Savage Divinity

On account of our early return from patrol, there wasn’t enough room for us in the nice, cozy fort, but I actually prefer camping out on the exposed plains. The hot Central summer is winding down and autumn looms around the corner, but the temperatures are still higher than what I’m used to, so it’s much more comfortable out here than it would be crammed into a sweltering, dirt-walled room next to a hundred more just like it. Large as Fort Sinuji might be, it was built with defence in mind rather than comfort, so yurt life is almost luxurious in comparison, especially if you’re not an officer. Sleeping four soldiers to a yurt is far better than twelve to a room, packed in shoulder to shoulder like a tin of sardines.

Ooh... Tins. Food preservation. I should write a letter to Diyako, the sooner we get tastier food on the front lines, the better. No wait, glass jars would be easier than tin cans. We haven’t figured out how to make the clear glass needed for telescopes and eyeglasses, but clouded glass will work fine for jarring.

While grinding the ink, I ponder over the significance of my arrival in this world for the umpteenth time. Most days, I prefer not to think about it because it reminds me of all the modern amenities I’m missing out on, like indoor plumbing and air conditioning, not to mention the existential horror it dredges up. Was I brought here for a reason? Am I bound by fate to carry out a purpose? Am I a piece in some cosmic game of four-dimensional chess? Were my memories intentionally preserved or is all this a freak accident?

Will I ever know the answers to any of these questions?

Most recently, I’ve started worrying about the unintended and unforeseen consequences of my actions, which is silly, because by definition, there’s nothing I could have done to stop them from happening. Still, I wonder if my ideas are upsetting the natural order of things. Will there be consequences if I break the status quo and enact radical change and progress? This wasn’t a problem before because no one cared about my ideas, but since introducing my book and being crowned Number One Talent in the Empire a mere four months ago, I’ve noticed a myriad of issues cropping up in its wake.

Take paper for example. Although the material now sees more widespread use and the value of literacy has risen, I’ve yet to hear of anyone opening schools or offering cheap reading lessons, so the divide between the rich and the poor will only grow instead of shrink. Paper walls are no longer a luxury for the wealthy and are now trending with the poor, and coloured paper decorations have taken the cities by storm. Forgery is on the rise, with enterprising thieves using replica seals on false orders to steal from illiterate guards and warehouse workers, and while woodblock printing presses have yet to appear, I’ve seen plenty of lewd and elaborate woodblock carvings used to stamp pictures which are then sold for a few coppers apiece. Though not as detailed as the painted fapping materials favoured by the nobility, it’s a huge step up for commoners who previously only had their imagination to work with.

So I guess I am making the world a happier place, just not a better one...

The worst fallout from my efforts is how the military wants everything in triplicate because paper is so cheap. Not only do I need to send a copy of my written orders and requests to my superior in Sinuji and high command in SuiHua, I also need to keep a copy to cover my ass. My once spacious yurt is now cluttered with chests filled with stacks of reports, orders, and correspondences, though most are written by Rustram and Silva, as my writing is barely legible and I have a tendency to ramble. I’m much neater if I use a pen, but Luo-Luo doesn’t approve. Though she likes the concept of using pens, she thinks the resulting calligraphy is too ‘prosaic and soulless’, which isn’t entirely wrong, but is totally stupid. I mean, who cares if my written characters are ‘uninspired’ or ‘lack elegance’? At least they’re legible, unlike what comes out when I use a proper brush. It’d be easy to ignore Luo-Luo if she tried to browbeat me into using a brush, but the alluring temptress has long since learned to get her way through guilt. I’ve developed an immunity to fake tears and tantrums, but when she quietly sighs and slumps down like a defeated dog, it makes my insides twist with guilt as if I were a complete monster for using a pen.

Luckily, Luo-Luo is in SuiHua and this letter will go straight to Diyako who doesn’t care if my writing is elegant. Keeping it short and sweet, I detail my thoughts as they come without caring for structure or reason, as I find my ideas are more comprehensible when I don’t think too much, else I get hung up on the details I don’t understand. Like for starters, I don’t know how glass jars keep food preserved, but I know a sealed container helps. A metal lid which screws on is probably too much to ask for, but an unbroken wax seal will probably work just as well. Oh, coloured glass candle holders would probably be popular with the nobility, though I supposed this is more Luo-Luo’s wheelhouse than Diyako’s. Fuck, guess I’ll break out the brush and write her a letter too, especially since she’s due one and I need cattle armour. At least I won’t have to find a trustworthy courier to deliver the letters, as Tenjin and Jochi’s escort can bring it with them when they set off for SuiHua in the morning. I was horrified when Mila mentioned all our letters had probably been intercepted and copied, but mostly because I’m ashamed of my calligraphy. Even Tate has better writing than I do, but I can’t get the hang of using a stupid brush.

It doesn’t make any sense. Brushes are for painting, not writing. Get it right!

After penning letters to Diyako, Luo-Luo, Lin, and Mila, I write one to Mom and Dad asking how they are and telling them about my recent run in with Gulong and everything which preceded it, including Ji Yeon and Ji Jing. I also mention Colonel Hongji’s advice, though I leave his name out just to be safe. Better if he has plausible deniability so he can safely cut ties, especially if my suspicions are correct. Regardless of who’s helping the Situ Clan in secret, the whole thing is so far above my head I wouldn’t even have noticed if it wasn’t for the good Colonel, so I leave it up to my parents to decide my next move.

Honestly, this is almost as bad as the alternative. I’m a grown-ass man running to mommy and daddy when things go wrong. It’s disgraceful, but at least this way they’ll have fair warning of the dagger hanging over our heads.

Finished just before it grows too dark to read without candles, I hand the bundle of sealed letters to a Death Corps soldier and ask him to pass them to Tursinai. She wasn’t too happy about being put in charge of the group going to SuiHui, but I could tell Tenjin was grateful. Tursinai is far more liable to take risks when he isn’t around and I know he wouldn’t sleep easily knowing she was out here with no one to watch her back. I figured I owed him as much, considering this is the second time he’s been injured while serving in my retinue, and even though Orgaal is right about it not being my fault, I still feel liable. Truth is, if we broke things down to absolute numbers, Tenjin is far more valuable a warrior than I am, what with being a twenty-nine year old Awakened Expert who’s so much stronger than his peers it boggles the mind.

Then there’s Tursinai, two years younger and lacking an Awakening, but that doesn’t stop her from beating Tenjin with one hand tied behind her back. Hell, I’ve seen her give Gerel a run for his money, and he’s supposedly the top dog amongst his generation, though I don’t see why. Alsantset and Charok are almost his equal, so baldy doesn’t really stand out from the crowd, but no one denies it. Still, it says something about his personality when the Bekhai treat him like a social outcast despite his strength, which makes me feel a little better about my almost exile.

No one likes me because I’m weird and shy, but they hate Gerel because he’s a jerk. Granted, we both almost turned Defiled, but they disliked him before that came to light, whereas I was at least tolerated.

With my letter writing out of the way, I ask the Death Corps to prepare a cold bath while I practice the Forms beneath the darkening sky. Having been placed in reserve, there is a literal army between my retinue and the Defiled, so I can set those problems aside and get a full night’s rest, provided I’m tired enough to sleep. Unfortunately, Song stole the floofs after dinner which leaves me alone for the night, so I’ll have to make do without a cuddle buddy. I could sleep outside with Ping Ping, the cattle, or the quins, but as a member of Imperial Peerage, I’m supposed to cultivate an image of grace and nobility. The Legate got his panties in a twist when I referred to myself as ‘this one’, so I’d hate to hear what he’d have to say if he hears I’m sleeping in the field with animals.

Even though he’s probably to blame for my current political predicament, there’s no sense in actively antagonizing the Legate. Hongji flat out said the Justicars uphold the Emperor’s justice, which means someone with Imperial clout saved Ji Jing from a date with the hangman. I figure either the Legate did it to keep me in line, or one of his supposed enemies has taken the field and claimed the Situ Clan for their own. A rook to deal with my pawn, as it were, but what the Legate’s enemies don’t know is I’m merely a distraction, a sacrificial piece to protect his new protege Yong-Jin, winner of the First Imperial Grand Conference and the plainest, most boring man I’ve ever met. Sure, he rocks a mean man bun, but I’ve seen statues with more emotion than the twenty-three year old Senior Captain and Awakened Expert.

Tenjin claimed Blessings have nothing to do with personality, but I gotta say, the Blessing of Wood fits Yong-Jin’s wooden personality to a T.

Displeased by my lack of focus, I buckle down and start the Forms anew, holding to Enlightenment while searching for Insight, but there is none to be had tonight, which isn’t too surprising. I’ve always been a skeptic, and even though I have solid proof that Insight is real and have even experienced it first hand, a small part of my brain still can’t believe in a mystical data download from the Heavens and thinks there’s a better explanation out there. What it might be, I haven’t the slightest idea, but it hinders my progress along the Martial Path.

Yet another purpose Baledagh served, having no trouble with Insights because he was a ‘native’ believer from this world, two things which I will never be. It’s one thing to say things like ‘accept reality’, ‘follow your dreams’, or ‘love yourself’, but not so easy to do.

This is fine. Seeking Insight isn’t the only reason to go through the Forms, it’s a full body workout in thirty minutes or less, and performing them for three hours straight is gruelling to the extreme. I’m tempted to have a set of weighted armour made for myself, but using Mom’s training methods would be disrespectful to Dad. Face and whatnot, though why this specifically would result in a loss of face, I can’t say. It’s one of those concepts which you can only understand with experience but have no basis in fact, and I have a whole lot of experience making people lose face.

Weary and dripping with sweat, I trudge past the fancy wooden partitions and say hi to Ping Ping looming above the bathtub, eagerly awaiting the results of my watery meditation session. Peeling off my sweat soaked clothes, I grit my teeth and pour a bucket of cold water over my head, reminding myself this is a choice since I am well within my rights to have a hot bath, but I don’t because I enjoy suffering and need to check my privilege. Soap and lather comes next, and I try not to look too closely at the disgusting grime which sluices off, as it will undoubtedly turn my stomach to think about the sources. When I finally feel clean enough for the tub, I slip in and smile at patient Ping Ping, who squeaks in contentment now that the waiting has almost come to an end.

Though not as enjoyable as a hot bath, a cold soak is still good for the soul, so I take a few minutes to organize my thoughts and relax my body, ready to test the theories which I’ve developed since my moment of clarity before the battle with Pudge.

Chi is Heavenly Energy which has been branded by an individual. We gather it into our Cores, and so long as it remains inside, Chi will stay as Chi and never dissipate unless used or released. If set free into the world, then Chi turns back into Heavenly Energy because that is its natural state, for Chi is merely borrowed, not owned. This is stuff I learned on day one, but sometimes, when you’re stuck on a difficult problem, it helps to go back and review the basics.

So what does this mean? To do what we do, Martial Warriors defy the Heavens and seize Heavenly Energy to use for ourselves. A fanciful concept, but it’s the indisputable truth, so why not take things a step further? Closing my eyes, I reach for Balance and step into my Natal Palace, where I am immediately set upon by a horde of Spectres, their whispered lies and forceful demands growing more persistent of late. I’m guessing it’s because not only do they all know what’s to come, a big chunk of them also know they missed their chance to take physical form with Pudge, which I suppose is the end goal of all Spectres. Infect a host, turn them murderous, make them surrender, and blammo. You got yourself a spicy Demon, though I’m still not entire sure what their motivation is. I know they’re born from despair and suffering, and Mahakala called them ‘itinerant souls seeking to break through the barrier of existence’, but that doesn’t exactly tell me much.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Focus on what matters instead of stressing about what doesn’t. You came here with a goal. Complete it. Don’t let distraction bring you to ruin.

Following my advice, I ignore the Spectres and take in the sights of my multi-faceted Natal Palace while calming my mind for the trials ahead. At the centre sits my plain, white bedroom with its comfy bed, goblet of Heavenly Energy, ceiling of carved heroics, and panoramic view, the seat of power in my domain much like Pong Pong’s coral bed and Yo Ling’s throne. While not as daunting as their choices, a bedroom suits me perfectly, because even though I am merciless to myself in my pursuit of strength, I would happily give it all up if not for my neuroses and mental trauma. Better to lie in bed and dream of heroics than live through them myself, but in this murderous hellhole of a world, there can be no peace without strength.

My Natal Palace is filled with places which remind me of what I’m fighting for. To the east sits Taduk’s underground cottage, and in the west, my favourite cliff-side perch across from it, each one positioned just as they would be in real life, albeit with the addition of two Keystones, the first aid kit for Healing and giant feather for Lightening. Mila’s forge sits alone in the north with my two most used Keystones, the shining star for Reinforcement and the hammer and anvil for Amplification, while the south sits empty and uninhabited, as I cannot support more real estate and have yet to come up with a new Keystone to put there. All together, this forms my Natal Palace, and though I cannot deny its effectiveness, it feels... lacking. Though I know it would have never worked out, I still miss seeing the village when I look out the windows, which I suppose is why I always set myself apart from it, in real life and in my Natal Palace. It’s okay though, because now, my home is where my family is, and so long as they are safe, then nothing else matters.

On that cheery note, I sit crossed-legged on the bed and open myself to the Energy of the Heavens, holding fast against the torrent threatening to sweep me away. A turbulent river, raging windstorm, blazing inferno, and destructive earthquake. Violence, yes, but there is peace too, beneath the waves and in the eye of the storm, or in the aftermath of the cleansing fire and shattered earth, the power of Creation and Destruction intertwined so closely together it’s almost impossible to separate one from the other.

In a word: Balance.

The people of the Empire speak only of the warm embrace of the Mother and the Defiled submit to the Father’s demands, but why should I pick sides? I don’t care for all the theological bullshit. Perhaps there is a Mother and a Father, a force of good and evil watching us from the Heavens, but if they brought me here as a piece for their game, then they can fuck off. I refuse to play along and I reject them both. I will not surrender to the Father, nor will I accept the Mother. Instead, I will forge my own Path. It is not a choice I make lightly, but since Martial Warriors are already acting in defiance of the Heavens, then why shouldn’t I take it a step further and defy the Deities residing within them?

No more of this mystic mumbo jumbo. Forget good and evil, there is only creation and destruction with no morality to muddy the waters. Heavenly Energy is an enigmatic force of nature, but people have been taking advantage of nature since the dawn of humanity. Whether it be working with fire or harnessing the wind, taming a horse or cracking the atom, humans have always bent nature to their will, so I will do the same. Instead of treating it like an ineffable power, I will uncover its secrets and use it to my benefit and the benefit of humanity. Energy is energy, regardless if it’s electric, kinetic, potential, Heavenly, or otherwise. The only difference is how to use it, but the first step to using energy, is to control it.

What I do now while gathering Chi can hardly be called control. I struggle, I endure, and I survive, so things must change, but how? I can’t control Heavenly Energy, but if Chi is Heavenly Energy in a different form, then it stands to reason what works for one will work for the other. I know how to control Chi. I may not understand it, but that doesn’t matter so long as it works. For awhile, I wondered which was better, Intent or Visualization, but the answer doesn’t matter when you can use both.

The Energy of the Heavens rages and coerces, abuses and nurtures, but I remain undaunted and bend it to my will by Visualizing my Intent.

No surrender and no embrace, I will not go with the flow, nor will I resist.

I contain and control.

I am the dam which stops the river, and I am the wall which blocks the wind.

I am the forge which contains the flame, and I am the drill which pierces the mountain.

Faced with my oppressive demands and unyielding resolve, the Energy of the Heavens seethes and intensifies, but I persevere as time passes. Seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know how long it takes, but I keep at it until the Heavenly Energy turns docile and... impartial, is the best word I can come up with, filled with no whispered promises or tempting demands as it submits and transforms into Chi. Where I once offered invitation and Heavenly Energy flowed into my Core to fill a vacuum, I now draw it in much like I Devour Spectres, by opening the void to the world and (sigh) sucking it in to become mine. Faced with this information, an epiphany strikes, and I realize something I should’ve figured out a long time ago. The void is my Core. That’s why Martial Warriors have access to near infinite Chi inside their Natal Palace, because it sits inside the Core! It’s a closed system, and since energy cannot be created or destroyed, anything you do using Chi inside the Natal Palace will eventually revert back to Chi. Zero net loss.

Yeah! Science, bitch!

...Honestly, seriously surprised it worked, and it raises a whole host of new questions. Not bad work though. I fixed a flaw I’ve lived with for more than two years now and also stumbled across a mundane insight into the mechanics behind Chi, but there’s still more to be done.

Yesterday, I would’ve had to hold Balance and meditate to gather Chi, but now I merely have to think and it appears, surging into my Core as if I were demonstrating Purity. Freed from the need to concentrate, I let the Chi gathering continue in the background and turn my attention to Spectres, but only now do I notice they’ve fallen silent and still. Suspended in the void, they watch in what I can only describe as abject horror, remaining frozen even as my Spiritual Water washes out and consumes a few hundred of their peers. Usually, this is when I’d call it a night, but unsettled by their unusual behaviour, I convert Chi into Water Chi and Water Chi into Spiritual Water, a process which is slow going and requires all my focus to sustain. Though it takes hours to cleanse the Spectres, I continue until every last one of the them has been turned into Heavenly Energy and deposited into the goblet, unable to rest easy with an audience of frozen spirits sitting within the void.

That’s not a good sign... but let’s be fair: if what I did horrified the Spectres, then it can’t be all bad.

...

Right?

Chapter Meme