Savage Divinity

I, Falling Rain, am a complete and utter mess.

It’s no big secret. I’ve been one all my life, but most people probably figured I would eventually get my shit together and graduate from ineptitude as most youths do. Unfortunately, what they don’t know is I’m not as young as I look. Physically, I barely look my age, but mentally? I must be at least forty now, or if not close to it, and you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. I’m a middle-aged idiot who’s set in my ways, and if I haven’t learned a basic life lesson by now, there’s a good chance I’ll never figure it out. While a lack of wisdom is expected from the inexperienced youths of today, it is a cardinal sin amongst older, seasoned hands, which makes me the greatest sinner of them all.

Mila, my beautiful and confident betrothed gave me one job, show up on the date of our wedding, and even then I still would’ve fucked it up. Yea, the wording threw me off a bit, and my trip from the frozen North to balmy Central gave me the wrong impression that the Spring Equinox was the middle of spring, but that’s no excuse considering Mila told me the exact date. She loves me so much, not only is she willing to accept me even as I am, she’s even willing to share me with four other women, while I can’t be bothered to remember the date of our wedding. Good job buddy. She set the bar so low, yet even then you managed to defy the odds and limbo right underneath it. Well done. Way to show her how much you care.

You don’t deserve Mila, or anyone else for that matter, not even the rabbit sleeping in your arms or the wildcat curled up around your feet. Almost everyone you’ve met and cared about would’ve been better off without you, because you’re a worthless, heartless, faithless asshole who’s too wrapped up in his own thoughts to pay attention to the people who love him.

You should’ve never crawled out of that corpse pile all those years ago. That’s where you belong. Abandoned and forgotten, with nothing of worth lost.

...

There are times when my inner self-loathing takes things too far, but tonight is not one of those nights. Although Mila is easily placated with an earnest apology and a series of kisses, I am not ready to let myself off the hook. I almost made her cry because I forgot our wedding date, which just goes to show how much I care. No amount of apologies will ever take away her pain from that moment, pain I caused with my careless indifference to what should be an important milestone in my life. It’s my wedding, for fucks sake. Why am I not excited about it? Why hasn’t it been more than a footnote in my mind? I’ve been treating it as a social obligation, an event to grace with my presence when it should instead be a defining moment in my life, and that is utterly unforgivable.

And to make matters worse? I’m not upset our wedding was delayed. I’m relieved, and not because she snapped her steel restraints like they were made of wax. I’m relieved because I don’t deserve Mila, and I never will, so as long as we’re not married, she’ll always have the chance to walk away from her mistake.

Standing outside the manor gates, I stare off into the distance where I last saw my sweet, fiery betrothed heading home with her loving family. The minutes tick by as I imagine what life would be like if I had the nerve to just walk away and disappear into the night. I could head west and blend in with the soldiers streaming towards the front lines, join up with a loose band of soldiers and find myself a proper end at the hands of the Defiled. Mila would hate me for leaving like that, and so would everyone else, but they’d all be better off for it in the end. She won’t have problems finding a new husband, someone who’ll treat her right and remember things like wedding dates and various equinoxes, while Yan would probably do the same, but not before leaving a trail of broken hearts and spurned lovers throughout all of Central. It’d be tricky to get away from Song on account of her Oaths, but it’s not like she’ll instantly drop dead once she realizes I’m not within five kilometres of her. It’ll be a tough few days for her as she and the Death Corps scramble to find me, but she’ll probably clap for joy once she’s finally free of my influence, and she’d be right to. It’s only a matter of time before I succumb to my inner desires and do something monstrous, so the further she is from me, the safer she’ll be. Luo-Luo will probably kick up a fuss, but even though I’m willing to abandon her alongside the rest of my life, my family won’t do the same. They’ve already accepted her as one of the People and they’ll treat her as such, with Alsantset taking her in as a little sister or maybe a second wife for Charok, so I won’t have to worry about Luo-Luo. She’s nothing if not adaptable.

Then there’s Lin-Lin, who might be the hardest person to walk away from, and also the person who needs to get away from me the most. I can barely remember a time when she hasn’t been in my life, and that is both a comfort and a curse. She was ten years old when I first met her, and while she’s since blossomed into a bright and cheery young woman, I can’t help but sometimes lie awake at night and wonder just how much my influence has shaped her. Sure, there’s nothing weird about two kids growing up to become childhood sweethearts, but I was never a kid. I was a grown-ass man hiding in a kid’s body, and if anyone knew the truth, they would take Lin-Lin as far away from me as possible, if not just outright cut my throat and be done with it. I wouldn’t put up a fight either, because it’s creepy as fuck when you think about it. I was an adult grooming a sweet child into his ideal partner, even if I never consciously meant to.

In short, if everyone knew who I really was, they would abandon me in a heartbeat. If that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve their love, then I don’t know what does.

Depression sucks, but it sucks even more when you have an actual legitimate reason to be depressed. It’s a cruel and twisted joke of fate. The more happiness I have, the more I have to lose, the mere thought of which is enough to keep me awake for days without end. And Monk Happy wonders how I live without faith. If he were in my shoes, he’d be the same. What merciful god would condone such a cruel and sadistic existence? Fuck you, Mother Above. You’re a cold, heartless bitch.

...But if you are real, please forgive me for my insolence and fix everything real quick. K thanks, love you, bye.

Tired of waiting around, Mama Bun rears up on her hind legs and paws at my thigh, making soft grunting snuffles all the while. On the other side, Aurie sits sloppily with one leg splayed out and his torso wrapped around my leg, all so he can arch his head back and study my upside-down expression with curious concern. Mouth opening to smile as he catches my attention, he rests his head against my hip and blinks ever so slowly, a sign of trust and affection amongst predatory cats, or so I’ve heard. Unable to eke out a smile for my sweet kitten, I close my eyes and pet his head to show I love and trust him too. Taking a long pause to clear my thoughts, I let the weight of my worries settle onto my shoulders and mentally adjust myself to bear them, then open my eyes and pick up Mama Bun before her digging claws tear a hole through my pants.

That’s how it is now. You take that dread and misery and push it all down, then go about your day as if everything is okay.

Coddling my sweet bunny close like a giant baby, I almost smile as she leans back in my embrace with a monstrous yawn, as happy and content as any living creature can be. The other rabbits don’t like lying on their backs, and I’ve never seen Mama Bun do it on her own, but I accidentally discovered she loves being carried like this during a long ride somewhere. One moment she was sleeping normally, with her paws pressed against my chest and chin resting on my shoulder, then the next she flopped over and decided it’d be more comfortable like this. Now she barely lets an hour go by without demanding to be cradled and I’m always happy to oblige no matter how tired my arms may be.

Sometimes, I envy how simple animals have it. All Mama Bun wants is food in her belly and warm cuddles from her human. That’s it. She has no demands beyond that, no requirements which need fulfilling, just food, love, and nothing else. She doesn’t lie awake at night thinking about her past mistakes, or wonder what her life would’ve been like if she’d made different decisions along the way. She doesn’t worry about being hunted by predators or finding food for tomorrow, she doesn’t question why nature can be so cruel or if there’s a higher power watching over her from above. When times are good, she revels in life, and when they’re bad, she grumbles and endures, and that’s all there is to it.

Is this One with the Self? One with the World? Maybe that’s why animals use Chi so easily, because they are so in tune with their inner nature, though I’m still unsure where faith fits into all this when animals are concerned. Following one’s inner desires has its drawbacks of course, the most obvious of which is sometimes, said nature stalls progress. With Kukku, it keeps him from flying because he instinctively believes he can’t fly, and while Mama Bun is supposedly older than most trees, she’s just as sweet and innocent as her little bunny babies. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a smart bunny, smarter than most animals in fact, having learned dozens of tricks and commands like ‘come’, ‘sit’, ‘wave’, and ‘stay’. She can recognize people and places she’s familiar with, knows where she can and can’t dig, and even knows who to approach for treats and who to leave alone, but that’s about it. I’ve tried teaching her to count like I taught Pong Pong, but that didn’t work out. She can’t figure out the magic cup game either, which is weird because she can sniff out a Spiritual Plant from kilometres away, so there’s no way she can’t sniff out which cup her treats are under. Still, no matter how many times I try it, she just knocks over the cups one by one until she finds her prize, and is unwilling to play the right way.

Jimjam and Sarankho picked up the game almost instantly, while Aurie took a little longer to catch on, so I don’t think it’s a matter of intelligence, but rather innate instinct. Mama Bun is a herbivore, so she doesn’t understand the concept of food moving around, but the wildcats do. By all reports, this is exactly how I behaved in Sinuji while fighting against Wraiths and Demons, like a natural predator in front of his prey, so the question becomes: where do my instincts and limitations lie?

Given my predatory persona’s fixed interest in Demonic Ichor, dying Wraiths, the Runes on Song’s armour, Ping Ping, and Kukku the rooster, it's not a stretch to assume my powerful but primitive persona is interested in finding a source of Heavenly Energy. I wanted to Devour, but I couldn’t, not straight from the air like I used to, so I was trying to get Heavenly Energy by any other means. The Runes were a bust, and Monk Happy wouldn’t let me torture Wraiths to turn into Demons, so I went after Kukku. I’m not sure if I wanted his physical flesh, his Spiritual Heart, or something else altogether, but I thank the Heavens I left Ping Ping untouched and sought what I needed elsewhere.

At least now I know I inherently value floof over sex, or at least sex with Luo-Luo, which is good, because I would never be able to live it down if I ravaged her on an open field while soldiers were fighting and dying a stones throw away.

Having thought things through, I’ve long since decided it’d be best if I didn’t rely too heavily on this instinctive state of Balance to solve all my problems. Predator me wasn’t interested in solutions, but substitutions, meaning my instinctive mindset isn’t to fix what’s wrong with myself, namely my shattered Core, but to make up for my deficiencies through other means, like eating the giant cowardly rooster. While I didn’t kill and eat Ping Ping or Kukku back in Sinuji, who’s to say I’ll make the same choice the second time around, or the third? What if I kill Ping Ping, Pong Pong, Mama Bun, or someone else’s Spiritual Beast the next time I lose control? Or worse, what if I do something which brands me as Defiled, like eat human flesh or arrange severed heads into an altar of sorts? I don’t know why the Defiled do what they do, but there has to be a reason, right?

It’s not all bad. At least the whole debacle confirmed my suspicions that eating Spiritual Herbs and Spiritual Beasts will help me recover. The Legate’s tofu pudding was probably made from Spiritual Soy Beans, or some other fancy, Heavenly herbs and stuff, so as long as Taduk can get his Spiritual Plant farm up and running with help from Pong Pong’s poop, I’ll have a constant supply of Heavenly Energy to keep myself from reverting back into a frail cripple. That’s great news, but it’s a big ‘if’, so I shouldn’t rest easy just yet, but if anyone can do it, it’d be my goofy, yet brilliant teacher.

More good fortune I don’t deserve. A single Spiritual Plant farm might not be much, but if properly scaled, the knowledge could eventually go on to save millions of lives, whether it be through direct means of easily accessible miraculous medicines or the vast sums of gold nobles would be willing to shell out for said Spiritual Plants. Doesn’t matter though, because I’ll be devouring all the fruits of Taduk’s labour instead of using it to better humanity as a whole, which has been my Medical Saint of a teacher’s dream for Mother knows how long...

Aurie’s plaintive mewl brings me out of my thoughts and my heart breaks once more, because it’s yet another reminder of how I bring nothing but hardship and suffering to those I love. “Sorry sweet kitten,” I croon, dropping down to touch foreheads with the patient and lovable wildcat. “You sleepy? C’mon, I’ll go brood on the couch.”

Given the lack of electric lighting, everyone usually goes to bed soon after sunset and wakes just in time for sunrise, but I’ve never gotten into the habit of going to sleep right after dinner. Instead, I usually take this time to study or mope, but it appears Mom and Dad have other plans for tonight. Already waiting with lit candles in the living room, they sit cuddled up together on the couch, but shift apart and gesture for me to join them as soon as I step through the door. Declining with a shake of my head, I quip, “Don’t let me get in the way of your romantic star-gazing.” My smile is only half fake, because even as depressed as I am, I can’t help but be happy to see this display of true love. Mom looks ten to twenty years older than Dad’s thirty-something appearance, but they still look picture perfect when they’re together, their fingers still interlocked even after making room for their idiot son. “I’ll just head off to my room and sleep.”

“Nonsense,” Mom snorts, fixing me with a stare that stops me in place. “Come sit with your parents. We would have words with you.” Ah. So they were waiting for me. “Besides,” she continues, her stern glare melting into a knowing smirk, “No need to worry about the time, there are still some hours yet before your midnight visitor comes a knocking.”

It’s impossible to keep a secret in a manor full of Martial Warriors, but everyone is usually polite enough to pretend Yan isn’t visiting every night. Between Mom and Dad, Alsantset and Charok, and Yan and myself, it’s a wonder that anyone gets any sleep at all, but I suppose we all adapt eventually. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, I suppress the urge to lie or make excuses and simply take a seat on the couch while inwardly wishing I didn’t hate social interaction so much. Mom and Dad love me, so talking to them shouldn’t be a chore, but it feels like one sometimes. Smiling as Mom slides a giant floor cushion in front of us for Aurie to lie on, we all settle in together as naturally as breathing. Mom arranges a blanket over our knees and Dad presses his cheek against my head, holding me close before ever so gently shifting me over into a similar embrace with Mom.

I suppose not all social interaction is bad, and human cuddles are nice too.

Long minutes pass in relative silence, and as I feel myself slipping away into comfortable sleep while nestled in the arms of my loving parents, my brain compels me to ruin this snug and comfy setting. “So what did you want to talk about?”

“This morning, you said you had questions,” Dad replies, his voice deep and reassuring. “Ask, and we will do our best to answer them.”

“Mind you,” Mom interjects, tweaking my nose lightly in good humour, “If you ask something we believe best discovered on your own, we will tell you as much and no more. You might not hold much stock in the Mother Above, but we still believe She will provide.” Hugging me tight with a contented sigh, she adds, “After all, did She not bring you to us?”

Doing my best not to sigh or scoff, I do what I can to return the hug while still cradling Mama Bun in my arms. “I’ll take whatever answers I can get,” I reply with a smile, but as I wrack my brain for proper questions regarding the Martial Dao, it all seems so inconsequential in this moment right now. It’s nice sitting here with my parents to share out warmth and affection, because while we were never what you’d call a traditional family, I will never doubt the depths of their love for me and can only pray I’m able to return even a tenth of it to match.

That’s not my fault. They just love me so much, it’s gone beyond mortal limits, and I for one could not be more grateful.

Focus Rain. Questions. What do you want to ask? How do animals have faith? No, that’s just nitpicking because then you’ll get into a long and drawn out debate regarding faith, confidence, and beneficial ignorance. Besides, they probably don’t have an answer anyways, so pick something they can help with. Why do animals turn into Ancestral Beasts? Same issue as before, and no one really knows. How is a Core Created? Again, largely theological and hypothetical, because we lack the tools to understand it in whole. C’mon man, you spend all your time lost in your own thoughts wondering about the Martial Dao, and now you can’t even come up with a single question?

“One with the Weapon,” I say, unconsciously glancing towards my room where the ruins of Peace, Tranquility, and Unity hang on the walls. “One with the World. Now we potentially can add One with the Self, so are there any more ‘Ones’ I should know about, or is that it?”

Mom and Dad trade looks over my head and I figure I’ve touched upon one of those unspeakable topics, but Dad surprises me with an actual answer. “One with the Heavens,” he whispers, his voice filled with reverence. “Aside from the name, there is not much else we can say, son, for that is all we know. It is a theoretical step, one believed to be the last step before true Divinity, wherein one must Shatter the Void and ascend into the Heavens to join the Mother Above.”

“Shatter the Void.” There it is again. “What is it?”

“No one knows for certain,” Dad replies, gesturing at the pond outside our manor walls where Ping Ping sleeps at night, “Because those closest to success lack the words to describe it, and those who have experienced it forget the process. All animals must shatter the Void to become Ancestral Beasts, but only so that they might bend the rules of reality to mould themselves into a new existence. In short, Shattering the Void means to break through that which divides the mundane and the Divine, so how can we as mere mortals truly understand?”

“Is it called Shattering the Void because of the Void surrounding our Natal Palace?”

“Yes and no.” Stopping to consider his answer, Dad looks to Mom for advice, but she merely shakes her head in helpless defeat. After a long, silent exchange through Sending, Dad explains, “I understand what you are hinting at, but your logic is faulty. Your Core sits in the Void, but the Void is not your Core. The Void exists outside your Core, and your Core is what separates you from the Heavens beyond. Your Core is a barrier yes, but it does not only hold Chi, it also keeps your being, your mortality, and quite possibly your eternal soul, within.”

Huh. “So what... my Core keeps my soul from... seeping out?”

“Perhaps,” Dad replies, but his tone says otherwise. “Or perhaps it is part and parcel of the whole.”

Meaning... the Core is made of my soul? Or everything inside is organic soul? When I slip into someone’s Natal Palace, am I literally putting my soul into theirs?

...

Ew... Gross. I don’t mind mixing souls with Bei, but what about Dagen, Vivek Daatei, Yo Ling, Pong Pong, and Mahakala? Too many dudes have touched my soul. I don’t like that. Is that weird? Or homophobic? I don’t have anything against gay people, love is love, and love is beautiful, but that doesn’t mean I want some dudes putting their junk all over my eternal soul...

“Stop thinking strange thoughts,” Mom reprimands, and I don’t even need to wonder how she knows. “And do not for a moment think about trying to shatter your Core entirely. They share a single word in common, but you might as well try shattering your bones in search of Divinity. Throughout human history, countless souls have tried to Shatter the Void, and none have survived to speak of failure or success. Perhaps some have succeeded and transcended mortality by taking a new form, but we cannot say for sure, because none have sent word back as the Mother and Father did.” Leaning away and turning my head, she forces me to look her in the eye and says, “Also, I’ll write my name in reverse if you haven’t heard the term somewhere else before. Where?”

“Those notes I’ve been perusing.” I might’ve once hesitated before mentioning them, but after what happened in Sinuji, I came clean to Dad, which is no different from telling Mom. “The author referenced a certain passage when we last met, and it mentions the term.” Despite what they’ve said about how well protected the manor is, I’m still leery about mentioning Zhen Shi out loud, and not just because the Legate’s caution spooked me. Monk Happy reassured me that there were no Spectres lingering about, but I never let facts get in my way before, and I’ll be damned if I start now. Ha. What’d I say? Old people like to get set in their ways. Then again, maybe it’s just me. Who knows.

“You should not put too much stock into those notes,” Mom says, having already made her displeasure known. “Do not forget how far back Elder Ming’s diary set you, a misstep which you are still dealing with today. Knowledge is dangerous, my sweet child, and you have never been one to tread carefully.”

“True, but I think I figured out why Elder Ming’s notes were more harm than help.” Shrugging imperceptibly so as not to ruin the comfy group cuddle, I explain, “His notes went into great length about what he did, but never into why, or at least that’s what I thought. After today’s chat regarding faith, I suspect Elder Ming wrote his poetry in the same journal he kept his private notes because they were an extension of his Dao. The poems were... flowery and indecipherable, but not to him. Those poems embodied his Dao, his thoughts, his emotions, and even his faith, much in the same way Luo-Luo’s music embodies her emotions.”

“Finally, the boy understands.” Chuckling in good humour, Dad kisses my forehead and says, “Now imagine if I had told you as much, three years ago. Would you have understood it then as you do today?”

“...Probably not.” I would’ve spent every waking moment trying to interpret his poems, but even if I understood them perfectly, it wouldn’t have helped. Those poems were his Dao, and I need to find my own.

“Then you have grown wiser with age.” Chuckling as he squeezes me tight, he adds, “And I have not been a complete failure as a Mentor, only mostly.”

“You are no failure.” The words come out harsher than intended, and Dad flinches away in surprise, but I can’t help it. Self-pity is my territory, and I won’t let anyone I love sink into it as well. “I spent months working towards Insight and Enlightenment, but you guided me to it in half a day. You taught me not to lose myself within the Forms, but to find my path within them. Without you helping me with that first step, I would not have risen to the heights I have, so don’t think for a second you’ve ever failed me, because I will be the first to argue otherwise.” To ease the tension, I smile and add, “You’ve probably done some other stuff too, but who can be bothered to keep track?”

Holding one hand up in surrender, Dad settles back into the group cuddle with a sigh, basking in the warmth and comfort I’m sure we all share. “Very well,” he says, after a moment’s pause. “Do you have any more questions to ask?”

“So many questions, but I’ve pondered the Martial Dao enough for today.”

“Then we will keep you no longer.”

“Hang on.” Shimming in to get a little more comfortable, I continue, “I still have questions, just not about the Martial Dao. You know how I was supposed to marry Mila on Spring Equinox? Well I forgot the exact date and didn’t realize equinox is the first of spring, and therefore coincides with the banquet.”

Mom barks with laughter, and while she quickly covers her mouth in contrition, her eyes still sparkle in amusement. “A grave blunder,” she says, her voice shaky and strained as she resists the urge to laugh. “Similar to the one your father made before our wedding. Luckily, Mila loves you and will forgive you, but do not take forgiveness for granted. How do you intend to make it up to her?”

Despite the lack of blood ties between us, I most certainly am my father’s son. “I was thinking I’d cook breakfast for her...”

Time flies by as I talked with my parents, sharing with them my mundane woes and worries regarding love, marriage, pet care, and more. Nothing life-threatening or world-shaking, just normal, everyday matters I needed help with. It felt like only minutes had passed before Dad changed the candles, and then he did it twice more before Mom stopped the conversation short to tell me Yan had just slipped over the manor’s back wall. Though reluctant to end things here, Mom and Dad need their sleep, so I make a note to invite Yan to a family cuddle conversation sometime in the future, if only because she’s probably never had one herself.

Maybe I didn’t solve any problems regarding my Martial Dao, but as I head back to my room, I feel like the weight on my shoulders has gotten a lot lighter, to the point where I can almost forget it’s there.

And not just because Mom and Dad kept Mama Bun after I left. Some burdens are just best shared, emotional or otherwise.

Chapter Meme