Savage Divinity

As the household came alive to tend to the defeated Divinities, Mila sank deep into the void.

This void was not the Void she was familiar with, the all-encompassing darkness which found her when in the throes of Balance, and the vast chasm held back by her Core and Natal Palace. This was a different void, a sort of inner emptiness which left her a vacant husk of a person. Her body still worked, as evidenced by her actions, moving about the busy manor keeping the rabbits, bears, and wildcats out of the way while Healers tended to their patients, and her mind was sharp as ever, taking in every detail her eyes picked up. The Abbot’s sand-encrusted robes, GangShu’s shredded Runic Armour, Guan Suo’s bloodied, ash-streaked beard, Monk Happy’s furious and frankly frightening visage, Taduk’s frantic expression, and Rain’s determined anxiety, Mila noticed all this and more as the seconds stretched on into minutes.

All the while, the void expanded to engulf her heart and even her soul itself, for today, her beliefs had been shaken to the core. Three Divinities lay in the courtyard before her, brought low by foul agents of the Father Himself, and Mila feared this might be an allegory for the war itself. For so many months, Rain had been harping on about the Imperial Army’s failures to adapt their tactics in response to this ‘new’ threat represented by the evolving Enemy, but Mila’s staunch faith in Imperial supremacy remained strong as ever. Yes, the West had fallen, and yes, Central’s defences were far from ideal, but the Defiled would come, and Imperial Heroes would throw them back with courage and determination, heroes like Mila herself who had been blessed and guided by the Mother Above. While there would be a cost in lives lost, if, Heavens forbid, she were to stumble and fall, there would always be others to take up her cause, Experts further along of the Martial Path like Alsantset and Gerel, Baatar and Sarnai, or Mama and Papa.

And if even the greatest of them fell, then there were still Divinities to rely upon, Divinities like the Smiling Slaughterer, Guan Suo, an Ancestral Beast whose name inspired fear in friend and foe alike for hundreds, or maybe even thousands of years in the past. Except now he lay in her courtyard, bloodied, defeated, and possibly dying, and Mila wondered where they would turn for still greater Experts to hold in his stead...

Awake and conscious yet only barely responsive, Mila stood and watched events unfold with Mama Bun and Tawny One in her arms. Taduk knelt over GangShu, whose body appeared mangled beyond repair, while Monk Happy glowered over the Abbot a fair distance away. Fung’s manservant and torturer, Fu Zhu Li, laboured over Guan Suo in similar fashion, though from the look of the half-weasel’s stoic demeanour, one might think he was perusing a historical record of grain prices or counting ants marching across a dirt path. It made sense he was an able Healer, considering his position as Fung’s undercover bodyguard and torturer, so Mila made sure to add this to the formidable half-weasel’s extensive list of skills and continued watching events in the bustling courtyard unfold, all while keeping the pets in line.

Where Tong Da Hai found a Warrior of Fu Zhu Li’s calibre and how he won his loyalty were questions for another day, though Fung claimed he didn’t know the first thing about his manservant’s past, only that Fu Zhu Li had been with his family for as long as he could remember. Still, the half-weasel’s presence raised many questions, like who called for him to come? A great number of Peak Experts had responded to Rain’s call for aid, no doubt echoed through Sending by Kuang Biao and the other Death Corps. Taduk had been first to arrive, followed closely by Baatar, Sarnai, and Monk Happy, which was hardly surprising considering they had only just left. Fu Zhu Li had arrived hot on their heels, and somehow made it here before Mama and Tokta, which was strange considering Mila wasn’t sure who would even call for him. Taduk maybe? Baatar and Sarnai rarely ever even acknowledged Fung’s manservant, out of respect for his desire to remain inconspicuous, but it would make sense for Taduk to recognize and call for one of his peers. Yet another question to raise once matters settled down, but Mila realized she was merely trying to distract herself by looking at Fu Zhu Li rather than the dying Guan Suo.

And there was no doubting it now, for Guan Suo was most certainly dying, so the half-weasel’s skills had better measure up.

At first glance, Mila hadn’t recognized the crumpled mass as her progenitor; she hadn’t even taken the Abbot’s cargo for humans. Even after Fu Zhu Li straightened Guan Suo’s body out and set to work, Mila still had trouble accepting that she was looking at a living, breathing person, rather than the mutilated remains of a half-eaten corpse. His right shoulder had been cleanly hacked off by a Honed edge, but his legs ended in mashed stumps just below the knees, the flesh crushed and bones shattered by a single blunt impact. Though never the snappiest dresser, Guan Suo’s tunic hung in tattered ribbons from similarly shredded flesh, so frayed and abraded that white bone and pink organs shimmered in the firelight. Mila couldn’t even imagine what sort of weapon might have caused such an injury, until Fu Zhu Li poured water over Guan Suo’s torso and she realized with detached horror that the sand had scoured his skin until almost none was left. Not Chi Sand, but real sand, driven into his flesh from repeated impacts, much like dirt or mud might get into a wound during a sprawling melee.

And now, it interfered with Fu Zhu Li’s efforts to Heal Guan Suo and needed to be rinsed and scrubbed out, yet throughout it all, Guan Suo never uttered a single groan or even flinched in response, merely clutching his Spiritual Pipe close with his one good hand as he lay there comatose and unresponsive.

Sometime during her observations, Mila had stopped seeing anything besides Guan Suo, so it came as something of a surprise to find she’d lost Mama Bun and Tawny One somewhere along the way. She experienced a brief moment of panic until then she remembered handing both bunnies over to Song, and found Papa looming over her protectively with staff in hand. Leaning back to seek his comforting embrace, Mila took in her Papa’s fearsome, yet gentle expression as he smiled and hugged her tight, his unthinking actions ingrained from years of habit.

This was her Papa, her big, strong, dependable father, a man who was quick to laugh, slow to anger, and would do anything to protect her. The man lying in the grass was a veritable stranger, one who never rocked her to sleep or made silly faces for her to laugh at. He never read stories to her at bedtime, or held her close when she scraped her knees. He never taught her how to work the bellows or guided her through proper hammering techniques, never snuck her out for sweets or stole her away for a relaxing quin ride. He didn’t help pick out her dress or cry at her wedding, didn’t lug furniture over to her new manor and lend a hand washing floorboards. No, instead, Guan Suo abandoned her long before she could even form a memory of him, which was the only good thing he’d ever done for her, giving her to parents who loved and cherished her. Everything she knew about him could be summed up in five minutes or less, and even this meagre information took considerable effort to unearth, as he’d been in hiding since before even Baatar had been born.

He was nobody to her, a veritable stranger, so why was Mila so perturbed by the thought of his death?

“No need to mind my feelings, lass,” Papa Sent, kneeling so he could touch his forehead to her head. “You cry if you want to, scream if you must, just do what you need to do. Like it or not, he is blood of your blood, and I know how complicated that can be.”

The problem was, things weren’t all that complicated. Mila didn’t feel like screaming or crying, and in fact, didn’t feel much of anything at all. All she felt was emptiness, a void of nothingness within her chest. No pain, no sorrow, no joy, no satisfaction, and nothing beyond or in between, though a small part of her worried that this wasn’t right. Her progenitor was dying before her eyes, and all she cared about was if there was anyone else she could go to for answers regarding her past.

Mama also came by to check on Mila, as did Song, Yan, Lin-Lin, Luo-Luo, and even Rain. Her poor husband looked so shaken up from tonight’s events, because despite the constant arguing and muttered insults, he rather enjoyed the Abbot’s company and doted on Guan Suo like the father of a close friend. GangShu was more of a business associate, but Rain was not a man who dealt with loss well, and already she could see his calm demeanour coming apart, but despite his fear and distress, he still took the time to come comfort Mila, offering his hand to hold and shoulder to lean on as the Healers carried out their vital work.

As the minutes passed by, more people arrived, including Rustram’s lady love Sai Chou and GangShu’s sons, Daxian and Jorani. The men of the Azure Ascendants also joined them, the drunkard Lei Gong, the solemn Wugang, and the tempestuous Yelu Shi all dropping by to support their leader, and were the Tyrant not absent testing Rain’s wild theories, there was no doubt in Mila’s mind she would be here too. GangShu was a surprisingly likeable Ancestral Beast, or rather he would be if she didn’t see the way his sons and daughters wanted nothing to do with him. While GangShu’s friends were visibly concerned, Daxian seemed more bored than anything else, and Jorani spent more time watching Monk Happy and the Abbot than his own father. Sorya and Anrhi weren’t even in the courtyard, having long since retreated to help Song tend to the animals, but somehow, Mila was certain this was only an excuse. Even before Rain’s Core was shattered, the twin handmaidens wanted nothing to do with GangShu, which somehow made Mila feel a little better about not being the only ‘unfilial’ demi-human.

Unfortunately, seeing Sai Chou’s visible concern made Mila feel nothing but anger, for this was more than the concern a subordinate holds for her superior. Rustram and Sai Chou had been amongst the first guests to dine at their new home, and even before that Mila had many chances to converse with the Protectorate second, and from what she could tell, Guan Suo had all but raised Sai Chou after her parents were murdered by loan sharks. Not in any fatherly capacity, and not on his own, but Guan Suo did more for Sai Chou than he ever did for Mila, which was a sore spot she didn’t care to touch upon.

Why did he care for Sai Chou, an unrelated girl who literally dropped into his life, but didn’t bother identifying himself to his own flesh and blood?

To make matters worse, Sai Chou’s story was hardly unique, as many members of the Protectorate learned their skills from Guan Suo himself. Were they amongst the People, most of them would be counted as Guan Suo’s Disciples at the very least, if not his outright family, which showed that the surly old red panda was capable of raising children, just not interested in raising children who were his. Then again, Mila couldn’t really be sure since she’d never even heard of another half-red panda, much less met one, so perhaps she had older siblings whom she’d never met who’d been raised by Guan Suo, in addition to his surrogate sons and daughters in the Protectorate.

A tortured gasp shattered the tense silence of the courtyard, the first overt sign that any of the three Divinities were still alive, and it came from Guan Suo being worked on by Fu Zhu Li. There was so much pain and suffering crammed into the incoherent utterance that it finally broke through Mila’s shell of apathy and set loose her suppressed emotions. Despite all the anger and abandonment, she still clung onto the small hope that Guan Suo had some minuscule scrap of love for her, and it pained her to see him so. Maybe he checked in with Mama and Papa to ensure she was growing up well, or asked about her in secret letters sent every year. Maybe she reminded him too much of her mother so he had to give her away, or maybe he just thought she’d find a better life amongst the People than in the Protectorate. Whatever the reason, Mila had romanticized this errant progenitor of hers for years in her youth, and thought there might come a day when they would reconcile and be... not father and daughter, but some other form of family, one which didn’t conform to societal norms.

And now that might never happen, which left her... not dismal or heartbroken, but mournful of a relationship which would never be, with a man she would never truly know...

After hours of cleaning and effort, Guan Suo finally regained full consciousness, the only Divinity to do so thus far. Unfortunately, this was far from a good sign like Mila thought, as he reached up and feebly pushed Fu Zhu Li’s hands away. “Enough,” Guan Suo said, his raspy voice wracked from silent screams and eyes still clenched in pain. “Enough. You’ve done what you could. No point wasting effort on a dead man.”

To Mila’s muted shock, the half-weasel didn’t argue, nor did he move to resume his work. “I could make you more comfortable,” he said, though there was no comfort to be found from his demeanour. “Ease the pain of your passing.”

“Pain ain’t what’s killing me, and I’ve still some affairs to settle.” Sinking into the grass with a sigh, Guan Suo’s sightless, clouded eyes peered up at the night’s sky and Mila worried he would pass then and there, until he drew another breath and said, “Sai Chou? You here?”

“Yea.”

“Bring me to her? So she’ll know I’ll be gone fer good. The big girl never did like it when I left her alone too long, but least she’s got the rest of you and the boy to keep her company now.”

And just like that, Sai Chou gathered Guan Suo carefully into her arms and carried him out to Ping Ping, without so much as a thank you or goodbye. Still standing at her side, Rain pulled Mila closer and asked, “Do you want to sit down?”

“No.” Dry-eyed and dispassionate, Mila shook her head and met Rain’s concerned gaze. “I’m fine.”

She could tell he didn’t believe her, and truth be told, she didn’t believe it either, but she certainly felt fine. No, not exactly fine, but numb and indifferent, as if all this had nothing to do with her. In truth, it didn’t, because Guan Suo was little more than a stranger, so why should his death affect her on a personal, emotional level? No, she would mourn his loss, as she would mourn the loss of any Imperial Warrior, but she had no tears to shed for the Smiling Slaughterer, not tonight.

Unsurprisingly, her aloof response troubled her beloved husband, as well as Mama and Papa who were hovering nearby, but it was the truth and Mila had no words to console them, because she didn’t understand it herself, nor were her thoughts capable of focusing on any particular subject for long. Time simply passed between blinks, as one moment she was standing with Rain, and the next she was on a couch between Mama and Papa. Another blink found her at the table with a cold pastry in hand, and yet another found her back in the courtyard, watching Monk Happy bring the Abbot away with Rain following at his side. From snippets of conversation, she discovered that while GangShu had passed through the worst of it and would most likely survive, the Abbot’s outcome still looked bleak. Mila was no Healer and didn’t understand what was killing these Divinities, from the looks of things, Mama and Papa didn’t know either.

“Mila?” Hearing her name, she turned around and found Sai Chou standing at the manor doors, beckoning for her to come over. “He asked to see you.”

Mila wanted to ask why, but then she spotted Sai Chou’s reddened eyes and thought better of it. At least Guan Suo would have someone to mourn him, even if it wasn’t his own child. That was good. No one should die unloved. Mila looked to her parents to see if they’d like to come with her, but Mama held Papa back and shook her head. “Go to him and hear what he has to say,” Mama said, her gaze filled with concern. “Try not to judge him too harshly; remember that your parents owe him for a lifetime of happiness.”

Meaning they were grateful to have her in their lives. This was how parents should be, not like Guan Suo who’d given her away, never sought to reconnect, and offered a pithy retort when she bared all her pain and anger for him to hear. “Yes Mama.”

Sai Chou brought Mila out into the park at a brisk pace, which did not bode well for the Ancestral Red Panda. Down by the lake, he laid in Ping Ping’s embrace, who had flattened herself in the dirt to watch her friend pass. There was so much pain and sorrow in the giant turtle’s expression, so much anguish it hurt to watch, and Mila felt a surge of guilt and remorse welling up from within over being less concerned with Guan Suo’s passing than a mere beast. Patting Ping Ping’s beak in hopes of consoling her, Mila sidled around into the Divinity’s view and waited for him to speak, until belatedly remembering he couldn’t see. Clearing her throat, she said, “I’m here. What did you want?”

So brusque and impersonal, she regretted the words before they left her mouth, but she could do nothing to change them. She wasn’t experiencing this moment, but rather spectating it, watching another Mila speak with Guan Suo during his last moments before returning to the Mother’s Embrace. If her words pained him, he certainly didn’t show it, but then again, he barely seemed to notice all his horrendous injuries, so it was hard to say if her blunt greeting caused any hurt. “My earliest memory is of her,” he began, his sightless orbs fixated on Ping Ping’s mournful expression. “There was nothing, and then there was light, and she was just standing there studying me with the most curious expression. She couldn’t have been more than a quarter her current size, and me even less, but for a long time, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to wrap my arms around her beak and smile.” With a chuckle that was half cough, he shook his head and sighed. “There’s a story there, one I’d hoped to one day figure out, but it looks like I’ve run out of time. Was it fate? Did the Mother guide her to me? Or was it mere coincidence that she happened to be ambling by when I ascended to Divinity? Damnedest thing was she didn’t want anything from me, just followed me around and kept me company, and I never could figure out why.”

“Because she knew you before you ascended.” It was a guess, one Mila never shared, but hearing this all but confirmed it. “When she was a smaller turtle, you were a giant red panda, and I think you kept her safe from predators, much like she did for the forest creatures around Ping Yao.”

“Haha, you think so?”

“Yea.” Settling down beside him in the grass, Mila did what she could to make him comfortable while making contact so she could Send, “Rain does this thing, where he can slip into her Natal Palace. I don’t understand it, but he saw a giant Red Panda there, and...”

Mila’s explanation was neither clear nor concise, and it was some time before she realized she was rambling, but Guan Suo didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he wore a rare smile stretched across his face, and even put down his coveted pipe to pat Ping Ping on the beak. “I see, I see. So we were friends in a past life, so to speak. Well, how about one last hug in case we don’t end up friends in the next?”

Struggling to work his one remaining arm, Guan Suo tried to sit up without success until Mila could no longer stand idly by. Helping him up, she swallowed the lump in her throat and tried not to cry as Ping Ping gently nuzzled him with all the love and affection she could muster and he clung tight to her and cried. After a short while, Guan Suo’s ravaged body was wracked with coughs, and Mila had to lay him back down, but Ping Ping remained in close contact and never once left his side. There were no mournful squeaks, not tonight, and Mila felt like the Guardian Turtle wholly understood what was happening here, and had already come to terms with her loss.

Which was more than Mila could say about herself...

“The boy,” Guan Suo said, as soon as his coughs settled down. “He’s doing better?”

“Yes. He’s not frail and in constant pain anymore, almost as healthy as a mortal can be.” Though that was all Mila meant to say, she added, “We were married this past summer, on midsummer, in fact.”

“Oh? Congratulations to the happy couple.” Coughing twice more, Guan Suo sheepishly asked, “Err... How long ago might that have been? Can’t rightly say how long I been gone for.”

“You, the Abbot, and GangShu left Sinuji to battle the Enemy Divinities just over two weeks before spring, and we are currently one month into autumn.” Almost eight months had passed since Rain last laid eyes on Guan Suo, and even longer for Mila, but as much as she wanted to know how a battle between Divinities could last so long without anyone dropping dead of exhaustion, she knew now was not the time to satisfy her curiosity. “And thank you. For the congratulations.”

“Didn’t get you a gift,” Guan Suo muttered, not repentant in the least. “Not that I would’ve. Coin, Pei. Never understood the draw of it, or why fools felt the need to risk life and limb for it. Shiny bits of metal is all it is, and we’d all be better off without it.” Patting Ping Ping’s beak as he settled in against her, he took a few shallow breaths to recover before continuing, “Live as long as I have, and your whole perspective changes. You won’t have as many years, but you’ll see what I mean soon enough. Humans base their world around what they can perceive, which rarely goes beyond a decade or two. Hell, most can’t see beyond the next day, but even the best and brightest don’t care to plan for anything over a century away, because they don’t have any reason to. Most will die before ever making it that far, but you? With luck, you’ll live five human lifetimes, and if you live them well, then you’ll find plenty of pain and heartache for your troubles.”

A bleak outlook on life, and Mila was in no mood for fatherly advice from a man who never once showed inclination to be her father, but seeing as how he felt the need to share this in his hour of death, she held her tongue and listened. “Don’t rightly know how long I’ve lived,” he said, smacking his lips which sent Mila reaching for the water-skin Sai Chou left for him. “I’m sure someone could look it up and get a number for you, but I doubt it’d be right. I lived many lives before my name became known, had more than my share of heartache. After running around with Ping Ping for Mother knows how long, I stumbled across a little village, where a kindly older couple, maybe fifty, sixty years a piece, took me for a feral half-beast and adopted me as their son. Showed me how be a human, dressed me up, taught me to speak, loved and cherished me like their own flesh and blood. I took up the woodcutter trade and soon enough, the tables turned and it was me lookin’ after them with Ping Ping by my side. Thirty three years I spent at my parents’ side, like a blink of the eye now, yet I remember it so fondly. First, they looked after me, then I looked after them, then both passed of old age. My Da went first, then my Ma a few months after, one after the other real peaceful like, and truth be told, I think Ma only stuck around to get me to promise her I’d find myself a wife.”

Clearing his throat in wordless appeal for a drink, Guan Suo smiled as Mila helped him up and raised the water skin to his lips. From the smell of it though, it wasn’t water in the water skin, and his impish grin told her he knew she wouldn’t approve. “So after lighting the funeral pyre and squaring away my things, I set out in search of a wife, and after travelling about for some time, I found one in Hua Meng. Lovely girl, deserved more than a destitute woodsman, but she was young and I was a handsome, exotic traveller from ‘far off’ lands, with a giant pet turtle to boot. We fell in love, got married, settled down, and then... well, then we started a family.”

Wheezing as if he’d just told the funniest joke in the world, he accepted another mouthful from the water skin and continued his tale. “See, I didn’t know I was an Ancestral Beast back then. Da said I was a half-beast, so that’s what I must’ve been. Didn’t think I could have kids, but then Hua Meng got pregnant, and seeing how we was together all the time, there was no doubt the baby was mine. Being young and dumb as we were, we thought it was a miracle from Heaven, a baby to bless our loving union.”

Guan Suo’s smile slipped, and he fell silent for long seconds, until the pall passed and he continued on. “But those were darker times, times before the Treaty and alliances. Word got out, Martial Warriors came a hunting, and Hua Meng died with our unborn child still in her belly. That night was the first time I killed a man. Seven men, to be exact, experienced Warriors one and all, and me without any Martial training. I was strong then, stronger than I’d ever known, and I could’ve saved Hua Meng and our child if I hadn’t been so damned stupid. Blamed myself for years, decades, centuries even, but then I came to see her death and the death of my parents as a blessing, because they died without knowing what sort of monster I truly was.”

Lost in his memories, Guan Suo skipped ahead and Mila wondered what other pain he was hiding. “By the time you came around, I’d long since forgotten what they all looked like. I’ve lived so many lives it’d take years to recount them all, but here’s the long and short of it. I learned I was an Ancestral Beast, and that strong as I was, there were people who were stronger and wanted to hunt me, enslave me, break me to their will while I was still young and malleable. I hid when I could and fought when I had to, spent decades living in obscurity until my pursuers caught up to me again, and then the cycle would repeat. I made friends and enemies, took lovers and raised Disciples, and did my best to start a family every chance I got, because somehow I thought the next time would be different from the last. It never was, and eventually, I gave up entirely, and that’s when I earned the name of ‘Smiling Slaughterer’. Death was all I knew, and dealing death was all that I enjoyed, right up until things came full circle and I found my way back to Ping Ping.”

Patting the turtle’s beak once more, Guan Suo polished off what little remained in the water skin, and it put some colour in his pale, wan cheeks. “I lost her somewhere along the way, in one battle or another. She never was suited to combat, and more prone to run and hide until it all blew over. When I found her again, she greeted me the same way she always did, with a happy squeak and a nuzzle, the same way she first greeted you, and all my other children. She ain’t real bright, thinks anyone with a fluffy tail is her friend, but there are worse ways to live life.”

Unable to resist, Mila straightened up and asked, “I have siblings?”

“None living,” Guan Suo replied, dashing all her hopes. “And for good reason. You remember what I told you the day we met? I might look human and play at being human, but deep down, I’m no more than a beast. My pipe and wineskin are all that keeps me sane some days, when I feel like killing every living human and predator within a thousand kilometres for daring to encroach upon my territory. Friends, enemies, it doesn’t matter, because whether I want to or not, I claim the land I live on and will not suffer intruders lightly.”

Sinking into Mila’s arms, Guan Suo could barely even hold himself up anymore, and his voice grew weak and haunted. “I’ve lost count of the number of my children I’ve given up, all because I felt they weren’t right. When they first come out, it’s all smiles and kisses from daddy Guan Suo, but then they stay... babies. They can’t even sit up, much less stand and walk, and they take so much care and attention to keep alive. Pick em up too quickly and their neck could snap, put em down too hard and they might never wake up again, need to eat every few hours for months without end, and still they need constant coddling just to make sure they don’t run off and die. Soon enough, a little voice starts up in the back of your head, telling you this ain’t right. The kid ain’t right. They’re too weak, too feeble, too much of a drain on time and resources, and it’ll never change. How is this tiny thing supposed to have a life on its own? It can’t, so it’s best to put it out of its misery.”

“How can you say that?” Mila’s tears came easily now, burning a trail down her cheeks. “How could you do that?”

Though his features softened, Guan Suo’s tone remained grim. “Never said I did, and even if I had, there’s no malice or hatred in it, only misguided animal instinct overcoming human good sense. You see it all the time in the wild, with animals eating their own offspring or letting the weak ones die off. Nature is cruel and merciless, and it will not grow kinder with time, so if a child is weak, it’s best to let it die in infancy. Gives the other, stronger children a better chance to survive.” Sighing, he shook his head and slid over to lean on Ping Ping’s arm. “I kept you the longest. Not for any special reason, just wanted to know if I could do it, if I’d changed after so many centuries of life. Six months I tended to you, changing diapers and rocking you to sleep, and throughout it all, I had this constant, incessant urge just to snap your fragile little neck, even as you smiled so prettily in my arms.”

There were no tears in his sightless eyes, for his tears had long since been cried out, but his regret was clear as day. “I wanted to love and cherish you, to raise you as my own, but I couldn’t. You were mine, and the animal in me wanted you dead because of this, but gone was good enough. I gave you to one of my Protectorate, told him to take you away to a good home, somewhere far enough I’d never see you. He was a half-beast who remembered the grand chase your scamp of a mother put us through, so I suppose he thought it’d be funny to bring you to her, and you know the rest. Didn’t even know you were with the scamp until I heard word of your exploits during the Society’s Contests, and as much as I wanted to feel pride, I didn’t. I just felt... nothing. No love, no hatred, just indifference.” His voice broke, just the tiniest bit, as he added, “Because it’s easier that way.”

Tilting his head towards the starry night sky, Guan Suo’s lips twisted in a grimace. “Some days, I feel like Ancestral Beasts are the result of a cruel joke of the Heavens. We have the capacity to be human, but not the ability, for our bestial instincts are far too strong. Even sitting in the same room as another Ancestral Beast is almost enough to drive me to murder, for I see a rival and competitor, someone to kill or be killed by, even though the human side of me knows there’s more than enough food, land, and resources to go around. You half-beasts? Demi-humans, however you want to call it, you are most certainly more human than beast, and for that, I envy you.”

Gazing upon the pitiful Divinity, Mila quietly asked, “And my birth mother?”

Guan Suo shrugged, and Mila’s heart broke. “Can’t rightly say,” he replied. “Don’t even remember her name. Died in childbirth is what I was told, and her parents gave you away to the Protectorate. I tried to raise you, couldn’t, and you found your way to the scamp. You were right, Sumila of the Bekhai. You are far better off without me, and it pleases me to know you lived a life full of love and affection, a life I never could have given you.”

“So why tell me all this?” Mila asked, unable to accept that he had no familial feelings at all. “Why justify yourself to a child you never cared about?”

“Never said I didn’t care,” Guan Suo countered. “I wanted to care, tried to love you like my own, be more than the beast would let me, but I couldn’t. Don’t expect you to forgive or understand, just figured you’d want to know the whole truth.” Closing his eyes with a sigh, he patted Ping Ping one last time and murmured, “Tired. Gonna rest now. You be happy. Tell your husband to look after Ping Ping. Bring her home. Safer that way. Be smarter than I was and let the Imperials fight their own battles for once.”

And then the Smiling Slaughterer’s arm went slack as he breathed his last, and Mila’s father sank quietly into the Mother’s warm embrace.

Chapter Meme