Savage Divinity

“What a fascinating individual, a true paragon of creation.”

“A chance of a thousand lifetimes, to study someone like this. Truly we are blessed by Heaven.”

“This marks a new Path, one unlike anything we’ve ever seen or discussed...”

“All Paths are new, this one simply operates by different parameters.”

“Let us stay the course rather than squabble about semantics.”

“Agreed. Let us take a look at the similarities, such as physical symmetry and superiority.”

“Better if we focused on the differences, to better understand how this Path diverges from that which we know.”

“Plenty of time for that later. This discovery opens up a myriad of new avenues to pursue, though it begs the question of how we never encountered anything like this before.”

“And how exactly are we to quantify what ‘this’ is? We only see the end result and know nothing of the process itself.”

“A shame the subject lacks the ability to communicate... Imagine the headway we would make if not for –”

“Exercises in imagination do nothing to further our knowledge, only bolster pride and foster delusion. Reflect on your mindset Brother, lest you stray too far from the Eight-Fold Path.”

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.”

Sitting on a stone bench with Sarankho laid out across her lap, Song felt her hopes wane as she listened in on the Brotherhood’s discussion. When Monk Happy approached Mama to make his presence known and prepare for this eventuality, Song had hoped the Brotherhood would provide all the answers Rain needed to recover from his peculiar condition, but thus far, the monks had done little to live up to expectations. Putting aside the absurdity of sheltering an entire village of Defiled just outside the monastery gates, the monks didn’t even seem interested in questioning Rain, Lin-Lin, or anyone else who’d come with them. After showing them to their rooms, they were largely left to their own devices while the monks gathered outside in the stone courtyard to gush over the ‘fascinating paragon of creation’, Ping Ping.

Not to say she wasn’t an impressive and appealing creature; Song loved Ping Ping’s adorable expressions and her tiny form made it that much easier to hug her, but there was something about her previous appearance that seemed so much more... natural. Even without accounting for her lovable personality and miraculous powers, there were no other turtles quite like Ping Ping in the world, not physically at least. Lin-Lin even remarked on Ping Ping’s appearance at the time, declaring that the Guardian Turtle wasn’t pretty, with lumpy flesh and a pointy, scary looking head. This didn’t stop the daring half-hare from directly hopping onto Ping Ping’s head when the big girl came to investigate their camp, but Lin-Lin’s words were true. Ping Ping was an impressive beast, majestic and awe-inspiring in her glory, but few would care to call her beautiful.

More importantly though, no one expected her to be, not if they’d seen other examples of her species like Song had on the way to Ping Yao. An alligator snapping turtle, Rain called them, and there was no mistaking Ping Ping for anything else, as she had the same characteristics, albeit in far more menacing fashion. She had two tiny, beady eyes, a curved, hooked beak, rough, bumpy skin, and an irregularly spiked shell, all of which was magnified by the sheer mass of her ponderous bulk.

This was no longer the case however, not after her transformation, for Ping Ping was no longer immediately identifiable as an alligator snapper. Most of those defining features were gone now, and had been replaced with more... aesthetically pleasing ones, which made for an overall improvement in Song’s eyes, but also marked Ping Ping as a Divine Beast at first glance. Her beak was still there, but blunted and non-threatening, and her eyes were proportionally larger now making her pupils more evident within those golden pools of light, changed from the dark, almost black-brown shade they’d once been. Gone were all her rough edges and jagged spikes, leaving naught but smooth skin and rounded protrusions across her body and shell. The latter even lightened in colour, or perhaps the markings underneath were brighter and more visible now, because when the light hit her just right, it revealed a pleasing pattern of golden-brown symmetrical striations running through her seemingly solidly coloured shell.

She even had little fingers and toes now, albeit ones that were appropriate for a turtle, as opposed to the solid mass and jutting talons her hands and feet used to be, fingers she used to gently scratch the other animals at times or clutch a rabbit close to snuggle. Add to this the subtle shape of her mouth that hinted at the existence of lips without actually having any, and Ping Ping was a truly adorable creature, but far from a natural one despite not looking unnatural in any particular way. She was clearly still a turtle, but a unique variant one rather than the alligator snapper she used to be, one that almost seemed too cute to be real.

Perhaps sensing Song’s unease or fretful from all the strange attention, Ping Ping ambled over with her merry little gait, another marked change from her previous self’s trundling shuffle. Stopping in front of Song to raise her head in question, Ping Ping squeaked and unleashed an Aura of comfort overlaid with a bedrock of quiet anxiety intermingled with a hint of doubt and concern. “Should I be worried?” She seemed to ask, but it could also be, “Are you alright?”, or it was even possible Ping Ping was asking both at once. A marvellous thing, this Aura of emotions, and Song was slowly but surely beginning to understand the complexities behind it.

Responding with a focused Aura of calm and reassurance, she tried to convey that all was well, but added a light touch of vigilance at the end. All was well, but one should never let their guard down, not when visiting unfamiliar places. How much was lost in translation was difficult to say, but Ping Ping seemed to understand well enough as she turned about on the spot to take in all the monks, pulsing bursts of minor suspicion to ask which one of them she should be wary of. In answer, Song simply responded with the same suspicion, but not until Ping Ping was facing her again, so as not to implicate any singular monk. “Be wary of all of them,” Song wanted to say, but she was also unable to provide any feeling of justification, so she followed up with a sensation of relaxed comfort to add, “But no need to worry yourself too much.”

Suspicion was fine, but hostility a tad much, and Ping Ping struck the perfect balance in between. Casting one last questioning look at the monks, all of whom had quieted down to watch her in action, Ping Ping huffed and turned back to rub her chin against Sarankho’s furry neck, a gesture which the sweet wildcat leaned into. Patting both sweet girls on the head to complete the circle, Song belatedly noticed the smile sneaking across her face, an incident which happened more and more often of late. It used to be that her smiles felt awkward and unnatural, but she was getting used to the feeling the same way Ping Ping’s adorable appearance seemed strange and abnormal at first, but was now the new normal and it was the other alligator snapping turtles who looked strange in Song’s eyes. How she managed to keep all emotion out of her expression seemed like an impossible feat, because the moment she felt happiness stirring within her chest, she wanted to share it with her loved ones so that they might all be happy together. So she did, utilizing her Aura to express her feelings, a far more useful tool than words or actions, and seeing how everyone else responded to her Aura, she realized she’d been doing a terrible job showing her family how much she loved them.

There were so many things they did that made Song feel loved and appreciated, she hardly knew where to begin. Mama brushing her hair and making her breakfast every morning, Papa patting her head and checking to be sure she made it back to her room safe and sound, Sister Mila’s casual hugs of greeting and the way she leaned into Song for comfort and companionship, she loved all these things and more, yet it came as a complete surprise to everyone else to learn just how much she loved them. This Emotional Aura was a Heaven-sent blessing, far better than any Elemental Blessing she could have received, because while the increased Martial might would have been nice, sharing just how much she loved her family through Aura meant more than the world to her. Words just seemed so... inadequate, but after thinking it through these past few months, she concluded that while the Aura was convenient, she should also put more effort into showing her love through actions in order to reciprocate how Mama, Papa, and Sister Mila made Song feel.

Her foray into cooking ended in disaster, even though Papa ate every last bite of her terrible congee, and Sister Mila hated sitting still long enough for someone to properly brush her hair, but Song kept trying to show her love and appreciation for the both of them. As for Mama, it seemed strange to say this, but she seemed happiest when given the opportunity to do something for someone she loved, like brush and style Song’s hair, pick her outfit, or offer advice regarding the Martial Path. Mama had everything worked out in her own life, and derived joy from helping others do the same, so while Song worried she might be asking too much of her, Mama always insisted she was more than happy to do anything for her ‘precious daughter’.

Not to call her a liar, but Song very much wished Mama could use Emotional Aura as well, if only to confirm that she really meant it...

Glowering at her from below, Guai-Guai wrapped a furry paw around Song’s fingers and gave it a little tug, so weak and dainty it wouldn’t budge a teacup. Though the black and white markings on his face lent him a general air of irritability, the red panda was truly aggrieved this time, jealous that Sarankho was getting so much attention while he received none at all. There was a time when his tantrum would have been directed towards Ping Ping, but those days were gone now and Guai-Guai was fast becoming one of the most spoiled animals in Rain’s menagerie. His point made, he clambered up onto Sarankho’s back and stretched out by her neck, with his chin resting on top of Ping Ping’s beak while eyeing Song in expectant disgruntlement. “My head is here now,” he was saying, waiting on her response. “I demand you scratch it.”

It was amazing how perfectly Guai-Guai could convey his message without need for words or Aura. The other animals were able to do the same, but none, not even Ping Ping, were as adept as the red panda.

“How intriguing.” Squatting down to get a closer look at Guai-Guai and Ping Ping, Monk Happy studied them both with a critical eye. The man was clearly a Warrior of great skill, but he left his weapon by the monastery doors rather than carry it with him at all times. Granted, a polearm with a head reminiscent of a rounded shovel was hardly the most effective or awe-inspiring weapon, but much like Luo-Luo’s tendency to leave her sceptre behind, Song was at a loss to explain how the monk could just place his weapon aside like that. If she were to leave her sabre in the other room, she wouldn’t feel right, not because she didn’t feel safe necessarily, though she didn’t, not with so many Defiled living nearby. No, she needed her sabre with her at all times because only then did she feel complete, and even putting it out of arm’s reach left her shifty and uncomfortable. Even when she slept, she kept it leaning against her bed frame, resting in the side of her cot, or even laid out right beside her sleeping bag if camping out in the field.

Mama and Mila were the same way, and even Papa kept his staff handy at all times despite having had little chance to use it in the last fifty-odd years. Sister Yan, Teacher Du, Niece Alsantset, Charok, Tursinai, and Tenjin, all of them kept their Spiritual Weapons close to hand, and only Luo-Luo could be so forgetful as to leave hers behind, or so Song thought until recently when she noticed Rain forget his sword all the time. First, he left it in the field after his battle against the Wraiths, and though he visibly smiled when Mama returned it to him, he proceeded to barely pay his sword any mind for the next day. Sister Mila was worried he wouldn’t like leaving it out of sight, but she spent more than an hour making sure the hilt and pommel were perfectly attached, weighted, and wrapped while Rain wandered around the bamboo grove throwing Blackjack high into the air and catching him again. Everyone felt it when he finally registered what Sister Mila had done, as he emanated fond reminiscence and forlorn longing for long hours after she placed the finished weapon in his hands. However, upon returning to the District manor, he placed his sword down in the courtyard while playing with Aurie and somehow forgot all about its existence, a fact no one noticed until they were returning from the bamboo grove again the next day.

Were it not for Mila’s distress over not being able to find Rain’s sword, Song might never have noticed its absence, nor would she have noticed how Monk Happy left his weapon by the main doors. Prior to today, she didn’t even know the monk possessed a Spiritual Weapon, as she hadn’t seen him holding one at any point in time, not even when he joined them in Sinuji or when he travelled with them from the district manor. This raised an interesting question regarding how Monk Happy had the weapon in hand so quickly in order to fend off Rain’s attack, but having seen the cheerful, portly monk’s prowess, Song assumed he just kept it Concealed at all times when outside the monastery so as to keep others from judging him as a threat.

A strange folk, these monks of the Penitent Brotherhood, and Song was curious to see if they were truly as odd as the rumours would have her believe. Considering all the fanciful things she heard spoken about Rain, she was skeptical about the rumours, to say the least.

“This red panda,” Monk Happy asked, nimbly hopping back on his heels as Guai-Guai glowered at his intrusion. “It was not present when we last met, shortly after the Abbot returned from his conflict against our wayward Wisdom and Zhu Changzui.”

Unsure how much to give away, Song merely nodded and said, “His name is Guai-Guai.” And he was quite possibly Guan Suo reborn or his reincarnation. Hopefully the second one, as then it would be less strange, since a reincarnation meant it was not actually Guan Suo himself in a smaller, furrier form, but rather a whole new individual who merely shared the same soul, like a flower growing in a field was not the same flower that bloomed last year, or the year before that, despite sharing the same roots. “Mama unexpectedly brought him home one night, where he soon attached himself to Ping Ping’s side.” All true, if not the entire truth, but let someone else judge if the Brotherhood needed to know more.

Except who would make this decision if not Song herself? Naaran was lurking nearby, as Mama said he would be coming along for the journey to look after Rain, but other than that, Song might well be the next most responsible member of their little party, seeing how Guard Leader and her ilk had completely removed themselves from the conversation. They were here to ensure Lin-Lin’s safety, while Song and Rain’s safety were merely afterthoughts, and though Mama said she could trust them without fail, Song was unsure what to make of them. That being said, she was even less certain of the Brotherhood, so she hoped Monk Happy would not question her too much, but the man was quick to move on after studying Guai-Guai a little longer. “The Divine Turtle,” he began, and Song took him to mean Ping Ping as opposed to Pong Pong who she assumed was nestled in Mama Bun’s arms as the bunny slept in Rain’s lap. “She communicates with you via Aura?”

“In a limited fashion, yes.”

“And you respond in the same way?”

Song nodded, since there was no use hiding her ability to use Emotional Aura. Anyone familiar with the concept would be able to piece things together with a cursory examination of events during the withdrawal from Castle JiangHu, and she knew the monks were capable of using Emotional Aura themselves. In fact, she’d hoped to learn more about her Aura and how to properly utilize it, the same way those Demons terrorized Imperial soldiers and Irregulars on the battlefield. The use of such an Aura was clearly not widespread, for the Enemy kept it well hidden and unleashed it at a time when they thought they could use it to maximum effect. Were it not for the Heavens bestowing the secrets of Emotional Aura unto her there upon the battlefield, then those Demons most foul might well have overrun the battlefield and slaughtered Rain, Sister Mila, Sister Yan, Sister Alsantset, Sister-in-Law Sarnai, and many, many more.

Thankfully, the monk’s interest was not in how Song acquired her ability, but rather to confirm what she was doing, because after a moment of quiet concentration, Ping Ping responded to what Song assumed was Monk Happy’s introduction through Aura. Looking up from her head pats, the sweet girl let loose with a friendly squeak before ambling a few steps towards Monk Happy, whose smile widened in child-like glee as he offered her a handful of ripe berries, which she gobbled up with unrestrained relish.

An offering which then drew the attention of every bicorn bunny in the area, who proceeded to stampede in his general direction.

Though clearly not expecting the reaction, Monk Happy dealt with it gracefully and calmed the bunnies down with little more than a stern look. No, there was more to it, Song realized, for he’d used Aura to subdue them, not by scaring them into submission, but by promising that they would all get a share. It was clear as day to anyone who understood the rabbits as well as she did, for they all gathered in close and waited, with a few like George and Peanut even pressing their paws together and waving them up and down in supplication. Furry little beggars, as Rain put it, and Song found it adorably apt, for the little bunnies knew there was something delicious and that they lacked the strength to seize it for themselves. Thus, the only thing they could do was beg, and while Lin-Lin initially taught them this trick intending for it to represent a clasped fist of thanks, the bunnies shook their little paws so quickly it seemed more like pleading than anything else.

Song was hardly surprised by how quickly they responded to Aura, as even before sinking into this strange condition, Rain liked using his Aura to teach his pets. In fact, the first time he revealed his abilities was when he used it on Jimjam to correct him, an act Sister Mila and Song thought was monstrously cruel considering the wildcat’s inability to defend himself or even comprehend what was happening. Of course, Rain would never do such an inhumane thing and Sister Mila’s response was merely the knee-jerk reaction of someone who didn’t know there were other types of Aura. That being said, Monk Happy’s use of Aura on the bunnies was suspiciously fast, even for a Warrior as deceptively strong as he. It lacked any and all hesitation whatsoever, used with almost no thought put into the action beforehand, and seeing how he did not strike her as a cruel or inhuman man, it stood to reason that he’d used his Aura on animals before.

Likely Kukku, though apparently there were two more similar such beasts, a tiger and a panda bear. Glancing at Princess wrestling with Banjo and Baloo, Song idly wondered how a regular panda would fare in a match against the weasel-bear, as despite being about one-third their size, Princess was clearly the strongest bear out of the bunch, with sweet Guai-Guai ranking dead last.

“You see much and say little, Sentinel Song,” Monk Happy intoned, doling out handfuls of berries to the bunnies as if they were grains of rice rather than what she assumed were Spiritual Fruits. The Brotherhood had their own secrets, which Song was happy to let lie considering they had yet to ask anything about Healer Taduk’s bamboo grove. “A useful trait in most circumstances, but this monk would ask for your thoughts, if you would so care to share them.”

A trap with which to trick her into revealing more than she should? Or was he wondering if he’d done something wrong in feeding the bunnies? Some people seemed to think Song’s lack of expression signified displeasure, and while she thought Monk Happy knew her well enough not to make this mistake, one could never be too sure. Even Mama and Sister Mila couldn’t always shake this same suspicion, something they each separately revealed to Song in passing while remarking on how often she expressed herself through Aura.

It was the only way she really knew how, because Aura was a part of the Martial Path, which until recently was the only constant in Song’s life that she could rely on.

“The Abbot mentioned a panda,” she said, a small smile slipping across her face as Monk Happy’s widened in amusement. “May I meet him or her?”

The first time they truly spoke with one another, she asked to meet Kukku, but unfortunately, the rooster was not so willing. She suspected the panda was the same, but it didn’t hurt to ask, and Monk Happy shook his head and bowed in mock apology, just like he did the first time. “Apologies Sentinel Song, but we of the Brotherhood do not keep the animals as pets so as not to unduly affect their Path.” Glancing at Kukku who was trying to entice Rain to play hide and seek, Monk Happy sighed and added, “Though I fear that ship has long since set sail.”

Having discovered the generosity of these bald, robed strangers, Ping Ping, the rabbits, and the laughing birds set off to introduce themselves to the monks of the Brotherhood, all of whom had some gift or another for the darling animals. Not everyone had Spiritual Fruits to share, but even a greeting Aura was enough to set the bunnies feet to hopping, the darling creatures jumping straight up while turning left or right as a show of happiness. A binky, Rain called it, though he had no explanation for what the strange term meant or how he came to come up with it, but it worked well enough for Song’s purposes, for the bunnies were binkying about the courtyard without restraint while the Brotherhood smiled and laughed in sheer delight. Some grinned and pointed while others crooned and pet the rabbits and laughing birds, with a select few even lying down on their bellies to better greet the animals. It was a strange sight to see monks acting in such an unrestrained manner, especially with how reserved Monk Happy and the Abbot had been throughout their long visit. This didn’t seem like something out of the ordinary either, for the monks shared their joy as naturally as the animals, none of them even the least bit ashamed to be seen taking delight in such simple pleasures as they discussed how soft their fur was or how adorable their ears were.

Noticing Song’s muted disbelief, Monk Happy winked and said, “Life is about Balance, but there is no shame in taking joy wherever they might find it. This, young Rain has right, for he cares not for the opinions of others when it comes to his love of animals. And why should he? His love is pure and given without expectation, which makes it a wonderful source of joy and merriment, and even the stress and hardship that comes with it is not without benefit. Balance is difficult to find as is, but almost impossible without support, for we humans are social creatures by nature. Rain, however, is by nature exceedingly anti-social, and to say he lacks trust is an understatement at best. In fact, were it not for his love of animals, I wager he might well have long since succumbed to the darkness, and I suspect you would agree if you only considered it for but a moment, though I wonder if you will see the pitfall that lies before him.”

Monk Happy wasn’t wrong, but he was also trying to say more than his words might otherwise imply, which was the impression Song got from his subtle Aura. The monk was saying Rain’s love and devotion to his animals was his way of dealing with his darker nature, and if so, then the depths of his love also reflected the gravity of his trials and tribulations. The monk also believed that there was a flaw to this Path, but what that flaw might be, Song could not quite say. Perhaps they were worried about what Rain might do if one of his animals were to be harmed, or if his love of animals could no longer keep his darker nature in check. Either one was possible, as Rain was currently dead to the world as he sat on the courtyard floor, emanating a burdensome Aura of guilt and shame as he quietly reflected on his actions, actions Song saw as completely reasonable.

What was he being so hard on himself for? He found Defiled, and moved to kill those Defiled. That they had children with them changed nothing, for a young Defiled child was merely a soldier in training, one who was all but sure to take up arms for the foul Father.

It was shocking how far Rain went to place blame on himself, and while everyone knew he had a tendency to do so, no one truly understood how hard he took it, not until recently when he began inadvertently sharing everything he felt through Aura. It was strange, because Song thought his love, joy, gratitude, and all his other positive emotions came through loud and clear, but his guilt, contrition, despondency and general depression felt... muted in some way, as if she were only feeling the aftereffects of those emotions, rather than those emotions themselves. Even this dampened sensation was enough to shock and dishearten her, and she imagined he knew this and reserved the worst for himself, for she suspected that if he were to weaponize his negative emotions like the Enemy had, his Aura would grossly overshadow what the Demons unleashed during the withdrawal from Sanshu.

After all, didn’t he admit that he sent Ping Ping spiralling into grief and Demonization after sharing his grief with her? Such a weapon was almost too frightening to unleash, and she worried what it would do to Rain’s soul if he should ever wholly give into depression. She herself knew the struggle all too well, because if it were not for her Oaths, she would have long since thrown herself from a window or hung herself in despair, but she was grateful she hadn’t, because then she would have died never knowing what love and joy truly felt like.

Like the warm embrace of the Mother above, but even better, because for all Her power, She lacked the arms to hold Song like Mama could.

Monk Happy was still watching Song with expectant eyes, wondering if she understood his meaning, but she didn’t know what he wanted from her. It was very possible that Rain was losing to his darker nature, not anger and hatred but despair and depression, yet what was Song supposed to do? Lin-Lin was better equipped to deal with this, always able to cheer him up with a smile and a hug, but even the bright and lively half-hare seemed affected by his mood, quietly resting in his arms with a distant look in her eyes, contemplating something or another inside her enigmatic mind. Perhaps Rain even sensed himself losing the fight, as these last few days, he did seem intent on befriending the groundhogs living under Healer Taduk’s garden, a last ditch effort to cheer himself up with new furry friends, perhaps.

The problem was, no one knew how to cheer him up, not Lin-Lin, Luo-Luo, Niece Alsantset, or even Sisters Mila, Yan, and Sarnai. Every day, he invariably sank down into the depths of depression, and there was nothing anyone could do to raise him out of it. Returning his sword worked for the span of a few hours, and so did playing with Blackjack for a little bit, but then he always went back to brooding in silence. Lin-Lin’s repeated attempts to rouse him only worked occasionally, much to the poor girl’s frustration, but if his family, friends, and floofs could not rouse his spirits, what did Monk Happy expect Song to do?

Since she couldn’t come up with an answer, she simply asked, and Monk Happy’s smile softened as he shook his head. “Alas, this monk does not know him well enough to answer this, though he does have a question for Sentinel Song. You see, this monk is a student of human nature, one who spent the last few days studying young Rain and his family. All of you are aware of the severity of the situation, can sense the conflict going on inside him, and even the bright and optimistic Lady Mei Lin fears for the worst.” Gesturing at Song, Monk Happy cocked his head in question and added, “But not you. These last few days, you have paid no special attention to him, while others fret and fuss over his every move. You worry not for his fate, yet you care about him, enough to direct the animals away from your bed and over to his side. This you have done every night since this monk arrived, yet nothing more, and while others might think you cold and aloof, this monk sees faith and conviction guiding your actions. You are not worried because you do not see any point in worrying.” Seeing the truth of his words in Song’s lack of expression, Monk Happy nodded and asked, “Why?”

Struggling to come up with an appropriate answer, Song merely shrugged and said, “Because he is Rain. Everyone worries he will succumb to the Father, but when has he ever been so obedient? He will argue the sky is green or the sun rises in the west just to be contrary if the mood strikes him so. This trial is a difficult one, but he will overcome it, and if he cannot, then he will ask for help, even if he has to swallow his pride to do so.” Giving the monk a knowing look, Song implied that was why Rain was here, because he knew he needed help that his family could not give him, and thus far, the Brotherhood had all but ignored him. When were they going to bring him to the Abbot? Or at the very least, ask about Rain’s condition and discuss how to best aid him?

Catching on to her meaning, Monk Happy very deliberately stifled a sigh and kept his eyes on Song, doing his best not to glance around and give away the culprits. “Not all of the Brotherhood are so keen on aiding young Rain,” he Sent, his smile faltering for all of an instant before returning in full force. “They worry he is too bloodthirsty and will forever be unwilling to walk the Noble Eight-fold Path, and his earlier actions lend much weight to their arguments. You see, our first belief is to do no harm, and this monk’s brothers fear that by aiding young Rain, they will be bringing harm to others, the same as if they were to forge a weapon. The same can be said of our inaction, but this monk fears his words hold... less weight in the eyes of his brothers, for he has stood firmly on young Rain’s side since the beginning.”

And just like that, Song understood what Monk Happy wanted her to do, even if he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted it. “You worry Rain will not accept your ideals,” she said, loudly for all to hear, “And for this, you will deny him your assistance and watch as he succumbs to darkness and despair? What if by your inaction, he were to surrender to the Father’s lies and turn against the Mother’s light? Would you not still be responsible for the harm he would then cause? Judge him by his actions if you will, but if you mean to judge him by what he may or may not do, then you should do the same for the Defiled living outside your walls.”

Monk Happy was not the only one surprised by her outburst, but it was far more pronounced in the other monks. “Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo,” one intoned, bowing his head in contrition. “This one was blind, but now he sees. Our worries still hold merit, but the same can be said of anyone we assist. Would we deny a shepherd aid for fear of what he might do to his flock?”

“From the mouths of babes.” Though this second monk only looked five to ten years older than Song herself, his youthful features bore the weight of years far beyond what they might suggest, a solemnity that spoke of years of hardship. “Out of selfish concern for our own future, we have all failed to abide by the Right Effort. Regardless of the Abbot’s intentions or this young man’s future actions, he comes here in grave need and we cannot in good conscience leave him to suffer, else to do so would be to condone his suffering.”

“Of course, of course,” another monk said, slapping his own cheek none too lightly. “To think, this one let his own pride almost keep him from helping a soul in dire need. To save a life is better than building a seven story pagoda, and as fine as the monastery might look surrounded by dozens of such structures, its beauty would be sapped away by the reminder of our own failings.”

“Come Brother,” a third monk said to Happy, one much older than the rest, yet still taking a seat on the hard stone ground like an eager young student. “Tell us what ails him so that we might discuss how to best proceed from here.”

Flashing her a grateful look, Monk Happy started telling his Brothers all about Rain, starting with his life in captivity and how he was found by the People. Song would have thought the Brotherhood already knew this much, but from the looks of things, they knew nothing about Rain or his accomplishments and had trouble believing Monk Happy’s claims. Song was asked to chime in several times to corroborate the story or clarify a situation, but she was more than happy to do so. After all, Rain usually knew exactly what to do in order to overcome his trials and tribulations, for there was no man more blessed by the Heavens or beloved by the Mother Above.

In fact, Song was beginning to suspect that if the groundhog had been more amenable to friendship, then they might not even have needed to come all this way to ask the Brotherhood for help. A shame really, for that groundhog was an adorable creature, but stubborn and unwilling to stay above ground for long. No matter though, Rain was already feeding it at regular intervals, so it was only a matter of time before it came around and learned just how wonderful a backscratch could be.

Patting Sarankho to wake her from her nap, Song picked up Guai-Guai and brought them both to sit with Rain, Lin-Lin, and the silly bears who were still shaken from the harrowing journey here. “Don’t worry,” she said, unsure how to show support and opting for a pat on Rain’s head. “The monks are discussing how to best help you, so I am sure it won’t be long now.” Rain didn’t stir, nor did his Aura change, but Song hadn’t expected her words to enact any meaningful change.

Instead, she radiated an Aura of her own, one of careful optimism and determined perseverance to remind him of something she learned late: even on the darkest of nights, the dawn would never be too far off. One only needed to survive and persevere, two things Falling Rain did best.

Chapter Meme