled plot, it might be best to send her own people to this ‘winery’. “Now off to bed with you. You are the number one talent in the North and the youngest second grade Warrant Officer in history, and after your foolhardy display of Awakening in the bay, you will undoubtedly be challenged by your peers.”

“Sleep can wait. Still lots to do. I wanted to go over the gifts again and make sure there’s nothing wrong with my presentation. Could I run through it with you once, so you can tell me if there are any accidental veiled insults or whatever? Then I figured I’d try to bind my new weapon, if there’s still time, since I might need it soon enough.”

As much as Akanai wanted to lie down and nuzzle her husband, the boy had good reason to be nervous. It wouldn’t be the first time he accidentally insulted someone important and with tomorrow’s event taking place before the eyes and ears of the most influential individuals in three provinces, a mistake would be costly indeed. Stifling a sigh, she went into her yurt and returned with his new Spiritual Weapon, lovingly crafted and wrapped in oiled-leather by Mila. “If you fail to bind it, return the weapon in the morning.” The boy was a tempting enough target without adding an unbound Spiritual Weapon into the mix, and if she didn’t mention it, he’d probably use it as stakes in a wager like the degenerate gambler that he was. “Come my most troublesome grandchild. Present me your gifts as you would to the Legate and let me count how many times he would sentence you to death.”

Putting an arm around his shoulder, she was delighted when he snuggled into her embrace instead of pulling away shamed-faced like he normally would. So many small changes these past few days, swimming about the bay without a leash, behaving like a gentleman with Mila and Lin, and asking his superiors for advice before taking action. Assaulting the monk in public was out of character, but even she felt the ascetic had overstepped his bounds by intruding on the boy’s yurt. While neither of them spoke of exactly what transpired in there, she assumed it had something to do with his... deviant hobby.

Young men could be worse than monkeys in heat, but at least Rain had the decency to relieve himself in private instead of sneaking off with whores and handmaidens like Fung. Perhaps a brief stint with the Penitent Brotherhood would do both Fung and Rain some good; a couple months living as a eunuch might change their perspective on women for the better.

Only... how was she to convince them to accept it?

Chapter Meme