Savage Divinity

While all hell breaks loose around me, I sit in shocked silence and stare at my hands in confusion, wondering how in the hell am I still alive.

Covered in various nicks, cuts and punctures from daily life, my scabby, bony fingers are so weak they can barely bruise an apple, yet I somehow stopped a high speed Water Lance hurtling towards me with my bare hands. The attack hit and water sprayed, but the impact was lighter than a breeze, so imperceptible I thought I was standing behind an invisible barrier which blocked the attack for me. The barrier wasn’t temporary either, because while Zabu got drenched in Water Chi which quickly evaporated away into Heavenly Energy, I remained entirely untouched by the resulting splatter.

...

...

...

But how?

Was it a hidden Peak Expert? One of Nian Zu’s men, or the Colonel General himself? If so, why wait until the last microsecond to save me? Or why not kill Pudge before the Defiled gain an unassailable foothold on the wall? Maybe my hidden guardian is a Concealed Divinity, but if that’s the case, then why would Ghurda be so worried about my safety? Even now, whilst locked in mortal combat with Pudge, she’s Sending orders at me to retreat from the outer wall, so either she doesn’t know I have a guardian, she knows my guardian was injured by the Water Lance, or I don’t have a guardian and she thinks I blocked the Water Lance myself.

...Do I have a Domain? I don’t think I have one. I mean... I don’t see it. I don’t feel it. Today is just like yesterday, no better, no worse.

“Move!” Dastan bellows, and my mind snaps back to the present as Zabu leaps into action. Arms wrapped around my waist, Song sits behind me and guides the quin to safety while Dastan and Sahb face off against a second Demon, a bestial creature of tusk and horn which looks like a cross between a walrus and a hippo. Yet another Demon emerges in front of me, a gangly, bark-skinned humanoid with arms shaped like saw-tooth sabers, the deadly, serrated weapons already in mid-swing and aimed towards my waist. With a sharp turn, Zabu leaps off the outer wall to avoid the sweeping attack which would’ve bisected man, woman, and quin alike, and after soaring across the eight-meter chasm with ease, my grouchy quin lands on the middle wall with hackles raised, talons ready, and teeth bared at the Imperial soldiers ringed around him, intelligent enough to recognize them as allies yet savvy enough to sense their less-than-friendly intentions.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, these so-called allies bar our path instead of making room for me to retreat, with the sturdy planks meant to be used as bridges to cross the walls laying unused at the back and leaving my people trapped like rats in a bag. “Falling Rain,” a familiar face begins, though it takes a second to place him. It’s Watanabe’s mouthpiece, and seeing as how he’s standing behind the group of borderline-hostile Imperials and not fighting on the outer wall, I guess he called my earlier bluff. “Commander Watanabe’s orders are to hold position until otherwise instructed,” the mouthpiece says, his lip curled in unrestrained disgust. “Return to your post with your followers or you will be charged with dereliction of duty and cowardice in battle.”

“You’re one to talk. Shouldn’t you be there too?” Voice calm and steady despite all the stress and confusion, I narrow my eyes and add, “You saw it yourself. I’m only here because circumstances forced me, but now that I’m here, I’ve a few questions to ask. Why have the bridges not been deployed? There are three Demons already on the outer wall and we cannot hold it for long. Battlefield procedure dictates the wounded and rank and file are to retreat first so as to not get in the way of the Experts.”

“It is not your place to decide when to fight and when to retreat, private,” Watanabe’s mouthpiece replies, drawing his weapon for effect. “Return to your post now, or die where you stand.”

Instead of glaring at the mouthpiece, I turn my gaze to the soldiers blocking our retreat. Some put on a brave face while others scowl and glower at my presumed cowardice, but most avoid my gaze to stare down at their boots or up at the sky, anywhere besides looking at me or the poor souls standing across from them who’ve been left trapped in place while other soldiers from other retinues are already in full retreat. It’s clear to everyone involved this is a ploy to get me and my people killed, but there’s little a sympathetic soldier can do besides obey orders, and without Nian Zu around to countermand Watanabe’s instructions, I’ve no choice but to do the same. I guess I’ve been played. I was told my people would be posted on the walls too, but thus far, there has yet to be a single arrow or bolt loosed which didn’t come from a Bannerman. At least my portable catapults are being put to good use, launching heavy stones over the walls into the Defiled masses, but it’s nowhere near enough to make a difference.

Without another word, I turn Zabu around and hop down into the empty corridor between the walls, because even the most athletic quin can’t jump across several meters with two riders and no running start. Immediately wishing I’d looked first, I let Zabu take the lead as he dodges away from an errant swipe of Walrus-Hippo’s tusks, the girthy Demon having been forced off the wall and kept in check by three Bannermen led by Tenjin. Scrambling back up the outer wall, Zabu pushes past Masahige’s soldiers only to be greeted by Pudge’s hulking form standing not two meters away while Ghurda and Mengu desperately fight to hold him back. To the left stands Kuang Biao exchanging blows with Barky Sabre-Arms in a symphony of steel and skill, their blades singing as they cut through the air faster than my eyes can follow. On the right, Tursinai and her Mentor square off against a Demon each, whirling chain and nine-section staff doing wonders to tie the formidable creatures down while Kharnate and Khagati provide support with axe and spear. Most courageous of all, Dastan and his people stand with Runic Shields raised and ready, guarding not only me, but everyone still stuck behind them, though their valiant efforts are not very effective.

“Stand firm, Warriors of Sinuji,” I yell, even as a thick Water Tendril pulps one of my people beside us. Tarsov, I think it was, the poor bastard. No amount of stitches or bandages will save him this time around, but he isn’t the first to die and he won’t be the last, so it’s best to mourn later. “Stand firm!”

The soldiers rally around me, but only because they have no other choice. Even as the words leave my lips, a second Tendril lashes out towards me and I flinch as it lands, but the attack dissipates into a spray of Water Chi upon contact and leaves my heart pounding in fright. Here I sit dry, unharmed, and butt-hole clenched for the second time today, while Zabu and Song are both thoroughly soaked, leaving me utterly perplexed as to what’s going on. Why does this keep happening? How is it even possible? I’m not doing anything, at least not consciously, but I’d like to. Domain is all about Emotion and Intent, right? Well I’ve got a belly full of fear, anger, and frustration which covers Emotion, and a pressing need to get rid of all these Demons which should do for Intent.

Steeling my nerves as I reach for Balance, the expected surge of pain courses throughout every inch of my body, but I stifle my screams and continue onwards with my desperate search for power. Feeding my rage and hatred to the shattered void, I search for that familiar feeling of warmth and tranquility, but despite all my efforts, emptiness is all that greets me. There must be something left, some latent scraps of Heavenly Energy with which I can still use to defend myself with, so I continue my fruitless endeavours without care for the consequences. We’re in this mess because of me, so I need to do something to fix it before more people die to keep me safe. The Bannermen, Dastan and his retinue, Masahige and his soldiers, all of them deserve a better end than this, left out to die by the allies behind them. Hell, if we go a little further back, you could even say it’s my fault Pudge even exists in the first place. If I had killed that Defiled tribesman outright instead of gawking at him like an idiot, he wouldn’t have surrendered to the Spectres and become this waterlogged monstrosity before me.

I got us into this mess, and it would seem I have the ability to get us out. Sounds arrogant, but if I’m capable of wielding Heavenly Energy, then it’s the truth. So many people call it the power of Creation, but it’s always easier to destroy, and today, destruction is my Intent.

Cutting through the inferno of constant torment comes the metallic tang of blood, seeping into perception to warn me that my lips are bleeding. Taking a deep breathe to pull my teeth out from pierced lip, the pain melts away into the sea of agony which has become my existence, for such is life, a miserable and wretched affair in which we struggle through trials and tribulations without end. I won’t give up though, because I can’t give up, not while people are fighting desperately to keep me alive, not when I know I could end this all in an instant. The answer must be here, lurking in the darkest recesses of my subconscious, because there’s no other way to explain all these recent revelations. My telescopic eyesight, my accidental Oration, my toughened skin and indomitable defences, what other answer could there be? I’m unintentionally using Heavenly Energy, so now I need to consciously use it to kill every last Demon and Defiled in Sinuji.

...

But why stop there? Nothing would change, not in the long run. Sure, a million Defiled, a few dozen Demons, and Not-Gen would all be dead, but I’d still have the Legate and Yang Jixing breathing down my neck, playing their games of politics while good men and women die to keep them safe. I’d still be subject to the orders of a cretin like Watanabe, a worthless, cowardly idiot doing everything in his power to get me killed. Hell, I might even be blamed for not taking action sooner and accused of faking my injuries or hiding my recovery so I can avoid contributing to the war effort. No doubt most of Sinuji already thinks as much after my Orated speech before the battle began, believing me to be an idle shirker who faked being a cripple for all the non-existent sympathy.

I should just kill them all, every last person unrelated to me, leave no witnesses, Imperial or Defiled alike. Better yet, I should just leave, bring everyone I care about away from Sinuji and let Watanabe deal with the rest. Who could stop me? Why should I care if these ingrates die? Hell, why should I care about the war effort at all? The Imperial Clan certainly doesn’t, hiding away in the Eastern Province to play their piddling games of politics. I could be home today, and all my family with me if I so desired it, all with a wave of my hand. Divinity, true Divinity, is within my grasp, for once I master the use of Heavenly Energy, I would be a god among mortals. Even Ancestral Beasts would no longer be a threat anymore, because they’re nothing more than pretenders to the title, false Divinities who once touched upon the Energy of the Heavens, and never succeeded again. The so-called human Divinities are even less of a concern, charlatans who have never known Divinity but believe themselves worthy of the title out of foolish pride and wilful ignorance.

They can’t stop me. No one can. I only need to reach out and claim power for my own, mould the Energy of the Heavens into a weapon to use against my enemies, and then I will be master of my own fate once more, free to wreak havoc on those who have wronged me and –

With a meaty backhand, Pudge smashes Ghurda out of the way and charges ahead, his fat, waterlogged fingers growing larger in my sight until the impact takes my breath away. Ribs crack as the air is driven out of my lungs, and the night’s sky rushes away as I plummet to the ground, then the pain mercifully gives way to oblivion.

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

Having already failed to save his friend and master twice today, Dastan was adamant not to let it happen a third time.

When the Water-Blessed Demon launched its attack, Dastan’s axe was already raised to respond. Beseeching the Mother to guide his hand, Dastan Reinforced his body to it’s utmost limits and moved faster than he ever believed possible thanks to sheer desperation, because whatever Elemental Barrier Rain had in place defending him, there was no guarantee it could stop a full strength-punch from the massive, powerful Pudge. One with the Self and One with the World, his Domain materialized into existence to coat his body and weapon, marking out the borders within which his will held true. With this authority bestowed upon him by the Heaven’s themselves, Dastan meant to take Pudge’s arm off at the elbow before the attack claimed Falling Rain’s life, for he willed it, and the Heavens would make it so. Chi gathered upon his axe-blade and Honed it to perfection as it descended from on high, the edge carving through air and atmosphere with a resounding clap before even reaching the Demon’s broad, muscled arm. Sodden skin and spongy flesh gave way to steel and Domain as Dastan put his supposed Talent to good use, expending a fifth of his Chi reserves in a single attack to Cut clean through the Demon’s thick, meaty arm.

Finally. He succeeded. Falling Rain was safe and unharmed thanks to Dastan’s efforts. Having practised this a thousand times within his Natal Palace, his training took over as he Deflected the Ichor towards the ground where the caustic fluid sizzled and steamed, eating away at the rammed-earth structure to leave blackened scars and bubbling froth aplenty, though the distinct lack of Demonic screeching left him a little disheartened. Beaming in pride from his remarkable accomplishment, he made sure Ghurda and her portly comrade had the one-armed Pudge under control before turning to check on Rain, only for his smile to melt away as he came face to face with an empty area where quin, man, and woman once sat.

Following the gawking soldiers, Dastan rushed to the edge of the wall and peered over to find Rain and Li Song laid out flat in the dirt, with Pudge’s hefty, severed arm strewn over top them and an angry Zabu getting back to his feet whilst chittering up an angry storm. Cursing himself for a fool, Dastan leaped down and Sahb followed shortly behind with the last six members of their doomed retinue. The rest were all dead, with too many slain in this battle alone, because while his people were all seasoned veterans, even Experts like Dastan were but lambs waiting for slaughter in a battle between Demons and Peak Experts.

They were in a better place now, resting in the warm embrace of the Mother, and if things worked out as he expected, he would soon be reunited with them again, if only to say farewell before re-entering the cycle of reincarnation.

Leaving Sahb and the others to watch his back, Dastan grabbed the meaty Demon arm in both hands and lifted with all his might, but to his surprise, the sizable limb weighed almost nothing despite being as thick as his waist. Flailing beneath the unexpectedly light burden, he panicked and darted away to keep from pouring Ichor all over Rain, Li Song, or the fearsome, scarred Zabu. Especially the quin, because at least the other two were unconscious and would later understand; the quin was liable to tear him apart, and seeing how much Rain loved the beast, Dastan would probably have to let it.

Then again, having seen the sweeter, kinder quin Mafu chew through solid steel armour like paper, Dastan wasn’t sure if his resistance would make any difference against an enraged, battle-trained Zabu.

Staggering backwards with haste to avoid the worst case scenario, Dastan came to crashing halt as his back slammed against the wall. The impact drove the air from his lungs, but to make matters worse, he also squeezed the severed limb in reflex and it burst apart against his chest, showering him in a spray of rancid vitriol and soggy, gooey bits of Demonic flesh. Gagging from the fetid stench, he panicked and flung what remained of the limb to the ground, yet another mistake as he watched the mushy remains splash against the dirt, a thick, grey-white goo which glistened in the torchlight like a half-eaten meal left to rot away in the rain.

The next thing he knew, Camsul, Saida, and Sahb were buffeting him from all sides, slapping and scraping in a frenzied effort to clear away the caustic Ichor, using their bare hands no less, not even slowing to protect themselves with gloves, sleeves, or handkerchiefs. These were his comrades, friends and warriors he was proud to fight and die beside, so he accepted their rough ministrations with a hint of pride.

“Hang on.” No one paid any heed to Balta’s appeal, for Ichor worked too quickly to allow hesitation, but the gentle giant took Saida by the arm and forcibly pried her away before gently pushing Sahb back. “There’s no Ichor,” Balta said, wisely leaving the jumpy Camsul untouched while he pointed out what everyone else missed. “There’s... goop aplenty, but no Ichor. He ain’t burned.”

Looking at his hands and torso, Dastan discovered the big man was right. Though covered almost head to toe in rotted, Demonic remains, there was no pain nor any of the greenish-yellow caustic Ichor to be found, either on him or inside the severed limb itself. How was this possible? He distinctly remembered the shower of Ichor which came spraying out after he Severed the arm, and he even had to Deflect most of it away, so how was there none left now?

“Figure it out later.” Startled by the unfamiliar Sending, Dastan leapt to the alert and his people followed suit, moving to surround Rain and Li Song with weapons at the ready. “Quit gawking around and get a move on,” the Concealed Expert Sent, his voice gruff and impatient. “Bring the foundling back up where we can keep an eye on him. The Banner won’t hold for much longer without support and I will not leave them to die.”

Whoever this Concealed Expert was, Dastan didn’t like him much, a man who already failed to protect Rain thrice now and still had the gall to criticize others. Grumbling beneath his breath, he tasked Saida to carry Li Song and carried Rain himself, lifting his too-thin friend into his arms and grunting beneath the weight. Why was he so heavy? Rain almost weighed as much as a regular, healthy soldier despite being half the size, if that, though it was still no real burden for a trained Martial Warrior, so much like the mystery of the severed arm and missing Ichor, this puzzle would have to wait. Using Zabu as a step-stool earned Dastan the cantankerous beast’s ire as it chittered and squeaked in fury, while Saida wisely asked Balta and Sahb for help instead, using their raised Runic Shields as a platform to get back onto the wall. Camsul and the others were right behind them, and just in time too, for the bestial Demon soon returned in full force to thunder down the empty corridor, bucking, kicking, and smashing into the walls in a desperate effort to dislodge Fire-Bird Tenjin from its back.

Ignoring the intense battle going on below and beside him, Dastan gave Rain a quick once over to check for injuries, but there were none to be found, no bruise, fracture, or even a speck of blood. Though delighted by this good fortune, further scrutiny left Dastan feeling uneasy, because Li Song had obviously sustained a concussion from her tumble off the wall despite being in perfectly good health. Even if she’d shielded Rain during the fall, there was still the matter of Pudge’s arms striking them both head on. While it weighed almost nothing when Dastan went to lift it, it couldn’t have been that light to begin with else it wouldn’t have knocked Zabu off of the wall. Quins were many things, but easily moved was not one of them, which meant the severed arm had to have significant force behind it to move such a sturdy and ferocious beast.

So why didn’t the impact or the fall break any of Rain’s bones? And if he was uninjured, why was he unconscious?

“This is Colonel General Nian Zu of the North, taking temporary command over Sinuji and ordering all soldiers on the outer wall to fall back. I repeat...”

Letting loose with a sigh of relief, Dastan thanked the Heavens for small favours as the Living Legend finally took control. For a moment, he worried the soldiers behind them would refuse to obey, but even as Watanabe’s mouthpiece glared and glowered in silence, other loyal soldiers on the middle wall were already moving the planks into place, eager to do away with these corrupt games of politics and save their beleaguered allies. Cradling the unconscious Rain, Dastan Lightened himself as much as he could before sprinting across the plank, offering a grim smile and nod of thanks to the good soldiers who aided them. To his surprise, many nodded back and a some even saluted towards him, undoubtedly a show of respect and admiration for the warrior carried in Dastan’s arms, because whether you liked him or not, no one could deny that Falling Rain was a man worthy of both.

Eager to get Rain back to a Healer, Dastan sprinted ahead with Zabu at his side, but as he set foot on the inner wall, a tumultuous commotion caused him to stop and turn around. There Dastan stood, only meters away from the courtyard and safety, frozen in horror as the outer wall crumbled apart. Hundreds of soldiers, perhaps even thousands fell with the outer wall, their dread and terror clear to anyone with eyes as the rammed earth battlements collapsed beneath their boots, and Dastan could do naught but watch.

And then, with yet another earth shaking rumble, the middle wall began to collapse too, and Dastan could watch no longer.

Panic flooded through his veins as he fled away into the courtyard, sprinting as quickly as he could without conserving Chi at all, for behind the crumbling walls of Sinuji, he’d seen the Defiled cavalry off in the distance, moving towards the fort to deal its defenders a crippling death blow. Sinuji was doomed, this much was clear now, the remaining walls nothing more than a cage for the soldiers still inside, but Dastan could not die just yet.

Not before getting Rain away to safety, for the Mother’s Chosen Son must live to fight another day.

Chapter Meme