Savage Divinity

A new day dawns, and it’s looking to be a good one, with plenty to look forward to in the near future. Not only is my beloved Mila back and acting extremely affectionate, but my friends and retinue have returned too. In a few days, we’ll celebrate the new years as one big happy family, with plenty of food, gifts, and good cheer to share and indulge in. The only person missing is Yan, but she’ll be here a week after new years, so I have more to look forward to. What’s more, Taduk is off at the farm testing the efficacy of Divine Poop Plant Fertilizer, with thousands of Khishigs there with him to provide protection and distraction for the low, low cost of room and board. If things work out, then at the bare minimum we’ll have a near endless supply of Spiritual Plants to use as we please, yet another fortune simply waiting to be spent.

Expecting another peaceful morning with Mom and the twins, I am instead greeted with a crowded dining room filled with a half-dozen guests, namely BoShui, Dastan, Sahb, Wang Bao, Ulfsaar, and Neera. Alsantset and Charok are also here, which is to be expected since we all live together, but the others are an unexpected surprise, and not just because of the odd grouping or early hour. Though unsure why BoShui brought all my recent Experts to visit, judging by the looks of relief etched across their faces, I’d say they regret swinging by so early and without mentally preparing for the force of personality I call Mom.

I love her to bits, but I’ll be the first to admit she takes some getting used to. For the first few weeks after I arrived in the village, I thought she wanted to straight up murder me. Fierce.

Ignoring the brief expressions of pity flashing across most of their faces, I wave and say, “Hi everybody!” No one returns the greeting with ‘Hi Doctor Rain’, but I don’t blame them since I have no idea why they should. While hobbling over to the dining table, I watch the twins Demonstrate the Forms in the courtyard and wonder how much longer it’ll be before I can do the same, because even though I’m enjoying this sedentary lifestyle, I’d like to go on strolls around the citadel without almost collapsing in exhaustion. Tate is focused as ever, but sweet Tali slows her movements to show me a wide-eyed, miserable pout, one which breaks my heart despite knowing she’s faking it and just wants to eat pastries. Her mother knows it too judging by the way Tali jumps in surprise and gets back to the Forms, no doubt being scolded through Sending for trying to take advantage of her soft-hearted uncle.

Still... the poor girl looks so sad and blue, maybe this training is too much. I should talk to Alsantset about it, or at least save a few pastries for them. They don’t need to be too strong, because I will straight up murder anyone who even looks at them funny.

...Is this how arrogant young masters are born? Bah, who cares. They’re cute, so they can be as arrogant as they want. I’ll allow it.

Waving away everyone’s attempts to help me over, I notice Alsantset would’ve ignored me and come anyway if not for Mom’s silent intervention. Though we’re technically adopted siblings, my sister sees herself as part-time mother as well, and she never got used to letting me be. Taking a seat between Mom and surrogate Mom, I suppress a sigh as Alsantset shifts closer, and a second sigh once the coddling begins. Sliding the giant, communal plate of pastries in front of me, she says, “Eat little brother,” her tone sweet and gentle but eyes hard and unyielding while draping a cloak over my shoulders and blowing on my cup of tea.

Pushing the plate away so I have room to rest my arms, Alsantset’s hand snaps out to make sure it stays nearby while glaring at our guests to warn them from eating any more. Dastan even goes as far as to raise his hands in surrender before catching himself, though BoShui and the others remain cool under pressure, which is to say they avert their eyes and pretend they’re not hungry. Clearing my throat to hide a laugh, I say, “Thank you sister, but lunch is soon and I don’t want to spoil my appetite.”

“Eat now and we’ll have lunch a little later.” Alsantset’s smile is so lovely, yet oh so dangerous, less disarming and more threatening. Chances are, she’ll delay lunch by five minutes and expect me to clear the table by myself, then complain about how I don’t eat enough and set Charok to cooking more.

Knowing it’s futile to argue, I pick out an egg custard tart and take a bite while my friends suffer through a coughing fit of their own. They laugh, but they don’t understand. People think I don’t give face, but Alsantset is on another level. If I don’t eat something, she will guilt me into eating, and if that doesn’t work, she’ll feed me by hand even if people are watching. She means well and is only concerned about my health, but thanks to painkillers and a shattered Core, I don’t have much of an appetite even for delicious baked goods. The flaky pastry doesn’t come without pain either, as my tongue, lips, and teeth can withstand the temperatures of the heated pastry, but not my throat, and by the time I realize it, the searing agony has around brought tears to my eyes. “Delicious.”

“Good, then I will have a fresh batch waiting for you each morning.” Eyes darting to the twins, she raises her voice and adds, “And only for you if your niece and nephew continue to shame themselves in front of our guests.”

Oh my poor sweet darlings, I’m so sorry. Your uncle Rainy wants to help, but his older sister is too scary, so you’re both on your own. I’ll protect you from everyone else though, I promise.

Nibbling away at my pastry, I make small talk and sip my tea until Alsantset looks away. Seizing the moment, I throw the rest of my tart to the bears and ask, “So what brings you all here this morning?”

“We stopped by to visit,” Wang Bao replies, which is weird because why is he answering and why do BoShui, Dastan, and Sahb look so guilty? Ulfsaar and Neera are fine, though the Voracious lives up to his name by eyeing the pastries with a covetous gaze. Worried he might pop a blood vessel from straining so hard, I grab a red bean bun I have no intention of finishing and slide the plate over. Risking Alsantset’s ire, Ulfsaar helps himself to two pastries but stops himself before grabbing a third, every bit as terrified of my older sister as anyone in their right mind would be. Dutiful wife that she is, Neera helps herself to two pastries as well and cradle both in her hands, no doubt saving the treats for her hungry hubby while beaming prettily at my sullen sister.

I missed hanging out with my soldiers. Most are a simple bunch, not exactly respectful of rules or boundaries, but decent, genuine people unlike most nobles or Martial Warriors I meet. Sadly, even XinYue and his elite soldiers are a little too stuck-up for my tastes. They treat me well and we get along great, but I can’t help but think none of them would give me the time of day if I were Average Joe instead of Falling Rain. The former bandits would rob and plunder, even kill if someone resisted, but they were happy to take anyone in so long as they could contribute. For example, before I met him, Jorani had a Core but wasn’t much of a warrior, yet the Freebooters kept him around as a scout and lookout, whereas he probably would’ve been kicked to the curb if he’d been a guard in Sanshu. It’s not exactly a high bar, but standards for basic decency are pretty low in the Azure Sea Empire.

I wonder what’s keeping Jorani and GangShu from coming back. Maybe the Abbot converted them and they’re both bald, rat-eared eunuchs now, busy flailing themselves and chanting sutras or whatever it is monks do...

Realizing my friends and soldiers have something to say but won’t say it in front of my family, I idly wonder why they don’t just Send their request over instead. After eating four halves of pastries under Alsantset’s watchful eye, I make an excuse about going to see my retinue and abandon the twins to their mother’s merciless tutelage. It’s okay, their grandma is there to look after them and I’ll make it up with toys and sweets later, but for now, I need to figure out why BoShui and Dastan are being so squirrelly. Once out the courtyard gates, I ask my Death Corps escorts to step back and turn to BoShui and Dastan. Raising an eyebrow in question, I let the silence do the talking, a difficult prospect while hobbling along on a walker.

At least Mila cleared out all the stupid fops and they haven’t come back. BoShui and Dastan would both stand up for me no doubt, but I don’t want to trouble them. Honestly, this whole thing has been blown out of proportion. Who cares about what a few idiots say? Even if nothing comes of Mila’s violent retaliation, I’m still worried about possible repercussions, and it’s way easier to tune out the peanut gallery than it is to turn off the annoying little voice in my head.

No Spectres here, just plain old anxiety which can be crippling all by itself.

...Well, it probably would be, but drugs. Woooooooo!

After a long, silent exchange with Dastan, BoShui throws his hands up in frustration and Sends, “We were hoping you could get us a meeting with your Grand-Mentor.”

“Okay, but why?”

“...I’d rather not say.” Ha, he’s blushing.

Contrary to BoShui’s statement, Dastan looks eager to speak and silently hints for me to ask so he can claim he has no choice but to answer. It feels scummy using his Oath to compel him so I don’t, but my curiosity eats away at me as I try to puzzle out what all these gathered visitors have in common. They’re all Experts, but when you throw BoShui into the mix, it means this has nothing to do with my retinue. Or maybe it does, since everyone here was Tainted at one point, not quite full on Defiled, but getting there. “Does this have something to do with what happened in the hidden cave on the secret island?” Smooth double speak there. No one will figure out what you’re talking about unless they have half a brain and an account of your history.

Maybe I should lower my dosage of painkillers. I can’t afford to be any dumber...

“No.”

“...Then why can’t you just say it?”

“...We just can’t. It’s about the Martial Path.” Realizing he’d fucked up, BoShui wishes he could take back what he said, because now I’m confused and intrigued, which means I have to know. “Truly, it’s in your best interests not to ask,” BoShui says, inadvertently stoking the flames of curiosity. “I promise it has nothing to do with you, but we need to speak with your Grand-Mentor as soon as possible.”

“Well...” Dastan hems, and BoShui shoots him a dirty look. Shrugging, Dastan continues, “I wouldn’t say it has nothing to do with the boss. Remember what Vichear said? About the beggar in Feng Huang?”

“Shit. You’re right, I didn’t even think about that.”

“Exactly. What if they don’t know?”

“But Zian said –”

“I know what he said. I was there, but this is the boss we’re talking about. There’s nothing to worry about. If you could trust Zian, then you can trust the boss.”

This is ridiculous. “Enough with all this cryptic talk. What’s going on?” Holding a hand up to forestall Dastan, I add, “That was not an order. You are not compelled to tell me, but I’d still like to know.”

Making a face because I screwed up his plan, Dastan and BoShui have another silent exchange through Sending, a longer one this time, with shifting expressions and wild gestures. It’s like they’re trying to fill the silence with exaggerated motions, which would be comical if I weren’t so impatient. Finally, after minutes of back and forth, BoShui rolls his eyes and glowers while Dastan exults in his victory and Sends, “Remember the party Fung threw after he Formed his Natal Palace? You said something then which stuck with us...”

Minutes later, all of my curiosity has been stamped out and my frail heart stressed to the point of bursting thanks to the twists and turns revealed during Dastan’s tale, one of gross misunderstanding and deliberate mental illness which resulted in a brand new Martial Path. The Dao of Accidental Success as it were, one of Natal Souls, self-acceptance, and self-love. When all is said and done, I take a seat on my walker and wonder who else knew there was more than one Falling Rain living inside my head, or if I’d erred in getting rid of Baledagh so completely. I don’t even remember the conversation which sparked all this off, no doubt lost to the haze of alcohol, so how did things get so out of control? “...You got all this from a drunken slip of the tongue?”

Me and my big drunk mouth.

“Yea,” Dastan replies, and he still has the gall to look proud about it. “So... would it be a problem if we brought this up with your Mentor?”

“No, I already told them all about my err... You know.” Baledagh, who apparently was a super advanced Natal Soul. Lamenting over the loss of Sending, I ask the Death Corps to get my rickshaw and ponder the implications while bringing everyone to see Akanai. If Baledagh was a Natal Soul, then why was he so different from all the other lifeforms I created in my Natal Palace? At one point, I had people, birds, bunnies, and whatnot populating my replica village, though I got rid of all of them because they were so creepy and lifeless. Also, how come this Natal Soul method of Domain Development is so different from mine? Hell, from what Dastan told me, his method and BoShui’s aren’t all that similar either. While they both merge with their Natal Souls and become One with the World, that’s where the similarities end. Where BoShui accepts his flaws to do so, Dastan instead embraces his hopes and dreams, which are embodied by a chibi version of himself, but somehow it results in the same thing. How does it even work?

According to Dastan, his chibi Natal Soul represents the Internal workings of Chi while his physical body represent the External, and by merging both together, he blurs the line between Internal and External to Develop a Domain. This is apparently true for BoShui as well, and worked for Sahb, Wang Bao, and Neera over the last week or so of training. Ulfsaar has yet to succeed, but everyone assumes it probably has something to do with the violent and downright antagonistic nature of his murderous Natal Soul.

As for me? Unlike what they’d hoped, I didn’t use this method to Develop my Domain, or even anything remotely close to it. I got rid... I... accepted and ‘joined’ with my Natal Soul several months before the craziness in Sinuji, but I didn’t have a ‘One with the World’ epiphany. Instead, I told the world to fuck off and carved out a piece of it for myself, seizing power where Dastan and the others were granted permission to wield it.

Does this mean the Mother is real? Was I supposed to ask for Her permission before Developing my Domain? Because the way Dastan tells it, it sounds like they were all authorized by a higher power to wield Chi in the External World, whereas I skipped the line and helped myself. Then again, maybe I didn’t need authority because I wasn’t using Chi, but rather the Heavenly Energy I’d gotten from cleansing Spectres. I processed it, so why would I need permission to use it? I really hope this is the case, because otherwise what I did was tantamount to robbery.

Or worse... Heresy... Am I a heretic? Should I be purged?

Calm down Rain. Just calm down. I mean, sure you forced your will upon Heavenly Energy, but how is it any different from using a windmill or waterwheel? You didn’t commit any unspeakable crimes, you leveraged the laws of nature. Or magic. Or Chi, whatever. Who says you need approval to Develop a Domain? This isn’t real estate, we don’t need any permits or mandates from Heaven or any of that nonsense. If it’s wrong, but it works, then it’s not wrong, just... different.

Feeling better after rationalizing away all the panic and religious overtones, I calm my nerves and reinforce the belief that everyone forges their own Martial Path, so I should stick to mine, a sentiment Akanai vehemently shares after I explain why my friends need to speak with her alone and under a sound barrier. “Fool,” she growls, looming overhead in a dark fury. “You should not meddle in matters you do not understand. Martial Warriors do not discuss the Path lightly, because even a minor misunderstanding can lead someone down a dead-end fork.”

“I know, but –”

“No buts. Away with you. Go about your day and forget you ever had this conversation while I deal with these idiots.”

“I can’t.” Standing tall against her barely restrained fury, I explain, “I’ve already heard this much, and I have questions, questions which need answering. Otherwise, I’m just going to obsess over them until I drive myself crazy.”

“Which is exactly why you should have never discussed this in the first place!” Delivering a scathing glare towards my friends and subordinates, I can see Akanai weighing their existence against my future Martial Path, and I truly believe that if I wasn’t crippled, she would make all six of them disappear just so I can’t question them.

Hobbling over to stand with them, I draw myself up to full height and try not to shrink back from Akanai’s glare. “The rice is cooked, Grand-Mentor. I’ve already heard what they had to say, so what’s the harm in hearing more?”

After a long period of deliberation, Akanai say, “They cannot hear you anymore, so tell me what questions would you ask of them?”

Ah right. The dangers of discussion goes both ways. Selfish of me not to consider it. “Well... off the top of my head, I want to know if any of them manifested their Natal Palace in the world, along with their Domains. They never mention it, but isn’t that what a Domain is?” I distinctly remember seeing my carved wooden ceiling take shape in the real world, and I’ve told Akanai as much.

“Yes, but they must realize this on their own.” Faltering before my wide-eyed, inquisitive stare, Akanai sighs and massages her forehead. “You’ve touched upon some of the truth. Core Formation, Aura Condensation, and Natal Palace Formation all have a part in Domain Development, like pieces of a puzzle coming together to form a whole. Do not dwell on it for now, focus on getting better first and the rest will come naturally. Next question.”

Going through all the questions I came up with on the trip over, Akanai dismisses them one after another for either being nonsensical, irrelevant, based on an erroneous premise, or unable to be answered. Everyone’s Path is different, though some are more different than others, and she refuses to tell me how different mine is, or get into a theological discussion regarding the existence of the Mother. In her words, religious debate could infringe upon her Martial Path, because it is the linchpin to everything she’s built upon. The Mother must be real, or else Akanai’s Martial Strength is built on a lie, so she will not even entertain the possibility that she might be wrong.

Self confidence is kinda a big thing for Martial Warriors, which makes me wonder how I ever got as strong as I did...

Even after an in-depth debate, Akanai still refuses to let me sit in on her discussion with the others, and she even intends to interrogate them one by one to better understand what Dastan calls a ‘simple method for Natal Palace Formation and Domain Development’. Honestly, doesn’t really seem all that simple, or else I’d have more Experts in my retinue since Dastan blabbed about it to everyone who would listen. Five successes are a start, but Akanai says it could be decades before we know if this is truly a viable Path to the Martial Peak. Even if they all fail to reach the Peak, it doesn’t mean the Natal Soul Path isn’t viable, because hard work doesn’t guarantee success and luck is always a factor.

While standing to leave, I remember something important and say, “Oh yea... I don’t think it was a Natal Soul, but Mahakala and Pong Pong both had Spiritual Representations of themselves inside their Natal Palaces, same with Bei and Yo Ling. Does everyone have one? If so, what makes it different from a Natal Soul?”

Brow furrowed in confusion, Akanai asks, “Who?”

“Mahakala. The Monk. Am I saying his name wrong?”

“...Did you not swear an Oath never to reveal his name?”

Oh fuck. Wait. “No no no, I swore an Oath to keep the Brotherhood’s Defiled roots a secret, but not sharing his name was more of a courtesy thing, so...” Akanai’s eyes widen in alarm and as I realize what I just said, the blood drains from my face and I curse myself for a fool.

What a fucking way to go out, slain by the Heavens over a slip of the tongue.

...

......

Wait a minute...

“Uh... Grand-Mentor, why am I not dead?”

Chapter Meme

Chapter Meme 2