Savage Divinity

Stirring awake in the early morning light, Mila basked in the warmth and comfort of her husband’s embrace. Nuzzling closer to kiss his collarbone, she gave a soft sigh and ran her fingers down his chest, admiring how much he’d filled out in recent weeks. On their wedding night, he’d been a sight to behold, a slim, yet taut figure with a chiselled body resulting from months of gruelling physical training, a peak human physique which he strove hard to maintain. That said, it was clear his body had been stretched to its limits, like an overloaded rucksack bursting at the seams. His muscles were rock hard and had little give even when relaxed, and there were often drastic changes in his day to day condition depending on how much food and water he took in. He’d also had almost no body fat whatsoever, which was likely why he was always cold, and his mood shifted greatly whenever he grew hungry or tired.

Such were the costs associated with maintaining a body at the peak of human efficiency, but Martial Warriors were more than human, and Rain had once again joined their ranks. Ten weeks after the battle for the second line and fifty-seven medicinal baths later, his physique had much improved, though the changes were subtle and difficult to notice without an intimate grasp of his body from before and after. At first glance, almost nothing had changed, but she could feel the supple give in his muscles again, denoting his limits had risen and he once again had room to improve. His skin was healthier too, soft and smooth after having lost the faint sheen of oil and grime which adhered to him as a commoner, his pores shrunken and sealed away once more. Why Martial Warriors would be naturally cleaner, Mila couldn’t say, but there was a marked difference between commoners and Martial Warriors, one Rain had bridged once more. Also absent was the faint musk of a night’s sweat and soured morning breath, two things she was glad to do without as she snuggled in and breathed deep, savouring the feel of his body pressed against hers and the soothing herbal scent of his soft, kissable skin.

“Careful now.” Yan’s teasing tone ripped away the last vestiges of slumber from Mila’s mind as the devilish woman perched her chin atop Rain’s chest. “You sound hungry enough to devour him whole, but I’d much rather you shared.” Cheeks colouring at the insinuation, Mila’s mind raced backwards through time to catalogue all the embarrassing, appreciative noises she’d made before remembering Yan was there too, but there were far too many to keep track of. Grinning from ear to ear, Mila’s sister-wife turned her gaze to drink in Rain’s slumbering form, and Mila wondered if she herself had worn such a voracious expression. “I can’t blame you though,” Yan murmured, kissing his chest with a simpering sigh. “He looks delicious enough to eat.”

That he did. It wasn’t that Rain was ever ugly, just that his flaws had all but disappeared save for one, the minor yet significant fact that he wasn’t all there, mentally speaking. Awakened by Yan and Mila’s discussion, Rain laid in bed and stared at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, utterly motionless save for the rise and fall of his chest. Propping herself up on one elbow, Mila studied his expression alongside Yan and prayed for a miracle, hoping against all hopes that his eyes would focus and he’d smile at them both before making some lewd comment or suggestion. She was so desperate for his recovery she might even go along with it, so long as his requests remained within reason, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw him stir beneath the covers. Alas, it was only her imagination, so she kissed him on the cheek and slid out of bed to get ready for the day.

In contrast, Yan shamelessly stayed in bed and even slid over to straddle Rain, but judging by her disappointed huff, it was clear he didn’t rise to the occasion. Mila’s sister wife had adapted to their new sleeping arrangements much faster than she had, especially considering Mama was back from training her Stormguards and staying in a room across the courtyard, not to mention how Papa and all of Mila’s in-laws had been here all the while. It wasn’t that she was doing anything to be ashamed of, seeing as Rain was her husband and wasn’t responding to any stimulation, but she still found it difficult to look anyone in the eyes after coming out of Rain’s room every morning. Not so with Yan however, who was more than happy to make lewd jokes while stripping his clothes and testing the limits of his self-awareness, all before striding out bold as can be with a twinkle in her eye. It was her idea to have them both stay with him overnight after she noticed him wake up and use the bathroom unprompted, but unfortunately, even laying in bed naked with both his wives did nothing to bring his mind back from wherever it’d gone off to.

Nor did any of the other imaginative tests Yan had them try.

It wouldn’t be so bad if his lack of response didn’t make Mila feel like she lacked appeal, or how her expectations left her frustrated to no end. This was a strange affliction which beset him now, his body in fine health and Core seemingly repaired once more, but he had yet to regain all his mental faculties. There were odd, arbitrary limits to what he could and could not do, like his ability to use the bathroom without making a mess, while remaining wholly oblivious to his wives’ advances. If someone sat him down at a table and placed a bowl and chopsticks in his hands, he would eat without need for supervision, but only so long as there was food in his bowl. Even if they stacked a plate to the rafters with all his favourite foods, his chopsticks would continue grasping at nothing in his bowl instead of taking something off the plate. What’s more, if they were to place an apple in his hand, he would hold it until it turned brown and rotted, even if he starved to death in the process, which was perplexing to say the least. He could drink from a bowl and cup on his own, but not from any other receptacle without assistance, and Mother knows they’d tried. At least this meant they could easily keep track of how much water he drank and prompt him to visit the bathroom at regular intervals, lest he randomly relieve himself in the courtyard or somewhere else equally embarrassing.

That was about the extent of his cognizance, eating, urinating, and defecating, which left much to be desired. What’s more, these arbitrary limits had no rhyme or reason to them, for it was not solely base instincts he responded to, but a select subdivision of them. It would’ve made more sense if he responded to all stimuli in an instinctive manner, like he had on the battlefield in Sinuji, but this was even less than that. It was as if his mind had decided to handle only that which was absolutely necessary for continued survival, but only accounted for a select few scenarios which he might encounter, and forgot about everything else. A strange affliction to say the least, but any progress was good progress.

Hope is poisonous. Accept the facts. He might never recover, leaving you to tend to a cripple husband until his death frees you from your marriage vows...

By the time Mila was dressed and ready in her light silk shift, Yan had finally slipped out from under the covers, utterly unabashed of her nudity as she threw on the outfit Eun left out for her last night. Aside from splashing water on her face and running her fingers through her hair, that was about the sole extent of her morning preparations, and Mila mildly resented her sister wife for looking so good with such minimal effort while struggling with her hairbrush in front of the mirror. Noticing her chagrin, Yan grinned and wrapped Mila in a warm embrace. “That’s the price you pay for looking gorgeous,” she said, gesturing at the hairbrush with her chin. “Though I think you still have plenty of charm even with your hair all tangled and mussed. You could drive everyone wild with your natural, messy, ‘just-woke-up’ look matched with your tired scowl.” Tugging at Mila’s shift to expose a pale, freckled shoulder, Yan added, “And you should’ve seen the way Rain’s eyes bulged whenever he caught a glimpse of your bared skin. Unconscionable is what it is. How am I supposed to compete?”

Warmed by the incorrigible woman’s attempt to cheer her up, Mila pressed her temple to Yan’s and feigned a scowl. “As if you don’t know the effect your swaying hips have on him. I don’t know how you manage to walk like that without tripping over your own feet.”

Eyes lighting up in devilish delight, Yan replied, “I could teach you. Now wouldn’t that be a sight to see, Rain toppling over as all the blood drains from his head and rushes down to his - ”

“Yan!”

“Don’t ‘Yan’ me, Mila, you’re a married woman now, not some fair maiden without an inkling of what happens between the bed sheets.”

“That doesn’t mean we need to talk about it like drunken sailors on shore leave.”

“Even the most hard-bitten sea-dog would blush hearing about your exploits.”

“And they’d go running back to their ships after hearing of yours.”

Their good-natured banter came to an abrupt end as the bed-sheets stirred, raising both their hopes to unrealistic heights only for them to come crashing down as Ping Ping, Mama Bun, and Guai-Guai emerged from under the covers at the foot of the bed. Usually, Mama Bun slept splayed across Rain’s chest, but according to Yan, Mila kept jostling the poor rabbit in her sleep and Mama Bun had since retreated to nuzzle with the turtle and red panda. While Yan helped Ping Ping off the bed so as not to damage the floorboards, Mila caught Guai-Guai after he launched himself into her arms. The sullen red-panda’s mood had much improved in recent weeks, which was ironic considering his name was a homonym for ‘surly’, though Song, who chose the name, insisted it was meant to be the ‘guai’ from ‘well-behaved’. Mila was still torn about how to treat this beast of mysterious origins, but his adorable antics were beginning to grow on her. Perhaps Guai-Guai was Guan Suo reborn, but the way she saw it, this rebirth was akin to taking a rusted sword, melting it down, and reforging a new sword in its place. Though created from the same materials, enough work had gone into the process to consider it a new sword, just as Guai-Guai was a newborn red panda, and not her reincarnated progenitor.

It helped that Guai-Guai was just so darned cute, rubbing his eyes and yawning while cuddled in her arms, and looking grumpy all the while.

As for Mama Bun, she resumed her post atop Rain’s chest and stared at his face, her nose almost touching his as she watched and waited for a sign. At first, everyone thought it was because she was so distraught, but now, they weren’t so sure anymore. There was a purpose to Mama Bun’s vigilant scrutiny, one beyond mere mourning, and not just because she didn’t seem all that sad, only confused and frustrated, emotions Mila understood well. Meeting her sister wife’s gaze, they came to a silent agreement as Mila threw on a wool coat, lifted Mama Bun off the bed, and led Ping Ping outside while Yan got Rain ready for the day and no doubt teased him some more. Well, perhaps tease was the wrong word, and it was better to say she was attempting to elicit a response instead, but either way, her bold actions made Mila’s cheeks colour with embarrassment even as her heart yearned to try the same. The tests never got very far despite Yan’s obvious willingness to do so, but she refused to go ahead without an obvious response, and thus far, Rain had failed to even bat an eye, much less demonstrate enthusiasm for any of Yan’s shameless propositions.

In fact, that was the whole reason she suggested they share Rain’s bed together, and it took Mila three days of discussion to convince her that adding Luo-Luo into the mix wouldn’t change a thing, much less Sorya, Anrhi, Song, Lin-Lin, or anyone else Yan could think of. She was much more open about sharing Rain than Mila was, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

If there were a silver lining to Rain’s extended coma, it was that it allowed Mila, Yan, Lin-Lin, and Luo-Luo to bond over shared hardships and become closer than ever. A great benefit to ensure a lasting, multi-partner marriage, one made all the easier since they weren’t competing for their husband’s affections. As evidence of their strengthened bonds, Mila stopped in to gently wake Luo-Luo and remind her of their plans for the day, and even helped the fussy woman with her hair and clothing without growling or snapping. A good thing Luo-Luo eschewed makeup for the day, else Mila might well have starved to death before she was ready to leave the room.

Okay, so there was still work to be done to strengthen their relationship, and not at all because Mila was afraid Rain would fall head over heels in love with the beautiful and charming Luo-Luo and forget all about his other wives...

Outside, they met up with Yan, Li-Li, and a half-asleep Lin-Lin clinging fast to her hubby’s arm, while Blackjack softly snored from between her ears. Dressed in a warm wool overcoat, Rain cut a dashing figure in the courtyard while the animals took turns trying to gain his attention, but alas, they had no more success than Mila did. A good thing too, because if he woke up to pet the animals after ignoring the great lengths she and Yan had gone to, she might well beat him bloody until he lapsed back into another coma.

Beset by a fit of giggles, Lin-Lin offered a sleepy smile and said, “Mi-Mi and Guai-Guai have both matching tails and scowls.”

“Well, you and Blackjack have matching snores.”

“Liar.” Holding her head up high, the half-hare declared, “I don’t snore.”

Pinching Lin-Lin’s soft cheeks as she chimed in, Yan smiled and said, “You most definitely do. Like a reed whistling in the wind, adorable, but evident.”

“Li-Li, I’m being bullied.” Eyes wide in mock sadness, Lin-Lin asked, “Do I really snore?”

“...Very daintily.”

Lin-Lin’s mock woeful expression of betrayal had the rest of them laughing, and even Li-Li cracked a faint smile, no doubt utilizing her miraculous Aura to show Lin-Lin her love. Despite having known as much, it still surprised Mila to learn just how emotive Li-Li could really be. In fact, this was the reason why she was ‘Li-Li’ now, as opposed to ‘Song’, because Mila realized her sister preferred the girlish appellation after she kept using her Aura to express it. There was so much hidden behind Li-Li’s stony expression, and now the Mother Above had enabled her to share how she felt in a way she was familiar with. A small miracle to be sure, compared to everything else that took place during that fateful battle, but a miracle nonetheless, and Mila was thankful for this blessing.

Despite being a woman grown with her own household to maintain, Mila was still her mother’s daughter and not yet a competent adult, but also wise enough to know that she couldn’t always rely on her parents to handle everything. As such, she cherished Mama’s efforts all the more as she helped her pack and prepare for their day trip out, just a quick jaunt through the city market before heading out to the bamboo grove. According to Luo-Luo, it was imperative Rain show his face in public, even if it was while wearing a slack, empty expression. Better the people of the Empire think him tired and moody than unhealthy and unresponsive, the latter of which they could easily hide by limiting the ability for anyone to speak with him. Eventually though, he would have to meet with the other Colonel Generals lest they grow irate about Nian Zu’s monopoly over his time, but Luo-Luo was more than able to keep all of them in line with flattery and excuses.

Linking arms with her sister and the formidable Imperial Servant, Mila brought Guai-Guai out as she followed Rain, Lin-Lin, and Yan through the market and marvelled at how well the half-hare drew attention away from him. It was amazing how well she was holding up in the face of adversity, especially now that the new year had come and gone, which was when she and Rain were supposed to be wed. Poor Lin-Lin, and poor Luo-Luo too, who knew when they would say their vows with Rain? No matter. In Mila’s eyes, they were Rain’s wives in almost every way that mattered, as they’d both shown their determination to stand by his side, through thick and through thin.

They’re the lucky ones, in love with but not married to a cripple. They’re still free to seek other options, as she should, since there was no knowing if or when Rain would ever recover...

Spotting two racks of jewelled veils and sheer shawls at a merchant’s stall, Mila’s cheeks coloured as she stopped to admire them. “During his first visit to Shen Huo,” she said, narrating for Li-Li and Luo-Luo’s sake, “Lin-Lin dragged me and Rain off to go shopping. I thought he was just a big nuisance back then, a silly boy who asked too many questions, one Lin-Lin was all too enamoured with. I got annoyed for some reason or another and started doing my best to ignore them, while also wanting them to notice me ignoring them. I ended up staring a little too hard at an outfit just like these, and Rain made the mistake of suggesting it would look lovely on me.”

“Oh dear.” Luo-Luo immediately caught on, and explained for Li-Li’s sake. “These are southern dancing shawls, worn by wives dancing for their husbands, a dance in which the woman... loses her veil and shawl as it progresses. The more elaborate outfits can have as many as twenty-seven articles of clothing, but for most, two is more than enough.”

Nodding in comprehension, Li-Li cocked her head and asked, “What happened next?”

“I punched him in the face and stormed off in a huff.” Cheeks colouring as she shot Rain a sheepish glance, Mila explained, “When I was a little girl, I found one of these outfits in Mama’s closet and she said it was special clothes mommies wore for daddies, and I didn’t figure it out until I was older. When Rain suggested I would look lovely in one, he didn’t know what they were for, and thought it was just something to wear out in public over regular clothes.” While Luo-Luo hid her smile behind shock and Li-Li shared her amusement through Aura, Mila bit her lip and stared fondly at Rain’s back, remembering how when she finally got around to apologizing, he’d already forgiven and forgotten all about it. There were times when she wondered how in the Heavens he put up with her foul temper and fiery moods, especially with Yan, Lin-Lin, and Luo-Luo so deeply in love with him. When Mila told him about Mama’s intention to betroth them, Mila even had the gall to tell Rain she wasn’t all that interested in marrying him and handing him a list of qualities she expected her future husband to adhere to.

And Rain stuck to every single one, aside from the whole ‘no more love interests’, but in his defence, he was a fool who fell in love all too easily. Why else would he have fallen in love with Mila herself?

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

The hateful phone lights up and before I know it, I’m already checking its contents, having set it up to only alert me for the most important messages, including anything that had to do with my behaviour. The problem with leaving a Natal Soul to pilot my fleshly remains is that I have no idea if or when said Natal Soul will become self-aware and ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve. Oblivion awaits, but my goal seems further than ever as I once again delve deep into the red dust of the mortal world, and for what? Snoot selfies and a false positive.

But one worthy of attention. Mila, my sweet, strong, confident wife, reminiscing on times long past and succumbing to grief and melancholy, wishing I would look her in the eyes the way I used to, with a gaze full of warmth, love, and affection. I always knew she had her fair share of doubts and insecurities, but I never knew just how deep they ran. How can she wonder if I even love her, or love her as much as I love the others? If this is a test or a trick, then I have to hand it to Zhen Shi, because he’s learned how to push my buttons to inflict maximum pain. This hurts almost as much as seeing her die, because I love Mila more than words could ever describe, and now I know my actions failed to convey the depths of my affection. I knew my absence would hurt the people I left behind, but this is too much. I thought Mila knew how much I love and cherish her, but what words could I type here to tell her as much? None. I cannot imagine a life without her, because she is the sun in my sky, fiery and temperamental, yet warm and nurturing at the same time. The red string of fate ties us together, and has from the first breath we took as husband and wife, to when she breathed her last on the fields of Central. I am nothing without her, nothing without Yan, Lin-Lin, and so many others, an abject failure who cannot stand alone. Easier to believe it was all a lie and that I never left the mines than to risk discovering my loved ones alive only to lose them again.

After what I experienced, how can I ever be sure enough to differentiate between reality and illusion? Did I even live the life of Falling Rain? Or was that another dream shown to me by Zhen Shi, the great life he allows me to remember so that he might later use to lure me out of hiding and back to my life in the mines? Did I really marry Mila and Yan? Was I really the Number One Talent of the Empire? Did I even escape the slave mines, or was it all a wonderful, blissful dream, one concocted by an exhausted mind between bouts of backbreaking labour? I’ve been here in the void so long with nothing but memories, memories I’ve long since shed all emotion of, so how am I supposed to know if the love I feel is real or the product of imagination?

Does it matter? Whether my memories are real or imagined, whether the people out there are alive or dead, the pain I feel here and now is real enough, and I desperately wish for an end to my suffering.

So what do I do? Mila is hurting and doubting the depths of my love. Is she wrong to? Here I sit in the void, while she and everyone else I love wait for my return. Yan works hard to put on a brave and happy face, but inside, she’s hurting just as much as Mila is, worried she’ll lose all that she holds dear. Not just me, but also the warm and loving family she only just married into, and the sisters she picked up along the way. Luo-Luo is stressing about public perception, wondering if anyone else can tell I’m not all there or if they just think I’m bored of shopping, all while corresponding with MuYang through Sending to manage the affairs of the outer provinces. Song’s concerns are fixed on her sister’s well being, wondering if there is anything she can do to raise Mila’s poor mood, one she’s been trapped in since I fell into a coma.

And then there’s Lin-Lin, bright, cheery, optimistic Lin-Lin, who is having a grand old time with everyone in the market. There are no regrets weighing heavily on her mind, no internalized worries gnawing away from within, no doubts for her to wrestle with, or concerns for her to dwell on. There is nothing there but the here and now, and she is happy as can be, hanging on my arm with most of her favourite people and animals gathered round. Despite knowing my condition, she speaks as if I am wholly in control of my faculties and not at all completely out of it, a ruse which works well since the merchants are too busy bowing their heads to ever look me in the dead eyes. “These smell so yummy hubby,” she says, as we stop at a grilled meat stall. “Twenty-four pork skewers please, with peanut and satay sauce.”

It’s just like her to buy one for everyone, even the Concealed guards whose presence she just gave away, but this doesn’t concern her. To Mei Lin, my sweet, straightforward wifey, this is just a regular day in the market with her beloved hubby, and that’s all it takes to make this a wonderful day. Food, clothing, trinkets for the pets, and more, she buys up anything and everything that catches her eye, all without forgetting to share. Not just with her family and loved ones either, but also with those less fortunate than she. Word spreads and soon enough, we have a trail of hungry children following in our wake, so Lin-Lin pays an entire street of food vendors to feed them while innocently wondering why people would rather let food go to waste than share with those in need. Unlike me, she doesn’t dwell on the expense, or try and come up with a better way to fix things, because she’s done her part, and she expects others will do the same.

This is just how my sweet wifey sees things, always focused on what’s in front of her at any given moment. Her upbeat and carefree attitude is what I love most about her, and I envy her for it at the same time. The world would be a much better place if we were all a little more like Lin-Lin, so why can’t I be more like her and less like me? How come I can’t just put aside my worries and enjoy life as much as she does? She’s never bothered to consider what she’ll do if I never come back, because in her eyes, I’m still right there by her side. Brimming with love and jealousy, I watch as she skips about from stall to stall with Blackjack nestled between her ears and Mama Bun in her arms, all the while clutching my hand tight and dragging me and Yan along on today’s adventure. Keeping an eye on the proceedings, I browse through the messages on my phone and catch up with everything I’ve wilfully ignored. Mom’s hopes are slowly eroding away despite her best efforts to cling to them, and Dad has long since come to terms with my possible death. It’s not that he doesn’t care, but he knows it is a part of life, and even if I remain as I am for another hundred years, he will love and care for me the whole while. Akanai is much the same, wondering how she will ever broach the subject with Mila about finding another husband and whether ten, twenty, or even thirty years would be too soon, while Husolt aches for his precious daughter and wishes he could do something, anything to make her pain go away. This is the effect my cowardice has on the people I love most. All I’ve done is cause them heartache, worry, and misery, all of which will linger and fester for as long as I exist. Perhaps it would’ve been better if I’d just died, but even with all my fear and regret, I cannot bring myself to end my life, because...

Because where there is life, there is hope, and it is this poisonous, treasonous hope which is the root of all misery.

Hope and regret prevent me from putting the phone down, because even if this life was a blissful illusion, I cannot leave my loved ones like this, but I also don’t know what else to do. I don’t get it, they should all be fine without me, so how come everyone is handling this so poorly? Why haven’t my Natal Souls been taking care of all this? They should've been telling Mila how much I love her, reassuring Yan that everything will be okay, helping Luo-Luo bear her burdens, and slowly encouraging Song to come out of her shell. Then there’s the rest of my family, who are still holding out, but not as well as they should be, which means something is wrong. Powering on the PC, I sit and wait as everything loads so I can see what’s going on out there in the real world, only to be greeted with a small icon in the bottom right of the screen, a tiny white globe with a red x across it. No connection detected, is what it says when I mouse over to check it, and the Energy of the Heavens refuse to answer my questions for me. What happened to my limited omniscience? Something’s changed since I secluded myself in the void, but what?

It’s not important. I didn’t need all that power anyways, because my Natal Souls are still connected internally. Sort of. I don’t know. They’re a part of me, and I can still track them down if need be, using the PC as my interface. Natal Soul 8,945,486 is the closest to my physical body, stuck close to Yan and explaining why she should give up hope. “Look at him,” the Natal Soul says, directing her gaze to my empty expression. “This is your husband, an empty shell of a man, one who draws breath yet is dead inside. What sort of life will you have with him? You once worried about sharing him, but now you should be happy to have others to help share this troublesome burden.”

All true, yet the guilt my Natal Soul’s words wrench up inside Yan pains me to the core, and I Devour it whole in a fit of rage, only realizing what I’ve done after the fact. More importantly, I also figure out what went wrong. This Natal Soul was not made with hope, love, and affection like my earlier creations, because after severing almost nine million souls worth of emotions while languishing in the void over the past ten weeks, it would appear I’ve run out of positive emotions to divest. Remorse and regret make up the bulk of what remains, of which 8,945,486 was chock full of and slowly poisoning Yan with the same. A mistake, and a grave one at that, as once again I have almost brought destruction down upon my family, for in my quest for nihility and oblivion, I have unleashed a host of Spectres upon the people I love most.

There are more of my Spectres hanging about Yan, Luo-Luo, Song, Mila, and the rest of my family, Spectres which I Devour without a second thought. Without my connection to the Energy of the Heavens, I am anchored to my physical body and unable to go too far beyond, but thanks to my many medicinal baths, my Core is whole once again and wholly in tune with my Soul. Seizing authority from the Heavens, I unleash my Domain and Devour every Spectre in the area, whether they be success or failure. Guard Leader is the first to notice, followed by Akanai, Grandpa Du, and the rest, and all of a sudden, our little jaunt through the market comes to a crashing halt as they all scramble to get me into my carriage and out of sight.

My phone buzzes as a flood of hope and optimism swells up from within my gathered loved ones, but I am not yet ready to answer them. Instead, I continue working to fix the errors of my ways and try to figure out what went wrong. Obviously in trying to divest myself of all emotions, I skewed too far over to the negative side, with my subconscious deciding it was best to convince everyone else to give up on me so I could move on in peace. All without noticing, I might add, mostly because I was so engrossed in escaping from pain and suffering. Problem is, I can’t sever ties with this life, real or imagined, if I leave it worse off without me, because that would be irresponsible. I just don’t have it in me, so what should I do next? Do I persevere with my efforts to achieve nihility and stay here in the void, seeking oblivion while knowing everyone I love and hold dear might be suffering from my efforts to leave them all behind, or do I abandon my Path, return to the world of the living, and risk more pain and suffering when I discover it was all another lie?

Or better phrased, do I risk myself for the people I love, or remain a selfish coward hiding from all my problems?

Bereft of Heavenly Energy to guide me, the answer does not come so easily this time. I could split my Natal Soul again, infuse a singular portion with all the best parts of me and leave the worst behind here in the void, but how would this be any different from Baledagh and Brother? Well... actually, it would be worse, because they were still both basically me, just with differing levels of knowledge and neuroses. In this instance, however, neither Natal Soul would truly be me, because there is no person in the world who is comprised solely of positive emotions, or negative ones. Ignoring how annoying ‘good’ me would be, the Natal Soul left behind would be fundamentally no different from a Spectre, divested negative emotion kept prisoner within a severed portion of soul. Without the best parts of me to keep my darker nature in check, what’s to keep this negative Spectre on this path to oblivion? If its entire existence is misery, why would it care to wallow in this all on its own?

Is that why Spectres crave existence and a return to the world of the living? Because they also yearn to be happy, to be whole and feel love and affection once more. Isn’t that what we all want? To be happy?

I don’t know what I’ll do next, but one thing is for sure. Lin-Lin has the secret to happiness all worked out, while the rest of us mere mortals are still struggling to find our path.

Chapter Meme