Savage Divinity

Careful not to wake the snoring bunnies, Song slipped out of bed to greet the morning, but her efforts were for naught. Indifferent to the plight of others, Sarankho stretched her paws and arched her back before rolling right over Thumper and Flopsy to slide off the bed, moving with the sluggish grace shared by all felines save Aurie. Startled awake, the two rabbits darted and stomped about the bed in a rowdy show of outrage before angrily flattening themselves out atop the cotton covers, glaring at the indifferent Sarankho as she nuzzled Song’s leg. The wildcat’s wide eyes were the very picture of innocence and compassion as she mewled and chirped, making her odd, endearing noises to signal she wanted her breakfast. Unable to contain her laughter, Song kissed the affectionate wildcat and soothed the grumpy bunnies before bringing them all to the windowsill, where she sat and watched the orange glow of morning sunlight spill over the verdant Central Plains.

The view from her fifth-story window was dazzling to behold as she gazed out over the sea of frost-dusted grass, but with winter soon to begin in earnest, nature’s beauty was tinged with a hint of sombre gloom. When she first arrived, autumn had yet to arrive in full force and there’d been plenty of flowers to add colour to the fields of green, but those blossoms had soon wilted away to leave a drearier, more desolate landscape behind. A portent of things to come perhaps, for despite the beauty and serenity laid out before her, all Song could focus on were the signs of war, the most obvious of which was the citadel wall which sat across the way, with armoured soldiers patrolling the bleak grey battlements at all hours of the day. A paltry fifteen metres high, the wall sat almost a full level below Song’s window and only thirty metres away, hardly enough to give an army of millions of Defiled pause, but it was the best the Empire could do in so short a time. Outside the three key citadels, the walls were even shorter at a mere ten metres high, but wiser minds than hers had arranged to keep the Empire safe by digging a man-made river running from Azure Sea to Arid Wasteland, one wider than the walls were tall and deep enough to drown hundreds of thousands of Defiled within its murky depths.

From a tactical standpoint, Mama’s Khishigs could fire over the walls from the rooms and roof of this building where Roc’s flock nested for the winter, two reasons why they lived in this forward barracks instead of in the comfortable manor next to Brother Baatar’s and Medical Saint Taduk’s, which Song was grateful for because it kept her away from... him.

To the north and south sat bridges of rope and wood stretching out over the river, suspended from the walls themselves and leading down to the plains below. Only one stone bridge had been built, a wide behemoth which arched high over the waters to allow boats and barges to pass underneath, drifting downstream to the south or rowing their way back north and ferrying soldiers and supplies to wherever they might be needed. At the end of the stone bridge sat a packed dirt trail which stretched ever westward into the horizon, soon to be bustling with bodies and wagons heading out to the front lines while the weary and wounded shuffled back.

In recent weeks, Song often had nightmares of seeing Sister Mila among those woeful returnees, with Mama, Papa, and everyone else she loved out on the plains too, all injured and suffering while she watched from her lofty perch inside the safety of the citadel. Though she yearned to run out to aid them, her way was always blocked by an invisible wall trapping her in the confines of her room and leaving her helpless to do anything except watch her loved ones die, because her life no longer belonged to them.

No, it belonged to another, for during the clash with the quasi-Demon Gen, the fiery inferno which almost took Rain’s life had also consumed and destroyed Song’s Oath chain and left her bound as his unwilling slave, from now until the fateful day he drew his last breath.

If only that day would come sooner rather than later...

The air grew thin and the world closed in around her as the Heavens admonished Song for her near treasonous thoughts. That was all it took now, merely looking forward to the day of her Master’s death, for this line of thinking was too close to wishing him dead, so she concentrated on being a good and obedient slave for Rain. Appeased, the Heavens rescinded its pressure and left Song gasping for air, holding the bunnies tight as she slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Tears welling in her eyes, despair threatened to overcome her and even Sarankho’s comforting weight pressing against her failed to raise Song’s mood, so she curled up with the bunnies and wildcat to cry in silence while mourning the loss of the happy, carefree life she only recently dared to dream of.

She was still sitting there when Mama came in for their morning ritual, and her brush fell to the floor with a clatter. “Oh daughter,” she crooned, joining Song by the window and hugging her tight. “It’s alright. Mama’s here. You’ve nothing to worry about sweet child of mine. Husband! Come quick. Your daughter needs you.”

Papa’s panicked expression as he ran into the room left Song unsure whether to laugh or cry, and he quickly joined them on the floor. Wrapping Song and Mama in his crushing embrace, he muttered, “There there my girl, don’t you cry. Papa’s here.”

Nestled in their arms, Song’s tears flowed freely until she got a hold of herself, her melancholy leaving her worn and ashamed of her weakness. “Sorry Mama, sorry Papa,” Song sniffled, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. This wasn’t the first time they’d found her in tears, nor would it likely be the last, though Song had never been one for tears. A year ago, she would’ve accepted these new circumstances without blinking an eye, but now, only shortly after believing she could be more than just a mere slave, cruel fate conspired to tear those hopes and dreams apart, leaving her to this dark and dreary fate.

Why, Mother in Heaven? Why must you treat Your child so?

“Nothing to apologize for lass,” Papa rumbled, and Mama nodded in agreement, both so patient and understanding. The first time they found her crying, Papa had almost stormed off to have words with Rain, but Song’s grief and misery had nothing to do with him, not really. She trusted him, else she would never have agreed to go with him to the front lines and fight at his side, but that was supposed to be temporary. Now, she was bound to him for the foreseeable future and this minor change was enough to send her spiralling into depression, because now she had lost her reason for existence. What point was there in training so hard and forming a Natal Palace if she would never get the chance to fight alongside her family? How was she to prove her worth and repay their love and affection while bound to a bedridden Master?

Though Rain’s display of power on the fields of Sinuji was impressive beyond belief, there was little chance he would ever recover from his injuries and return to those glorious heights. Broken Blade Pichai was revered across the Empire because he was an exception to the rule, a man who overcame the odds stacked against him after losing his Spiritual Weapon, but the living legend only lost one while Rain lost three. What’s more, it took thirty years for Pichai to reclaim his status as an Expert of the Empire, and few cared to remember how utterly mediocre he’d been at first. While he eventually rose to the Peak of Martial Strength, it was only after another three decades of constant training and conflict. Sixty years passed since he was a burgeoning young talent who lost his weapon, and while his name was spoken of in the same breath as Teacher Du and Eccentric Gam thanks to their exploits in Nan Ping, Pichai was the weakest of them by far and a Peak Expert who barely made the cut, if the rumours were to be believed.

Thus, even if Rain defied the odds and made a full recovery, the chances of him returning to the battlefield in the near future were slim to none. In all likelihood, he would never recover, which meant that so long as he lived, he would be well cared for and protected, leaving nothing for Song to do except wash his small-clothes and fetch his medicine. If not for the Legate’s express orders that he remain in Central, Rain would have already been shipped back to the north with Song Oath bound to remain at his side, a mere slave to follow at her Master’s heels no matter how much Mama, Papa, Sister, or anyone else loved her. No longer was she free to join Sister out on the front lines or Mama on a scouting trip of their surroundings, or go on a supply run with Papa for fear of bringing her too far away from her Master.

None of this was Rain’s fault, but Song couldn’t help but resent him for surviving what would have killed almost anyone else. A terrible thing to think since Sister and everyone else loved him so much and he treated Song so well, but if he had died alongside the destruction of her chain, Mama would be her new Master instead, circumstances which she would have been more than happy to accept. Even thinking about this hypothetical was enough to trigger her Oaths and squeeze the air from her lungs, for she was bound to serve her Master with unwavering loyalty. Though eight weeks had passed since that fateful battle in Sinuji, Song still had yet to adjust to her new lot in life and succumbed to these perfidious thoughts at least once or twice a day, sometimes many times more. An unpleasant existence, but such was to be Song’s life until he died.

Why not hurry things along and spare him from this cruel fate?

Doubling over in pain, Song pressed herself into Mama and Papa’s embrace and cried and cried until she could cry no more, and even her loving parents could do nothing to stem the flow of tears as she mourned the life she could no longer have.

Wracked with guilt for making her loved ones worried and sad all the time, Song ate her breakfast, fed the birds, and bade Mama and Papa farewell, pretending to have business to attend to elsewhere so they could go about their day. If she stayed in her room, her parents would feel obligated to keep her company and they were both too important to be wasted on comforting a silly little slave girl like herself. Not only was her misery inconsequential, but it was also irrational, because her life was no different now than it was a few months ago when she set out for the front lines with Rain, except she could no longer pick and choose who she was bound to. At least this way there was no chance of her chain ending up in the wrong hands, and since Rain spent most of his time in bed, issued no orders, and never compelled her to wait on him, she could do whatever she wanted in her free time, most of which she used to wander aimlessly about in a sullen funk. There were a few minor responsibilities left to her, but otherwise, Song was free to do anything her heart desired, but all she could do was sulk and mope.

So long as it didn’t go against her Oaths, like thinking about how nice it would be if Rain stumbled out and...

Cutting her thoughts off before they strayed too far, Song brought the animals out to the stables where Erdene stood ready and waiting. After harnessing the sweet quin, Song went for a short ride around the citadel with the bunnies in her arms and Sarankho running along behind them to whittle away the hours before lunch. Months ago, she would have gone to the training fields to spar, but ever since Sinuji, she had little motivation to continue progressing along the Martial Path. As things stood, sister-in-law Sarnai would never let Rain get within twenty kilometres of a battlefield, and not even a direct order from the Emperor himself could force the tenacious woman’s hand, so it could be decades before Song ever saw true battle again, short of fighting off assassins coming for Rain’s head. A ridiculous notion, because with his Spiritual Weapons broken and Core shattered, he was no threat to anyone and a burden to his allies, so what enemy would be kind enough to end his suffering?

If someone sends assassins after Rain, it would be best to let him die.

The errant thought brought her pleasant ride to a crashing halt as she almost tumbled off of Erdene’s back, the Heavens punishing her once again for straying so close to violating her Oaths. Unrepentant, she amended her thoughts to say that if she were in his situation, death would be an improvement. Only then did the Heavens relent and allow Song to breathe again, so she slowed Erdene to a walk and headed towards Medical Saint Taduk’s courtyard manor which he shared with Lin. Letting herself in, Song set the animals free to roam about the courtyard with the rest of the rabbits, minus Mama Bun (who was with Rain) and a few others off on a trip with the Medical Saint, namely Ginger, Peanut, and Pepper.

Peering about in search of hidden guards, she found nothing out of the ordinary as usual and set to brushing the animals, finding joy in their happy little squeaks and sighs, not to mention Sarankho’s affectionate hugs. Once finished, Song headed to the workshop with the rabbits circling around her feet, where she cracked the door open ever so slightly to find Lin already hard at work grinding herbs with a mortar and pestle. “Morning Li-Li,” the half-hare said with a cheery smile, her hair in disarray and eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. “Don’t let the bunbuns sneak inside.”

“Good morning Lin-Lin.” Having done this many times before, Song slipped through the opening and gently shut the door behind her, making sure not to injure any of the rabbits trying to squeeze through. Ignoring the thumps and scratches of angry bunnies intent on stealing the Medical Saint’s stash of Spiritual Herbs, she made her way to Lin’s side and wordlessly offered to take over, an offer Lin was happy to accept.

“Thanks Li-Li,” Lin said, stifling a yawn as she shuffled over to light the stove and boil a pot of water. “I thought of a new prescription to try last night and wanted to have it ready before Rainy brings us out for lunch.”

Poor girl... So devoted to her beloved, Lin refused to believe Rain’s plight could not be fixed and spent hours upon hours scouring through books and medicine cabinets in the hopes of developing a cure for a shattered Core. While Song had heard of pills and elixirs to help individuals along the Martial Path, it was difficult to say whether a certain medicine was truly effective or merely a sham. Take the Rising Dragon Elixir for example, something she herself benefited from thanks to Lin’s generosity. Looking back on her experiences, Song wasn’t sure if she could attribute her current skills to the elixir, or if the elixir had no effect and she would have reached her current heights without it. There was no discernible effect from taking the medication, no miraculous boost in strength or instant increase in power, so after so many years of effort and hard work, who was to say if the medicine had any effect? True, everyone in their group who took the elixir now stood at the forefront of their peers, but they had all been prominent talents to begin with and there were probably hundreds of other young nobles who used the same elixir as well, to little or no gain.

Rain called it the ‘placebo’ effect, wherein if one believed the medicine would be effective, then their training would go that much easier thanks to the confidence and assurance gained from it. Regardless, the only medicines Song understood were those which had an obvious effect. Balms to soothe one’s aches or paste to bind one’s wounds, these she saw value in, but pills to make Core Formation easier and a tincture to help Condense an Aura? Unless they proved themselves to be one hundred percent effective, Song would never be convinced of their effectiveness, and she feared Lin’s obsession with a miracle cure would be her ruin. Then again, the Medical Saint seemed equally optimistic in discovering a cure, setting Luo-Luo to purchasing any and all Spiritual Herbs while he ran all across the Empire with the Bicorn bunnies in hopes of finding more, but thus far, there’d been little progress in Rain’s treatment unless you counted those mundane remedies like lotion for his dry skin, washes to freshen his breath, and tonics to keep him from screaming all the time.

The last was of particular importance since any sort of movement could cause him pain, but a small spoonful of clear medicine was all he needed each day, though it also made him irritably happy and upbeat. Much better than smoking up a storm like Teacher Du or Venerable Guan Suo, but with similar addictive properties. Today’s medicine was a soup, or at least that’s what it looked like to Song’s amateur eyes, a variety of ingredients all ground into a fine paste before being dissolved in boiling water. The pungent stench brought tears to her eyes, but Lin barely blinked while she worked, fanning the stove to keep the heat up while continuously stirring the pot. Praying this wasn’t for Rain to slather across his skin or wear as poultice, Song followed Lin’s directions and plucked, ground, strained, and mixed for the better part of an hour before their work was done and the medicine left on a stand to cool. Barely able to keep her eyes open, Lin thanked Song for her help before stumbling back to bed for an hour or two of rest before lunchtime, the sweet half-hare overworking herself lately to provide Rain with the care and medicine he needed. So much work just to keep him alive and well, much less the effort required to restore him back to full strength, assuming it was even possible.

And if so... was it worth all this suffering?

Banishing the thought as it came to her, Song rushed out to cuddle the animals for comfort. With nothing else to do until lunch, she lounged about in the courtyard and played with the pets until it came time for lunch, whereupon she went inside to wake Lin and help her braid her hair. Finishing just as the courtyard doors opened, Rain hobbled alongside sister-in-law Sarnai and the rest of his pets while their escort of three dozen Death Corps waited outside. As Lin ran over with the pot of medicine, Song stood to one side and tried not to resent Rain for his goofy smile or continued existence, her spirits low and emotions in flux. She took a small measure of satisfaction from seeing him choke down the vile concoction, for his grimace was ugly to behold as he thanked them for their efforts, especially with so many popped pimples marring his face. “Stop popping them hubby,” Lin said with a huff as she dabbed ointment to the wounds. “They’re gonna scar and you’re gonna be stuck looking ugly forever.”

“Ugly?” Rain asked, looking about for a mirror. “It’s not that bad, is it? Should I ask Teacher to Heal them?”

“Daddy isn’t here, and he shouldn’t Heal them anyways. You’re not eating enough yanno?” Giving him a careful hug, Lin added, “It doesn’t matter if hubby becomes pock-marked and hideous, Lin-Lin will still love you, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be more careful with your looks, ya? I like my handsome Rainy best.”

“Sorry.” Looking almost as miserable as Song felt, Rain quickly recovered his annoyingly cheerful disposition and said, “Well, we have a reservation to get to and we’re running a little late, so let’s get going.” Giving Song an awkward, almost shame-faced grin, he absentmindedly fiddled with his chest where her chain once hung and added, “I’ve heard great things about their soup-filled dumplings.”

Her mood lifting at his apparent discomfort and the thought of enjoying her favourite dish, Song walked slightly behind Rain and sister-in-law Sarnai while they made their way to the restaurant, but even short distances took some time to cover with Rain moving at a snail’s pace and needing frequent stops to rest. The Number One Talent in the Empire was now weaker than a child and thick-skinned enough to put it on display for the small crowd of detractors and onlookers lingering about, pretending not to follow or point and laugh while making every effort to ensure their sarcastic mockery was both seen and heard.

“There goes Fallen Rain, our glorious young hero. Thank the Mother he survived.”

“Perhaps some day, I too can match him in strength.”

“So lofty a goal, perhaps you’ve set your sights too high.”

And on and on it went. Though Rain seemed impervious to their slander and disrespect as he made slow progress along the cobbled pathway, the Death Corps lacked his thick skin and shameless demeanour, but their response was disheartening to watch. Their token had also been destroyed by Gen’s conjured pillar of flame and they were now in Rain’s permanent employ, but instead of bristling with rage at the poorly veiled insults directed towards their Master, the Death Corps winced and balked before the abuse and contempt, which meant in some ways, they agreed with the insults and could no longer take pride in serving at Rain’s side. Much like Song, their purpose in life was to serve, and their pride hinged upon the accomplishments of their Master. While Rain had come far in his short life, like a candle burning too bright, his time would soon be over.

Death would be a mercy, for at least his dignity would be spared.

This time, Song barely flinched as the Heavens punished her for her thoughts, for she truly believed this to be true. She was Oath-bound to defend her Master, but Rain’s existence was filled with suffering. If she came across someone in great pain and no hope of survival, she would offer that person the mercy of death, so why should it not be the same for her Master? Looking ridiculous in his puffy overcoat and thick hat, Rain’s brow dripped with sweat and his gaunt frame seemed ready to topple as he took one step, then another, his gaze fixed on the stones so he couldn’t see the mocking smiles or scornful gazes sent his way. Jaw clenched in obvious agony, he paused to catch his breath and...

...

And then he smiled. A small, celebratory smile which soon turned into a grin. “One hundred steps,” he said, eyes bright and chest heaving. “A record. The first of many, because tomorrow, I intend to break it.” With a self-deprecating chuckle, he turned to Song and added, “But sadly, I think I’ve overstepped in thinking I could make it all the way to the restaurant. Do you think Erdene would mind carrying me the rest of the way?”

Startled by his chipper attitude, Song quietly helped him onto the quin and took hold of his belt to keep him from falling off, for despite his good mood, he seemed ready to collapse. After resuming their journey at a more normal pace, she snuck a look at Rain’s face and saw his self-satisfied smile, still as foolish and idiotic as always, but it was his eyes which caught her gaze. Tired and pained, but burning with the same confidence and determination he’d always had, because he truly believed he would rise once again. A hundred steps was by no means an impressive record, but tomorrow, he would improve on it, this he’d already declared. An inspiring attitude, one Song could learn from, and she couldn’t help but hold herself in contempt for the way she’d been acting of late.

If Rain could stand firm and laugh in the face of near hopeless odds, then why should she be any different? Compared to him, Song’s circumstances were almost laughable, because in what way was she suffering? Why cry and wish for death when she had a loving family, considerate friends, affectionate pets, a warm bed, and good food to eat? Three years ago, she couldn’t even dream of a life as good as the one she led now, so why couldn’t she be happy?

It was as if there were a pall draped over her mind and a heavy weight dragging her heart down into the pits of despair, and though she didn’t know how to make herself be happy, she knew that if she continued down the path, Balance would be lost to her. Resolving to be more optimistic and return to her Martial training, she silently cheered Rain on and committed the faces of his detractors to memory, because even though she ached to draw her saber and challenge each and every one of them, this was not her battle to fight. Rain was a brilliant Warrior who’d been Blessed by the Mother, a man who trained for less than eight years before becoming the publicly acclaimed Number One Talent in the Empire, so if he did recover, even ten years was not too long for a gentleman to take revenge.

And if he never recovered? Well then those poor dandies would be out of luck, for then it would fall to Sister Mila to regain her betrothed’s lost honour, and her rage was terrifying to behold...

Chapter Meme