Savage Divinity

As the day’s journey came to an end, Song set aside the mysteries of the Martial Path to ponder a matter of grave and immediate concern.

By this time tomorrow, their ten-thousand strong convoy will have arrived at the gates of the Central Citadel, where the true trials and tribulations of this journey awaited them. With Mila still entranced in a half-waking haze of Insight, it would be irresponsible of Song to leave on her own for any reason, as they might be forced to fight or flee at a moment’s notice and Mila would need someone to guide her. What’s more, Rain pointed out the other day that Song herself held value as a hostage, and not only because Mama and Papa would go to great lengths to protect her. If she fell into the hands of Rain’s enemies, then they could use her to help track him down, as she was Oath-Sworn to remain within five kilometres of him at all times. While her Oaths wouldn’t magically inform her of his position, they would compel her to seek him no matter the cost, which meant that if they told her Rain was in the Bekhai village, she would have no choice but to lead her captors through the dizzying maze of mountain paths leading up to them in order to confirm it for herself.

And thereby negating one of the Bekhai’s greatest defensive strengths if it should come to rebellion.

Despite knowing the risks, Rain carefully worded his warning so as not to force her to remain by his side, leaving Song free to come and go as she pleased. While she was normally content to stay at Mila’s side, Song now had someone else’s well-being to consider, namely the shy and aloof weasel-bear she so desperately wanted to befriend. She never should have let it go free in the first place, not without asking Medical Saint Taduk to check its health first. The creature was obviously injured, else it could have easily escaped its bonds and slaughtered the hunter given the strength and skill it displayed. Add in its ungainly, loping gait and obvious unfamiliarity with the surrounding lands, and she worried it would soon starve to death on its own, or worse, blunder his way onto a farm where it would be killed on sight. This was why she started leaving food out for the beast in the first place, and while it felt wasteful and extravagant the first time she left a bucket of expensive, freshly butchered meat out in the middle of a field, it was well worth the effort when she returned later that evening and found the distinctive markings of the weasel-bear’s taloned paws all around the empty bucket.

Thus began her new, twice-daily ritual, setting out from the Citadel every morning and night to feed the wary beast. Though she tried staying behind to see if it would reveal itself, the weasel-bear’s trust was not so easily won, and the tracks were the only proof of its presence she had since setting it free so many days ago. The day they were set to leave for the Central Citadel, she woke up before the sun rose and set out to leave a trail of meat leading around the Northern Citadel and even a little ways south. Then, she spent the entire first day’s trip tossing scraps of fragrant, smoked deer out her carriage window and left a bucket of raw meat on the outskirts of camp that evening before retiring to bed.

The next morning, she discovered her efforts proved fruitful, as she found signs of the weasel-bear’s presence once again when she went to check on the previous night’s offerings. The creature was clever and determined, but as their journey progressed, its continued presence raised questions as to whether it was actually injured, or just too lazy or inept to hunt on its own. It obviously had no issue keeping up with their convoy travelling fifty kilometres every day, so Song wasn’t sure what to think of this ferocious, yet admittedly bumbling creature, but she continued to feed it nonetheless.

Unfortunately, circumstances would soon force her hand, and she would no longer be able to feed the weasel-bear herself once they entered the Central Citadel. She considered hiring an unaffiliated person to deliver meat in her stead, but there was no way to guarantee anyone she hired would follow through with her request. Only a fool like herself would leave expensive raw meat out in the fields to rot, and there was a good chance the clever weasel-bear would be too wary to approach an offering unmarked by her scent. The latter was mostly wishful thinking on Song’s part, as she had no evidence she’d forged a bond with the weasel-bear, but unless she could come up with a viable solution, she would never know for sure.

And now time had almost run out.

No matter how Song approached the issue, she always arrived at the same conclusions. Either she would have to capture the weasel-bear by force, or use Luo-Luo’s musical talents to charm and enchant it. Both options were unappealing, because it meant all of Song’s hard work would go to waste, for if she tamed the weasel-bear through strength of arms or mysticism of music, then it would no longer be her pet, and hers alone. Still, better a shared weasel-bear than a dead or absent one, so Song resolved to ask Luo-Luo for help later tonight. She had no intentions of capturing the weasel-bear though, because she understood why the beast might prefer freedom above all else. Perhaps it only followed her here because it knew there would be an easy meal waiting for it at the end, so who was to say it couldn’t hunt on its own?

As if waiting until Song made her final decision, their carriage slowly came to a stop which signalled the end of the day’s journey, the fourth since they left the Northern Citadel and, if all went well, the last night they’d spend out on the road. Almost bouncing off the walls from being trapped in the carriage’s close confines for so many hours, Lin-Lin bolted out the second her guards silently signalled it was safe, with Blackjack, Sarankho, and the rabbits and the Medical Saint following with similar unseemly haste. In stark contrast to the father-daughter duo, Mila didn’t move at all, save to continue twirling her finger around a lock of curly red hair while absently gnawing on a piece of dried apple.

Were it not for the snack, Mila would be chewing on her hair instead, her gaze distant and focus turned inwards at the detriment of almost everything else. Four days she’d been like this, her and everyone else who returned from the bamboo grove, though none were as inattentive as Mila. It wasn’t as bad as it could be, for Song had heard tales of Martial Warriors so preoccupied with the Martial Path that they couldn’t even use the chamber pot without assistance, but Mila only needed a reminder to do so every time they stopped to rest. She could even wash her face and eat with minimal aid and prompting, while Yan and Niece Alsantset were already responding to events around them, such as to stroke Jimjam’s cheeks or warn Tate to stay out from under the carriage. As for Sister-in-Law Sarnai, she seemed entirely unaffected by her extended bout with Insight, as sharp and sardonic as ever save for those rare moments when she lapsed into silent distraction whilst in the middle of something else.

But to everyone’s surprise, it was Luo-Luo who weathered this trial best of all, emerging from the bamboo grove none the worse for wear save for a bit of minor fatigue. Clever and perceptive as always, the Imperial Servant dove right back into managing Rain’s political affairs after only a single night’s rest, and even before that she seemed in complete control of her faculties save for one minor, almost imperceptible detail. Compared to the Luo-Luo of last week, today’s Luo-Luo was much more relaxed and carefree, lacking her carefully cultivated air of meticulous civility and the cold veneer of courtesy and custom which kept everyone at arm’s length. Not to say she’d abandoned her manners altogether, but she’d dropped many of her more overbearing habits in these past few days, such as her strict adherence to protocol and decorum whilst eating her meals, or her need to greet everyone at the dining table by name and relation in order of rank and importance before sitting down to join them.

It was so minor a difference, Song might not have ever noticed if not for the lengthy litany’s conspicuous absence. “Greetings, Lord Husband, Mother-in-Law Sarnai, Father-in-Law Baatar, Sister-in-Law Alsantset...” and so on and so forth, until Luo-Luo finally ended with, “... and Nephew-in-Law Tate.”

In contrast, today’s Luo-Luo sat with her skirts folded in the grass, playing a lively little tune on her pipa for no one in particular. Absently moving her fingers faster than Song’s eyes could follow, Luo-Luo gently swayed from side to side while giggling at sweet Aurie’s antics as he pranced about with Lin-Lin and Blackjack, the three of them stretching their legs as they skipped about. After making sure Mila was settled in with Sister-in-Law Sarnai, Song headed over to join the Imperial Servant on the grass, sitting down and nodding in silent greeting so not as to interrupt her fun. Without missing a beat, Luo-Luo graced Song with a smile. “Hello Li-Li,” she called while continuing to strum away, finally embracing the intimacy the shortened name represented as opposed to simply using it for the sake of fitting in. “Isn’t this just a lovely day?”

Glancing up at the gathering storm clouds obscuring the still-setting sun, Song refrained from making a comment and simply let the blunder slide. “I require your assistance,” she said, since Luo-Luo seemed wholly capable of playing while distracted. “Have you mastered your musical Aura?”

Without looking away, Luo-Luo’s melody changed and the animals immediately noticed, with Aurie stopping mid-stretch to pad over to her side. Jimjam, Sarankho, and the rabbits followed suit, all of them curiously sniffing and licking the stringed instrument as if trying to understand what it was doing, while Banjo and Baloo gurgled and rolled about in delight. “Nowhere close to mastered,” Luo-Luo said, in contrary to what was happening before Song’s eyes, “For it falls short of Lord Husband’s ability to express abstract emotions, but simplistic ones are easy enough. Happiness is easiest, but it usually arouses curiosity more than anything else, followed by tension or apprehension. My efforts to share other emotions are unreliable at best, and I’ve noticed not all animals respond all the time either.”

As she said this, Luo-Luo glanced at the Guardian Turtle waiting nearby, her breath heavy and eyes fastened to Rain’s carriage door. Although the Death Corps guards were laying out barrels of water for her to drink, she ignored them just as she ignored Luo-Luo’s cheery and curious tune. Roc didn’t care much for the music either, or perhaps he couldn’t hear it from his vigil up high, flying circles around the camp in search of threats or things of interest. The draft horses weren’t affected either, all weary from the long day’s journey, but a few nearby wagon quins seemed eager to come listen, and likely would have if not for their disciplined training.

Overall, Luo-Luo’s musical Aura seemed mostly hit or miss with the animals, meaning there was no guarantee the weasel-bear would respond kindly. Still, despite Song’s mixed feelings about sharing her furry friend’s companionship, she felt obligated to try. After explaining her dilemma in as few words as possible, Luo-Luo simply smiled and stood to leave. “I’m happy to help in any way I can, Li-Li,” she said. “Come, let us see if your little friend is in the mood for a melody.”

Surprised at having secured Luo-Luo’s cooperation so easily, Song simply nodded and led the eager Imperial Servant away. Usually, she waited a few hours before bringing food out for the weasel-bear, not only to give the short, squat beast time to catch up to the convoy, but also so the Khishig scouts would have time to search the surroundings for obvious dangers. However, since the ever-fearful Luo-Luo seemed utterly unconcerned, humming a cheery tune as she strolled along, Song decided going early shouldn’t matter too much. Rain was the main focus of the Supreme families, and Mama had appointed twelve new guards for Song, all of whom were older, grizzled veterans and perhaps even Peak Experts to boot. Tenjin and Tursinai still acted as her guards, but the loving couple were stretched thin protecting her alone, much less Song and Mila both. What’s more, the Fire-Bird of Sinuji had received his own invitation to the banquet and now Tenjin had need of guards to protect him, because their enemies would not be pleased to see another Bekhai Khishig rise to fame and glory. This recognition was long past due, for Rain was not the only hero amongst the Bekhai, and while Tenjin admittedly had merely supplied the torch to a pyre, he’d done so in such spectacular manner that no one would ever forget.

A shame the fallen heroes of Sinuji were not to be recognized as well, but this banquet was meant to celebrate the singular Imperial victory and draw attention away from the many Imperial defeats...

Watching the gathering storm-clouds to ensure they wouldn’t be caught out in the rain, Song picked up the weasel-bear’s dinner from the Khishig quartermaster and led Luo-Luo out of camp. Mindful of her restrictions on distance, she inwardly reasserted that she was not running away from her master, that he would remain inside his carriage for another hour at least, and there was no reason to believe she would end up more than five kilometres away from Rain without warning. It all felt unnecessary, since her Oaths had left her well enough alone these past few days and she never felt the shortness of breath which heralded a panic attack or the urge to run back and check on his location, but having lived like this all her life, these preventative measures were almost second nature by now. It’d been quite the ordeal learning how to go about her day with so much leeway, not only because it was unfamiliar, but because she had to constantly reassure herself that she was not in conflict with her Oaths. At times, she thought things might be easier if she simply told Rain what she wanted to do, and asked him to order her to do it, but somehow, she felt like this would lessen the freedom she’d so come to enjoy.

There was something invigorating about going to the market to purchase a snack and returning home with a new scarf, or heading out to train and stopping to watch a heated sparring match instead. Small pleasures, but fulfilling ones, and she cherished this precious freedom all the more because she knew how easily it could be lost...

After almost an hour of walking, Song signalled for Luo-Luo to stop and proceeded forward for another fifteen paces. By her estimation, they were just a little over four kilometres from Rain’s carriage and well within her limits. It took longer to get this far with Luo-Luo in tow, but considering how Erdene and the other quins had reacted to the weasel-bear during their one and only encounter, Song thought it prudent to leave all other animals behind when interacting with the weasel-bear. Placing the bucket down, she retreated back to Luo-Luo’s side and found the two of them standing alone in the fields, with all of her guards still hidden in Concealment. Off in the distance, the camp bustled with life as tents and barricades went up with practised efficiency beneath the overcast skies and gathering storm.

A bad time for the first spring rain, but perhaps this meant things were not fated to be, so Song swallowed her sigh and signalled for Luo-Luo to begin.

A lively chord rang out into the air, and Song settled back on her heels to wait. Hopefully, the stocky weasel-bear was faster than it appeared, else they might be too early to greet it by some hours yet, but so long as the weather held up, Song had time to spare, and Luo-Luo was happy to play for hours on end without rest. Even when her hands were otherwise occupied, say with handling food or holding a pet, the Imperial Servant would sing or hum a tune as if she couldn’t stand to go a single minute without music to accompany her. Song didn’t mind it much, but while the music was pleasant to the ear, there was nothing more to it. Luo-Luo’s melodies were neither uplifting nor inspiring, and Song felt no hint of Aura from them as so many others seemed to.

Rain was right. Aura was a strange milestone along the Martial Path, one which made little to no sense. A Core was needed to hold Chi, a Natal Palace was used to practise Chi Skills, and a Domain meant to encapsulate External Chi, so what was an Aura good for? Protecting them from baleful Demonic Auras? If this was Aura’s sole use, then why was it a crucial milestone along the Martial Path? One friendly Aura could block many hostile ones, and it could do so for hundreds, if not thousands of people at once, so why was Aura necessary to become a Peak Expert?

In contrast to Song’s dour musings, Luo-Luo remained untouched by both gloomy weather and downcast mood. A beam of sunshine on a stormy day, she stood and smiled amidst the darkening field, playing music to her heart’s content. Her melodies rose and fell, hastened and slowed, changed in pitch, timbre, and frequency, yet throughout it all, Song felt nothing of note. Not joy or pleasure, relief or satisfaction, nothing of what Luo-Luo tried so hard to convey, but still she continued to play. Musical notes in a song, Rain said, before likening Song’s Movements to words in a poem instead. In his eyes, they might be one and the same, but Song understood neither as well as she’d like to, and not half as much as she needed.

A jagged bolt of lightning raced across the skies, illuminating the world around them and heralding the storm to come.

And also revealing dozens of cloaked strangers surrounding Song, their wicked weapons gleaming brightly beneath nature’s brilliant radiance.

These were not her Bekhai guards in Khishig leathers, and Song recognized these skulking strangers as Imperial assassins, revealed to her by the Heavens themselves. Moving on instinct more than reason, she struck out at the closest assassin with Tiger Swipes the Rushes, but the advantage of surprise was not enough to overcome her foe. Saber met sword in a metallic crash, and the assassin staggered away, rocked by the attack but unharmed as he came to a stop with a look of startled disbelief etched across his half-veiled face.

Then thunder boomed overhead, and chaos broke out on the fields of Central.

Three assassins threw themselves at Song as she retreated to guard the Imperial Servant, whom they were no doubt here to capture. Whipping her sabre about in Raising the Winds, she knocked two swords aside whilst the third scraped across her hip. The pain was but an afterthought, informing her of what she’d already expected, but a minor trade was the best outcome she could hope for, as these killers were both faster and more powerful than she. Luckily, they were unaccustomed to fighting in a group, else they’d have staggered their attacks instead of getting in each other’s way, so Song sought to take advantage. Feinting a charge ahead, she smiled in satisfaction as all three assassins leapt away, where Tenjin’s waiting daggers took two by surprise and a Bekhai spear impaled the third.

Leaving these fools to their fate, she wasted no time searching for her next foe. Fierce battle joined all around her, but the clash of steel barely audible as sheets of raindrops plummeted from the skies above and crashed down amongst them, turning solid dirt fields into a muddy death trap. Again, Song seized the advantage and struck before her foes adapted, leaping forward to perform Greet the Moon and deliver an upwards slash she knew wouldn’t connect, but such was not her goal. In his haste to avoid the unexpected attack, her target moved too quickly and without forethought, and the price he paid was both small and large.

Small because his boot slipped a mere half a centimetre before finding his footing in the mud.

Large because this minor distraction was enough for Tursinai’s chain to wrap around his sword and neck.

Like in music, there was no satisfaction to be found in Song’s victory, and she retreated to carry out her duty: safeguard Luo-Luo. She was the target here, there was no doubt in Song’s mind. Why else strike only when she was present? How could she forget the Imperial Servant was also at the crux of this conflict, a prize to be won in the eyes of Yang Jixing? Snarling in fury and frustration, Song embraced her rage and struck with reckless abandon, raising a wall of steel and curtain of raindrops to defend and obscure her position. Her sabre rang against multiple probing thrusts, and she held out for long seconds before another Khishig arrived to relieve her, giving her much needed time to breathe and rest her already weary arms. Outmatched by every combatant on the field, her only hope of survival was to distract her opponents long enough for someone to come to her rescue, but her guards were outnumbered and hard pressed to respond.

Clear and concise movements weren’t enough, not in these conditions and against these foes. Rain called her movements clear and delineated, or in other words, obvious and predictable. Surprise was her only advantage here, so the spoken word would not suffice. She needed to strike with poetry, else Luo-Luo would pay the price for Song’s folly.

“Solemn is the Clear Temple,” she intoned, neither yelling nor whispering the words.

Gliding Wing into Stepping Grasp.

Surging forward to bring the fight to her latest foe, Song’s sabre hissed along her opponent’s sword as she closed in to grab his wrist. She lacked the means to break bones through raw strength alone, but her opponent didn’t know this. Releasing his sword, he jerked his hand away to break her hold, and she let it go easily. Having put too much strength into his escape, the assassin’s momentary confusion gave her enough time to take her saber with both hands and plunge it towards his chest. The Amplified thrust glanced off an unseen Deflection and barely struck her foe, but a wounded assassin was a dead assassin when faced with the Bekhai. Song didn’t even stop to watch him die to the Khishig flanking his position, and instead stopped her thrust short while moving back to guard Luo-Luo, where she noticed a flash of movement out the corner of her eye.

“Reverent are its illustrious adherents.”

Circling the Grass into Twisting Snap and Reverse Bite.

Her sabre scythed through the air and water as the assassin abandoned his attack to avoid the killing blow, his cold, brown eyes wide with surprise and agitation. A hair’s breadth closer and Song’s attack would have blinded the assassin, but she was not done yet. Stopping her momentum through a combination of Lightening and Reinforcement, Song brought the blade around for a desperate, drilling thrust, with so much power behind it her weapon threatened to fly out of her grasp, but she was the sabre, and the sabre was she. The assassin parried the thrust and drew his weapon back, wholly expecting to strike down a helpless Song as she struggled to rein in her over-committed attack.

Except she didn’t regain control. She surrendered it, going along with the momentum to surge forward and move beside the assassin before spinning on her heel to slash at his now exposed flank.

Again, she only wounded her opponent, and again, this was enough, as Kyung’s sabre neatly separated the assassin’s head from his shoulders. Grabbing her so suddenly she almost attacked in response, he dragged her back to Luo-Luo’s side before setting upon his foes with unbridled ferocity, and Song finally caught a glimpse of where Teacher Du’s guidance would lead. If she was a wildcat, then he was a tiger, surpassing these assassins by an even larger margin than they surpassed her. Like her, his movements were clear and delineated, easily read yet moving with such speed and power that it hardly mattered. Kyung could list out his planned movements beforehand, and Song would still be powerless to stop him, and the assassins fared only mildly better as he dismantled their defences and dismembered their bodies in one fell swoop.

Killing Lunge. Reverse the Flow. Fanged Clutch. Twitching Tail. There was no poetry, no music, only repeated singular clashes of steel, brawn, fury, and faith in which Kyung emerged the undisputed victor every time. These were no duels, but forced exchanges, all or nothing with no half measures as he darted about to meet his opponents with reckless abandon. Kill or be killed was the question he raised, leaving himself open to counters because he knew one way or another, their match would be decided in a single blow.

This was Du Min Kyung, the strongest Disciple Du Min Gyu had ever raised. A dominating style suitable for Oath-Sworn warriors and insane masochists like Rain who risked life and limb with every exchange, but it worked well against foes who wanted to survive. Ironic that in seeking life, Kyung’s foes chose death, but here on the battlefield, false hope was deadlier than cold steel.

“Each must walk their own path,” Song mused, mildly irritated that Teacher Du’s style was no longer suitable for her, because she too had been poisoned by treacherous hope. What’s more, her mid-battle Insight had been cut short by Kyung’s appearance, but she was grateful for his aid since it was only a matter of time before she slipped up against her superior foes. Though Kyung wasn’t exactly stronger than Song’s Khishig guards, he was far more efficient and effective due to his lack of restraint, and he swept through the assassins like a sanguine storm. Sword in hand, she watched her surroundings and guarded Luo-Luo until all too soon, the Bekhai and Kyung were left alone on the battlefield, the bloodied victors in this brief, but grisly exchange. Her guards were all still standing, three with assistance, but none seemed in danger of dying since Yaruq seemed content to guard the bodies instead of rushing everyone back into camp.

The cold downpour washed away both blood and tension, sapping the fiery heat of battle from Song’s bones and transforming the dull ache of her lacerated hip to a more pronounced pain now that she had nothing to distract her. Exhaustion settled over her like a sodden cloak, made worse by the restrictive weight of her rain-soaked clothes, and she wanted nothing more than to be dry and warm again, but such luxuries would have to wait. Stemming the bleeding with an effort of Chi and will, she tried to gauge how bad the injury was, but it was difficult to tell in the current conditions. All she knew was that it was too deep and too long to Heal on her own while standing exposed in a field of corpses, because unlike Rain, Song needed complete focus and concentration to do more than stem bleeding, even if she was using his simplified Panacea Healing method. Until they were safely back in camp and surrounded by ten-thousand soldiers, the best Song could do was grit her teeth and cover the gash with a hand.

“Let me see.” Flicking her hand out of the away, Kyung knelt down to check Song’s injury with a practised eye and a surge of probing Chi. “The cut scored the bone, but you’ve skill enough to keep from bleeding out.” Snorting, he released her hand and loomed over her in barely restrained contempt, his cold snarl audible even over the downpour. “Then again, I suppose you’ve plenty of experience in Healing injuries after spending so much time with the Bekhai.”

Narrowing her eyes at the barb, she decided to overlook his remarks just this once since he did just save her life. Luo-Luo’s too, but Kyung paid her little mind despite how alluring the Imperial Servant looked in her soaked, silken robes and shocked, wide-eyed expression, her pipa laying broken in the mud while both hands clutched her sceptre tight in a white-knuckled grip. Unable to think of anything to reassure the poor girl, Song simply reached out and patted her on the arm before turning back to Kyung. “Thank you for your help.”

Curling his lip in a sneer, Kyung huffed and barked, “Do not thank me. I only acted to keep Grandpa from having to come out in the rain to save your worthless hide. The chill is bad for his health.” Waving her aside in a huff, he turned to survey the surroundings and take stock of the situation as another flash of lightning illuminated the darkness around them. “Gather your things and let us head back. Bring your stupid pet with you this time, so there will be no more of this foolishness in the future.”

Pet?

Only then did Song notice the weasel-bear’s presence, its lower half wrapped around the bucket of meat while its upper body loomed over it, snarling and shivering as it tried to make sense of the chaos and violence. The poor thing had probably just come out to eat when the battle began, and now it was frozen in terror and confusion with no idea what to do next. Carefully approaching the poor frightened thing, Song slowly slipped her hands around its midsection and lifted the rumbling weasel-bear into her arms, ignoring its grumbling growls and threatening snarls. It made threats, but didn’t act on them, even snuggling into her embrace to seek warmth and protection, and Song flushed with joy and satisfaction at having won the creature’s trust. Holding it close like a quin would carry its pups, she headed back to camp with its legs dangling just above the ground and the bucket clenched in its paws, while she fought to keep her smile from stretching across her face.

Finally, a pet to call her own. A grouchy, cantankerous, and frankly smelly beast, but it was hers and hers alone.

Chapter Meme