Savage Divinity

“To good food, good wine, and good company!”

Draining his cup dry in a single gulp, Nian Zu savoured the warmth as it spread through his belly, thoroughly enjoying the new year festivities. At first glance, the Bekhai seemed a cold, taciturn lot, humourless isolationists who were deeply suspicious of strangers, but once you made it through their prickly, guarded shells and into their good graces, they were warm and hospitable to the extreme. Generous with friends and difficult with strangers, that summed up the Bekhai in a nutshell, but after more than a year of working together through weal and woe, he was gratified to finally be brought into their inner circle.

No, perhaps he’d been brought in much earlier, now that he thought about it. During last year’s new year’s celebrations, Baatar had invited him to enjoy Zheng Luo’s concert at an outdoor venue, but Nian Zu took it for a political ploy. Difficult not to considering how matters unfolded, beginning with the Imperial Consort revealing her stunning musical talents, followed by the Bekhai youths taking the stage to demonstrate their martial prowess, all culminating in with Gerel revealing himself as a Peak Expert and rising dragon, a young Lu An Jing or Dugu Tian Sha in the making. Everyone there saw the concert as a declaration of strength, the Bekhai showcasing their hidden talents to better support the recently crippled Falling Rain, but Nian Zu now knew better. That concert had not been arranged for their enemies, but for their friends, the allies they invited up to the top floor of the tea-house to enjoy the show alongside them, such as Yuzhen, BoHai, and Nian Zu himself.

This was more in line with their way of thinking, he realized this now. As recent events had shown, Akanai was a powerhouse comparable to the Colonel Generals of the Empire, and Baatar himself was not too far behind. If they really wanted to warn off their enemies, either one of them could’ve called Rang Min out to duel, instead of allowing a young Warrior fight their battles for them. No, the challenge was all Gerel’s idea, for the hungry young dragon was always eager to test his blade against Warriors of renown. Though Nian Zu was objectively stronger than the young man by no small margin, strength did not always guarantee victory in combat, it only made victory more likely. Despite sparring with young Gerel some hundreds of times now and handily winning every single match, there was never a single match in which Nian Zu’s victory had been assured, and several times when he might well have lost if luck had turned against him.

Such was the way of battle. Though statistically, he would win 999 battles out of 1000 times, it wouldn’t matter if they fought a single time and Gerel ‘lucked’ out to emerge victorious, not in a real life and death match.

Lounging in his chair on Nian Zu’s left, Yuzhen’s young husband made for an impressive sight, and not just due to his handsome looks or fashionable clothes. With his long hair tied in a topknot and held in place by an elaborate silver band, he looked the perfect part of Imperial Hero, and the loving gaze reserved for his wife made him seem all the more relatable. They were often the talk of the Empire, the brilliant half-beast Marshal and her devoted young Dragon of a husband, two powerful individuals who were clearly head over heels for one another. Jaded as it might sound, true love was a rarity among noble elites, but the people did so love to see it happen. Already a number of stylized dramas featuring Yuzhen and Gerel were on display in the Citadel theatres, most of which were wildly popular but had no basis is truth. Nian Zu had watched most, if not all of them, and his only complaint was that all too many of them ended in tragedy, as if the playwrights couldn’t even imagine their relationship ending well.

Turning his gaze to another loving human/half-beast couple in the room, Nian Zu admitted that the playwrights might have been onto something. Baatar and Sarnai were every bit as much in love as Gerel and Yuuzhen, if not more, but where the latter appeared perfect for one another, seeing the former side by side made for a bittersweet sight. Though still a handsome woman, Sarnai was a woman of almost eighty years and showed it, but Baatar’s features seemed untouched by time. Were it not for the love and passion in their eyes, one might think them mother and son, with Falling Rain being Sarnai’s grandson to boot. They were a beautiful couple who were clearly still in love after a lifetime together, but seeing the stark contrast between their perceived ages brought about a sense of melancholy Nian Zu couldn’t shake, because the more loving the couple, the more painful the eventual parting would be.

At least Baatar and Sarnai were smarter than he’d ever been, cherishing what they had together instead of waiting for ‘another day’. Du Yi hadn’t even taken the time to bid him farewell, only leaving a letter he cautioned Nian Zu to burn after reading, which he never did. The letter was all he had left of the man he loved, the man he wish he’d married. Why would he burn it? Who was left to even care?

Those who might care don’t matter, and those who matter don’t care.

Buoyed by the thought, Nian Zu moved on to a happier topic. Having seen what a wonderful job Yuzhen had done with her husband, he had hoped she could work her magic with Baatar, but the man was not amenable to change. Easy to forget he was also an old curmudgeon, since he hardly looked older than Gerel himself, but the half-wolf hero was set in his ways and stubborn to boot. Dying his silver hair black and letting it grow long would have done much to help the people of the Empire accept him, but the intractable man would not have it, to say nothing of convincing him to take a second, younger wife, if only for show. Even getting him to trade his roosequin in for a horse had him grumbling for weeks now, and upon learning Baatar’s mount was a Spiritual Beast, Nian Zu at least understood why.

Despite fighting alongside them for so long, the Bekhai still managed to hold back a handful of surprises, and he suspected they still had more to share.

No matter. Although the common people had little love for Baatar, the same could not be said of the soldiers under his command, even those he disciplined and publicly humiliated. Why, Nian Zu could only speculate, but he believed it had to do with Baatar’s particular brand of disproportional justice. Normally, this meant the wealthy, well-connected soldiers and Officers were given free rein to do as they pleased, while those without powerful backers were punished for even minor infractions, but in Baatar’s eyes, the higher ranked an individual was, the more responsibility they must bear for whatever went wrong. While an individual soldier might be given extra training or physical exertion for a lapse in discipline, their commanding officers usually suffered worse since Baatar considered a lack of discipline as a failure in leadership. If too many soldiers in a single unit were found lacking, their commanding officer would be punished as well, and the correlation held as true for junior officers and their higher-ranked commanders. Several Officers had been booted out of the army and even more had been stripped of rank, and while his actions made him many enemies, Baatar paid no heed to the bribes and threats that came his way, because his goal was not to rise through the ranks and accumulate money and power, but solely to defend the Empire from the Enemy.

For almost sixty years, Nian Zu had searched for someone with such dedication to groom as his successor, and it pained him to discover just how rare this sentiment truly was. Baatar might see himself as one of the Bekhai and show prejudice against strangers in his personal life, but when it came to soldiering, he didn’t see family or affiliation, only comrades and complications. Getting rid of the complications did him no favours politically, but the career soldiers under his command thoroughly appreciated his actions, because Mother knows the higher ranks held more dead-weight than most cared to admit. Many of the decorated Officers serving under Nian Zu were worth less than the carved jade tokens denoting their rank and were about as bright to boot, but politics made for strange bedfellows, or so the saying went. Now that Baatar, and Nian Zu by extension, had demonstrated their willingness to place more emphasis on discipline than face, the only people who had reason to criticize them were those already in the wrong, and the Imperial Army was better for it.

Or at least, the Northern Imperial Army was better for it. Nothing Nian Zu said or did would affect the other provinces, and in truth, he preferred it this way.

Smiling as Yuzhen dutifully filled his cup for the umpteenth time, Nian Zu inwardly shook his head and chuckled. When did he grow so old and jaded that he couldn’t take his mind off work for even a single night? Here, at this new year’s banquet amongst friends, was a rare opportunity to relax and ease his worries, if only for a few hours, and he’d spent most of it lamenting about how things were not as they should be. Du Yi would be laughing if he was watching from on high, and he would be right to. Work as hard as needed, sleep as often as possible, and play the rest of the time, that was Du Yi’s mantra, even if his schedule didn’t allow for much sleep or play. Still, if ever there were a time for Nian Zu to enjoy himself, it was here and now, on the dawn of a new year alongside all the people he cared for.

Hosted by Baatar and Sarnai, they spared no expense for the festivities and kept it reasonably intimate despite the long list of attendees. Aside from family, which included Akanai, Du Min Gyu, and Medical Saint Taduk, only the closest of friends had been invited, but the Bekhai had made many since coming to Central. Taokang Geyan, Lishan Suzhen, Taiyi ZhuShen, and his Disciple Li TieGuai were the guests of honour, while Nian Zu sat at a seat of honour due to his rank. Other notable attendees included Magistrate Tong Da Hai and his son Tong Da Fung, BoHai and BoShui, Jia Yang and his nephew Jia Zian, as well as a bevy of other trusted individuals here to share in Baatar and Sarnai’s good news, for Falling Rain was once again in good health, and ambulatory once again.

Gazing into the empty stare of the young Legate himself, Nian Zu choked back a sigh of regret and wondered if they’d erred in revealing young Rain in his current state. Though no longer comatose and now capable of standing, walking, and even eating if given enough time, Falling Rain’s recovery was less than complete. Physically, he was in fine health, better than he’d been in months, but the poor boy’s mind had yet to return. There was nothing hiding behind his amber eyes, nothing remotely resembling awareness, just an empty mind to match his vacant expression as he sat and stared at nothing. It took several weeks of treatment to get him this far, treatment Nian Zu suspected cost several vast fortunes in Spiritual Plants, but at least young Rain wasn’t dead to the world anymore. Hence Yuzhen’s reasoning for suggesting this banquet, to let the world know their Legate was up and about once again, a goal they accomplished by having his carriage parade through this streets with the windows wide open to show him in good health, then making a big show of having him exit the carriage and walk upstairs unaided, save for sweet Mei Lin clinging to his arm.

Sadly, that was about the full extent of Falling Rain’s recovery, and the problems were worrisome to the extreme. Thus, only trusted friends and allies had been invited and the venue, one surrounded by Death Corps, Imperial soldiers, Bekhai Experts, and more, all with Domains deployed to block Scrying and standing orders to kill anyone and everyone who might happen to spot the Legate’s infirmity. A risk bringing him out like this, but a risk they needed to take, because the outer provinces were fast falling apart without his presence to unite them. A silly thing to squabble over, whose opinion should matter most, but Nian Zu was unable to get his Central counterparts to see sense, while Yuzhen and Central Marshal Yo Jeung-Hun lacked the ability to sway Southern Marshal Quyen Huong, who had his hands full dealing with the issue of the recently deceased Colonel General Tran Hoang’s replacement. From the outside looking in, Nian Zu would have thought the steely Marshal in firm control of his entire province, but much like the Society of Heaven and Earth, the South only stood together against outside pressure, which meant they were likely far less united than he’d previously believed. A shame that, because if the South had remained undivided, then he could have worked with them to exert pressure on Central to keep Shuai Jiao and Ryo Dae Jung from running amok.

Turning back to the young Legate, Nian Zu watched the boy mechanically eat the food before him and stifled back yet another sigh. Rumours of an ambulatory Falling Rain might keep Central and South in line for another month, but nothing short of his direct intervention would tear down the metaphorical walls between the outer provinces. Had he known this might happen, Nian Zu would’ve never let Rain lead the reinforcements to Castle Jianghu and kept him back in the Citadel where it was safe, but it was difficult to argue against him when his mere presence added tens of thousands of Death Corps Guards and three thousand lion-mounted Royal Guardians to the field.

Elbowed in the side by young Yuzhen, Nian Zu came to his senses as she Sent, “Stop staring. Your thoughts are laid bare for all to see.”

Damn it. Sarnai had noticed him too, which meant he would have to go over and apologize. Polishing off another cup of wine to feed his courage, Nian Zu got up and headed over to placate the prickly woman. “The boy is looking well,” he began, patting young Rain’s shoulder ever so gently so as not to break him. “Surprisingly well,” he added, studying the boy a little closer and noting how hale and healthy he appeared. Though still a long ways from being considered strapping, Rain’s frame wasn’t as scrawny as Nian Zu would have expected, his firmly toned muscles evident beneath his loose silk robes, yet not stretched to the limits as he’d once been. For the first time since shattering his Core, the boy’s face bore no signs of acne either, because even after he got it under control, he still had a handful of outbreaks here and there. Supposedly a common dilemma among youths without Cores, often going hand in hand with unpleasant body odour which the boy also struggled with in the past, but now, it seemed he’d been cured of that which ailed him. “Is his...? Is he...?”

Though he left the question unasked, Baatar understood Nian Zu’s meaning and nodded. “He suspects the boy’s Core has been mended,” he Sent, gesturing towards the Medical Saint. “How, I do not understand, but it has something to do with the Medicinal Baths helping to refine his physical body, which then mended his metaphysical wounds. The Core affects the physical body, so why not the other way around? That is as far as I understand it, but aside from his consciousness, I’ve not noticed any difference which would indicate a refined physical body, aside from the ability to lightly run a mundane knife over his skin without leaving a mark. Push down hard enough to mark wood and he’ll still bleed, so hardly worthy of note.” Grinning as he shrugged, Baatar added, “It matters not. I know not the why or how, and only care that my son is alive and well.”

Physical body refinement, a dream or a joke depending on who one asked, but it seemed Taiyi ZhuShen’s lifelong ambitions had finally been realized today. “Is there a way I could procure one of these medicinal baths for myself?” Resisting the urge to rub his wrists which always ached of late, Nian Zu added, “Whatever the cost, I will bear it.”

“Already being worked on.” Winking handsomely, Baatar Sent, “At the moment, only Taiyi ZhuShen possesses the required expertise to manage the heat and dosages, though to my eyes, it looked like they simply stewed my son in a hot spiced bath for an hour every day for the last three weeks. If you desire further explanation, you will need to speak with the Healers yourself, but once they have worked out the proper dosages and timings, you will be among the first to partake.” Half smiling in poorly concealed amusement, Baatar added, “We thought it best not to use the esteemed Colonel General as one of our test subjects for the less experienced Healers, but if you are amenable to the idea...”

Test subjects? As in multiple? Were the Bekhai sitting atop a hidden field of Spiritual Plants as well? How else to explain their ability to create so many medicinal baths? After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Baatar while studying Rain and avoiding Sarnai’s ire, Nian Zu excused himself to go speak with Taiyi ZhuShen. Though the obscenely wealthy Healer ignored him, his discussion with his fellow Healers centred on the exact topic Nian Zu was interested in, and while he was woefully unequipped to take part in the discussion, he knew enough to follow along with most of what was being said. All in all, Rain had gone through thirty-two hour-long baths at great expense and now possessed a body slightly more durable than your average Martial Warrior, though the Medical Saint posited that this was due to either Rain’s lower starting point or the need for more baths, which were sure to continue. The fetching Healer Lishan Suzhen argued that as beneficial as these baths might be, they were hardly cost-effective and it was unreasonable for widespread usage considering the lacking supply. What’s more, she cited research which showed Spiritual Plants lost efficacy over time after they were uprooted, so without access to the still living plant itself, it would be nigh impossible to provide anyone with the necessary dosages upfront, or guarantee the availability of future ingredients to see the process through to completion.

As for Taiyi ZhuShen, he acknowledged all of Taduk’s theories and Suzhen’s arguments without ever addressing them, more excited that it could be done as opposed to worrying about the ‘paltry details’ of expenditures, effectiveness, and efficacy, details which were most relevant to Nian Zu. Even if it couldn’t give him a body of steel, he was at the age where he would do anything to slow the steady decline of his physical body for just a few years longer. Du Min Gyu also exhibited keen interest in the process, though oddly enough, the western Healer Taokang Geyan had little to add to the conversation. After a moment of study, Nian Zu saw why, as he noticed the Healer casting furtive glances towards the door where a familiar face stood waiting to come in.

Gao Liang was the name he used now, and if his complexion wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the massive weighted staff in his hands all but screamed his origins. Nian Zu was one of a few who knew his actual name was Gao Changgong, fugitive Major General of the West, and now he suspected Taokang Geyan knew it too. Except the Healer didn’t look surprised or worried to see his old countryman, one who was presumed dead or Defiled by the general public, but had in fact escaped from the West using a stolen submersible fleet, one the Enemy had been using to smuggle goods in and out of the North. When their presence was discovered, Rain granted Gao Changgong and every soldier and citizen who escaped with him clemency from the Imperial Mandate, clemency the boy had no authority to grant as either Minister of Finance or Legate of the outer provinces. An Imperial Mandate could only be countered by another Imperial Mandate, and Shen ZhenWu had not seen fit to leave his Imperial Seal with Rain.

At least now, Nian Zu understood how Gao Changgong got in touch with Rain and the Bekhai, through the portly Healer Geyan. Baatar had been understandably reticent to discuss Changgong’s circumstances, since others could not betray what they did not know, and while Nian Zu was Baatar’s most stalwart supporter, the Imperial Clan was nothing if not persuasive. As welcome as Changgong’s forces might have been, it was a great risk to take for not much gain, and if his true identity were to be revealed, it might bring the wrath of the Imperial Clan down upon Rain and the Bekhai, if not all of the outer provinces as well. Though the East had gone quiet of late, their shipments of coin and supplies arrived each month like clockwork, and while they provided no replacements for the Death Corps Guards and Royal Guardians who died in action, the monetary support showed they had yet to abandon the outer province for good.

A stance which might change if it became known that Falling Rain accepted tens of thousands of refugees from the West, almost a year after the Wall fell.

Gao Changgong – no, it would not do to accidentally call the man by the wrong name. Gao Liang’s arrival put a damper on the banquet affairs, as Baatar took notice and none-too-subtly left to meet him. Better if they used Sending to communicate, but the Domain set up to block Scrying and Concealed presences would also block Sendings originating outside the room from reaching inside and vice versa, so the Western refugee had no choice but to appear in person. Moving about the room for a better look, Nian Zu spotted another familiar face hiding behind Gao Liang, that of the hidden Expert, MuYang. A frightening man, not for his Martial Prowess which was still a complete mystery, or for the killing power he exhibited by shooting down the crazed Confessor using his unique Spiritual Weapon. According to Yuzhen, this unremarkable man was Falling Rain’s spymaster, and a frighteningly competent one at that, managing to evade her notice until he took action against the Confessor. Thus far, she’d been unable to uncover his history, though she had yet to go to Marshal Yo Jeung-Hun for assistance since doing so meant revealing one of Rain’s hidden weapons. What Yuzhen did know was that MuYang was responsible for the removal of Mother knows how many of Rain’s political opponents, and she suspected the man once worked with the Confessor himself, on account of the assumed grudge between them. Whether by hook or by crook, MuYang kept abreast of any and all news across the outer provinces, and if there was something he didn’t personally know about, it wouldn’t take him long to learn if needed. The man had more secrets squirrelled away than Du Yi had passed over to Yuzhen, and MuYang’s list covered North, South, and Central. If he were of a mind to use his contacts for personal gain, Yuzhen believed he could take the coveted Office of Marshal from any province of his choosing, all without any support besides that which he compelled. Only his own faith and conscience kept him from acting in so selfish a manner, and his fervent dedication to Falling Rain made young BoShui seem aloof and disinterested in comparison.

“Colonel General.” Baatar’s Sending shook him from his thoughts, and the tone boded poorly for the future. “You should come hear this.”

MuYang and Gao Liang had followed Baatar back inside the banquet hall, though both stayed near the doors and out of the way in case anyone should have need to speedily enter or exit. As Nian Zu arrived, he felt a Sound Barrier reform around him and added one of his own, just to be sure. “What is the problem?”

“The West stirs.” Gao Liang was the one who replied, but even Nian Zu could see that he only spoke with MuYang’s prompting. “Defiled be gathering in numbers greater than ever before, with supplies enough to see them through a long campaign. Whatever compelled the Enemy to fall silent has been dealt with, and now they turn their attentions East once more.”

Pleasant as the man’s lyrical lilt might be, Nian Zu’s stomach dropped at this news. The days of peace had been filled with anything but as he dealt with internal conflicts and avoided anything to do with the Society, but now, all those issues might be put on hold once more. “How long?” he asked, wishing they’d made better use of this short respite. “How much time do we have before they attack.”

“Could be days, could be weeks.” Shrugging, Gao Liang looked to MuYang for help and then quickly looked away, the novice mouthpiece giving away the spymaster’s influence. Even a storied Major General like Gao Changgong had been cowed by MuYang, which meant there was far more to the man than even Nian Zu had suspected. “However, this Gao believes the Enemy will attack sooner rather than later, and when they do come, signs point towards their efforts being directed towards a single, concentrated attack.”

So the Enemy was done playing around and finally making a push into Central proper. With luck, the Defiled would attack a contested portion of the Wall and force two provinces to respond and defend, but Nian Zu feared for the worst. Even if the Enemy attacked a single Citadel, the forces from one province alone might not be enough to hold out against them, but would the other provinces respond to a call for assistance? Would Nian Zu? Should he cut his losses now, and just simply retreat?

When did Nian Zu become a man who stood idly by and waited for others to do what needed to be done?

Yes. When did he become so timid and scared? If the outer provinces need uniting, then he would unite them or die trying. He was a Martial Warrior, a Chosen son of Heaven, one whose holy purpose was to stand against the Enemy. It mattered not if others would not stand with him, because he would not run and consign others to a fate worse than death. “It appears the banquet must proceed without us,” he said, Sending word to Yuzhen, BoHai, and Jia Yang to join him. “For there is much work to be done.”

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

When in doubt, a Natal Soul is always the right answer.

Well, perhaps not the right answer, but a right answer, in that it buys me time to figure out what the real right answer is. Thanks to my Teacher’s efforts, my physical body is hale and healthy as can be and I can no longer remain comatose, but I’ve been left free to subsist within the call centre of the Void because I ceded control of my body over to a blank Natal Soul. Yea, I know, I should try new things, but if it ain’t broke, why fix it? With autopilot on, I don’t have to worry about tending to my physical needs, and as an added bonus, I can test the waters and maybe find out if the world is real or imagined. There’s no chance of Zhen Shi or his soul puppets getting in, not as long as I keep isolating myself in the Void, and as long as I remember to expel the Natal Soul and replace it with a new one every now and then, I won’t develop a split personality either.

Probably. Maybe. I dunno. If the world isn’t real, who knows what all the rules really are...

Technically, time shouldn’t have anything to do with the Natal Soul becoming self aware and developing a personality. It’s more to do with me and my own perceptions, subconscious though they might be. In expecting the Natal Soul to gain sentience and independence, I pretty much set it on the path of a self-fulfilling prophecy in that it will become a split personality, all because I expect it to and the Energy of Heavens makes it so. I still don’t entirely get how it works, because even with limited omniscience, I couldn’t render the information down into understandable concepts. It’s like trying to teach a monkey quantum physics. A really smart monkey might learn how to count and speak in sign language, but you can’t really teach it abstract numbers or whatever else you might need for higher level math.

And me? I’m the monkey. Or worse. I mean, I used to work in a call centre. What do I know about higher level physics?

The monitor’s dark screen remains blank and unresponsive, while my phone sits silent for once. I’ve filtered out all temptation from reaching me, and I’ve even managed to keep from checking it for a good amount of time. At least it feels like it’s been a good amount of time, but I’ll never be sure until I check. The fact that I am aware of all this already means I’m failing to proceed along the Noble Eight-fold Path and find oblivion, but what else is new? I never was very good at doing things right, so why would I expect things to be any different in here?

Don’t get so heated. Out with the bad emotions. Out with the good.

Don’t check the phone. Stay true to your goal.

Don’t check the phone. All it brings is pain and misery.

Don’t check the phone. Emptiness within. Emptiness without.

Don’t check the phone.

I check the phone. More snoot selfies, which I absolutely adore. You’d think I’d gain an immunity to cuteness after scrolling through hundreds of pictures of Mama Bun from the same awkward angle, but it hits me as hard as it ever did, if not harder. The more I see her, the stronger the urge to hold her grows, but I must stay strong and reject her requests for a face to snoot meeting. I’d feel like the biggest idiot in the world if I let Zhen Shi lure me out with snoot selfies. I might go full Demon just from the shame alone, though something tells me the old monster does not want that. He wants my body, and not in the happy fun times way, which would be bad enough. No, he wants Falling Rain as his meat puppet, and all the power and influence that comes with it, though personally, I feel like he’d be wasting his time. I was never vital to any plans or anything, and I’m sure the Empire is doing fine without me. I left Luo-Luo in charge and she has all the right people around her, not to mention all the competent Marshals and Colonel Generals ready to pick up the slack.

Judging by her messages, Luo-Luo’s doing alright. Yan, Mila, Song, and Lin-Lin too, though they could be better and all miss me very much. Yea, even Song, which is weird, because I thought she only tolerated me, but apparently she appreciated the little things I tried to do for her, even though she should rightly detest me for my power over her. The strange thing is, none of them are concerned I’ll never recover, even after ‘I’ woke up as a blank slate. They just think it’s only a matter of time before I regain full control of all my faculties, and even quarrel amongst themselves for the right to tend to my needs. Well, not Song, but she does more than her fair share, since Luo-Luo is busy elsewhere, Yan and Mila take daily trips to the bamboo grove, and Lin-Lin is Lin-Lin, as flighty and easily distracted as always.

Their hopes and expectations are like a dagger through my chest, because I will ultimately end up disappointing them. It doesn’t help that my Core has been mended and I am a Martial Warrior once more, not quite where I was moments before I shattered my Core, but on the Path towards a full recovery. It’s fascinating to watch the mending process in action, because it answers so many questions I never even thought to ask. As my Core mended, I noticed flaws in the process, flaws in my soul which, if left unfixed, would have left me stuck at Core Formation for years to come, if not decades. Flawed as it was, my Core would have been left unable to withstand the... increased pressure, for lack of a better word, or perhaps the metaphysical weight that comes with each successive milestone along the Martial Path. That’s how other Martial Warriors get stuck, because their Cores and souls are lacking. How would someone even fix that though? Mine was flawed because I’ve been chopping pieces off willy nilly, though to be fair, my soul is much stronger than your average soul on account of my Devouring. That’s all Spectres really are, after all, bits and pieces of severed souls given agency by the Energy of the Heavens. All the Natal Souls I cast off are also Spectres of a sort, though conceived for a different purpose and devoid of ill-intent, intent given to them by their creator.

Not always on purpose, though I suspect Zhen Shi provides more than a little ill-intent himself. I should’ve made better use of my limited omniscience when I had it, but I’m not really tempted to use it more either, because... I dunno. When connected to the Heavens, I feel less like me, less like a person, and more... detached. I don’t like that.

As I go through all the messages, I discover it’s been less than a day since I last checked in, which is actually a new record. Woo. I suck at this. My family and loved ones are in the midst of a new year’s banquet, one held to celebrate my recovery. ‘I’ woke up a few days ago, but this is the first time I’ve been out in public for weeks now, and everyone is beside themselves with joy. Luo-Luo is also hard at work crafting rumours for our political rivals to hear, things like how I might actually be wholly recovered and stronger than ever, but hiding it to bait my opponents into acting rashly. She’s a brilliant woman, and Noodle is longer and thinner than when I last saw him, so things are going great. Mom and Akanai have taken her under their wings and treat her like a daughter, just as I knew they would. They’ll all be fine. I’m not really needed.

Which of course is the perfect time for Nian Zu to chime in otherwise.

Seeing a message I left for him, I idly wonder when I sent it. I must be helping without even noticing now, so used to creating new Natal Souls to do whatever it is that needs to be done. I see this potentially coming back to bite me in the ass, so maybe I should be more careful about what I do, but Nian Zu’s concerns leave me more conflicted than ever. Am I really needed? Is my presence as a figurehead really so vital? Why isn’t the Imperial Clan doing anything about this crisis? Should I send a Natal Soul to check? Bad idea probably. Better to focus my efforts on delaying the Defiled offensive some more.

As I set my mind to this work, I stumble across the answer to a question I have yet to ask. After so many weeks of self-mutilating my soul, how is it I still have soul left to sever?

Because love is good for the soul, and my family, floofs, and friends have been providing plenty of it.

A sentiment which makes me simultaneously feel both better and worse. Better for knowing I have their love, or at least, the illusion of it which is almost as good, and worse for abandoning them without even saying goodbye. I wish I had the courage and determination needed to risk finding out if they are real or imagined, but I fought the good fight for as long as I could, and I can’t do it anymore. Trials and tribulations without end? Wrong. Can’t lose if you don’t play, and I already quit. It’s gg no re, so I might as well just close the phone and get back to my journey towards oblivion.

Right after the new year’s celebration comes to an end. Everyone looks so happy and relieved, it won’t hurt to watch just a little more...

Chapter Meme