Savage Divinity

Dipping my toes into the lake’s blue-green waters, I lean back on both elbows and crane my neck to stare at the towering skyscraper behind me.

This is my Natal Palace. I know this even though I cannot see into the familiar topmost room, where my comfy bed, scuffed desk, worn chair, and expensive PC all sit, overlooking this concrete pier which I am currently resting on as well as the lake stretching out before me. I was a little surprised at first upon seeing so many unfamiliar changes, but then awareness settled in and I remembered I was the one who made these changes, except I somehow forgot. Even forgetting and remembering feels routine now, the surprise quickly fading as other such instances come to mind, which leads me to believe that this happens every time I visit. Of course, this isn’t the first time I’ve come to this conclusion, and it feels like it won’t be the last, as forgetting everything that takes place within my Natal Palace is but another symptom of the disconnect between my mind, body, and soul.

Why does this happen? I have no idea. I can only guess that it might have something to do with the fact that I formed this Natal Palace when my soul was severed from my mind and body. It’s the Call Centre of the Void, only repurposed into my Natal Palace, or perhaps it was my Natal Palace from the beginning and I just tricked myself into believing otherwise. Putting the specifics aside for now, the question is: how do I fix this? I know one way, through the use of Panacea, but I also know that this wouldn’t be the best way, though I have no idea why. Thus, I decided to come visit the Brotherhood, in hopes that they have answers or information that can guide me in the right direction. So far, we’ve gotten off to a rocky start when I tried to kill their domesticated Defiled, but thankfully the monks didn’t hold this against me and are working hard to understand the problem, which is difficult when I can’t really communicate all that well.

Hopefully, they’ll figure it out anyways and I can be reunited with the rest of my loved ones within the week. These monks spend their whole lives studying the Dao in its entirety, so if they can’t or won’t help me, then my only alternatives would be to seek aid from the Imperial Clan or Zhen Shi, neither of which would provide answers without expecting something in return.

Something tells me I should head back to my room, take a seat in my throne, and try to figure this all out, but I obviously don’t feel like it, else I’d be up there rather than down here. Out in the real world, I operate on Intent and nothing else, but here in my Natal Palace, I am not subject to the whims of my subconscious and can do whatever the hell I please, even if leaving my chair empty feels… wrong. No idea why, but I do know that upon returning to my mind and body, I’m fairly certain I won’t remember the thoughts and events that take place in my Natal Palace, but the same is not true in reverse. My attempt to kill the wayward Defiled left me overcome with guilt, not just because they had children with them, but also because I failed to notice the presence of my Natal Souls. They were there in the background, convincing the Defiled that they should trust in the Brotherhood and stay true to this new path while the Spectres urged them to take up arms to defend themselves. Thankfully, my Natal Souls were more convincing than their foes and my Intent-driven self is very straightforward in how I attack, but this struggle will never end, for the Spectres are so ingrained in the psyche of these Defiled, I don’t think the ghosties will ever let their vessels go.

Or maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe the Defiled accepted the Spectres so completely that their souls merged. Whole souls of Defiled patched by the soul fragments of Spectres filled with hate, anger, misery, anguish and worse. No wonder so many Defiled seem absolutely insane...

That being said, I might well be the reason these particular Defiled are even open to the idea of a peaceful existence, though that’s probably giving myself too much credit. I might also be the reason they end up giving up on their new Path, because now they’ve seen how Imperial Warriors will react, with violence and hatred. That said, while I don’t know what their end goal is or how they’ll fare in their search for peace, I hope redemption is in the cards for them, even though I don’t know how heavy their crimes actually are. Either way, what are the odds that I would run into them here? I have no idea how they even got all the way here from the battle at Castle JiangHu or what led them to this decision, because I decided not to Devour those Natal Souls and learn what they’d all been up to.

When I sent them out into the world, I wanted my Natal Souls to do good, and from the looks of things, they’re doing exactly that, so who am I to interfere?

Besides, I just spent an inordinate amount of time (that could have actually only been a few seconds, but I’m not entirely sure) agonizing over how I did exactly what I was worried I would do and leapt in headfirst without thinking. Something drew me over to the Defiled village, probably the presence of my Natal Souls, but once I identified the inhabitants as the Enemy, I didn’t stop to wonder what brought me there or ask what their purposes or intentions were, I just drew Peace and went in for the kill. I’m grateful Monk Happy was there to stop me, because Defiled or not, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if I’d followed through with my Intent and killed every last Defiled in the area, women and children included. For a twofer, I’m pretty sure there was a pregnant woman too, standing at the head of the crowd and ready to fight me off with a basket of wet clothes and a fistful of clothespins, her brutal demeanor somehow utterly in sync with her domestic countenance. The woman was clearly the leader of these Defiled, standing at the forefront and giving orders to the rest while readying to defend them to her last, and though I overlooked it in my initial rage, on reflection, I find it oddly soothing to see how well she’s acclimated to this new lifestyle without losing much of the old.

All this brings up an interesting dilemma, in that these Defiled are undoubtedly Warriors who fought against the Imperial Army at Castle JiangHu, else they wouldn’t have my Natal Souls to guide them. This means that in the eyes of the Empire, they are all murderers and war criminals, which is a crime punishable by death even if they weren’t Defiled. They fought and likely killed Imperial soldiers, men and women who died defending their families and loved ones from fierce and violent invaders. These Defiled need to pay for the deaths of those soldiers, but seeing them trying to eke out a peaceful existence under the Brotherhood’s guidance, I cannot bring myself to condemn them to death. Morally, is this right? Do I let these killers, cannibals, and possibly worse go free just because they appear to have changed their ways? Then what about the families of the soldiers these Defiled killed? Don’t they deserve justice?

Yes, of course they do, but what about redemption? Do sinners not deserve a chance to repent and make up for the errors of their ways? Do all Defiled truly deserve death without exception? I don’t think I can say ‘yes’ in good conscience, not honestly at least. The Defiled are responsible for countless atrocities throughout the history of the Empire, but to say that they must be eradicated down to the last is too much. Genocide is never the answer, especially considering the numerous atrocities committed by the Empire itself. The Purge is a great example of this, a hateful and horrendous practice which many people in power know does nothing to contain homegrown Defiled, but it does wonders to keep the common people fearful of the Father’s lies. Thus the practice continues, with who knows how many innocents suffering through a cruel and unjust end just so nobles and politicians can say, “See? We’re doing something. We’re fighting the Enemy, but you can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs.”

Yea, ‘both sides are equally bad’ reeks of a bad faith argument, but in this instance, judging a group as a whole can only lead to bloodshed. I should only judge each individual by their own actions, but I worry the Brotherhood is supporting these Defiled for all the wrong reasons. Are these tribesmen here because they regret their actions and seek to atone and change their ways? Or are they here because they no longer believe in their Uniter and lack the stomach to fight anymore? Having seen their reaction, I have an inkling it’s the former, but I’m not entirely sure it’s not the latter either.

Then again, what business is it of mine? What gives me the right to sit in judgment of anyone? If these Defiled wish to live out the rest of their lives in peace, then who am I to say otherwise? I miss the days when I wholeheartedly believed the Defiled were evil incarnate, but I’ve been lying to myself about that for long enough. They’re not born evil, not anymore than Imperial citizens are born good. They’re human, and just like me, they are capable of all manner of magnificent or abhorrent things. Simple as that, which makes things complicated, because now I don’t know where to stand anymore. As Legate of the Outer Provinces, do I side firmly with the Empire and advocate for the eradication of the Defiled, or should I stay true to my morals and argue for second chances all around before cleaning house of everyone who won’t play nice? Oddly enough, I feel like the first option would actually be easier and probably less bloody, because it’s obvious by now that the Imperial Clan has much to answer for. I can’t say for certain they’re responsible for the Defiled, but I wholeheartedly believe they would rather keep the status quo and have the Outer Provinces in eternal conflict with savage, murderous tribesmen.

Without an Enemy to focus on, the people of the Empire might turn their attention towards the Imperial Clan and wonder why they must answer to an Emperor who cares so little for them.

None of this matters if I don’t get better though, because as things stand, if I see Defiled, I will kill Defiled. A while back, I wouldn’t have taken too much issue with this outlook, because I saw them as the Enemy, people to kill or be killed by. Now I see this is no longer the case, because while I can’t cleanse the Defiled of their Spectres, this doesn’t mean they are all inherently evil and deserving of death. Some are, maybe even most, but not all, because almost everything in life is neither black nor white, but varying shades of mottled gray.

Putting my moral quandaries aside, I take a moment to admire my skyscraper and the world it resides in, for no longer do the windows stare out into the void. The scenic lake would look weird without a sky to sit overtop it, complete with drifting clouds and shifting sun and moon to create a day/night cycle. It’s not affixed to time, but rather my mood, and my inner dilemma has the weather set to overcast skies. I don’t mind so much, because at least it’s not dark nothingness that stretches out into eternity, nor is it the stormy darkess it will be whenever I’m at my lowest. Gotta stay optimistic, else this world will eat me alive, as I have enough issues without adding to them myself.

A burst of joy, love, and happiness stirs me from my thoughts as I welcome Mama Bun into my Natal Palace. Ping Ping and Pong Pong follow in hot on her heels, all three happy to be back here again. After a round of hugs and kisses, Ping Ping sets out into the lake with a happy little squeak while Mama Bun follows after her on her magic raft, a little inflatable float I conjured up for her that lets her hop anywhere she pleases without falling into the water. Truth be told, she could probably swim here, but the problem is she doesn’t believe she can, so she’ll start to ‘drown’ if she’s ever submerged inside the lake. We had a bit of an incident on our first trip out to the lake, when I just threw her in expecting her to figure it out for herself, but the sweet silly bunny just doesn’t understand that my Natal Palace runs on different rules than out there in the real world. At least she’s consistent though, because now I don’t have to worry about her trying to go swimming out in the real world, and it was adorable watching her learn how to use her little raft. Hop, hop, hopping along, she directs her raft to chase after Ping Ping, which is a novel experience for her to try her paw at being the predator. Of course, when Mama Bun catches Ping Ping, she just hugs and kisses the sweet turtle, which means that even though the big turtle can swim circles around her all day, Ping Ping will invariably ‘lose’ and snuggle up with Mama Bun, resulting in a win-win for both parties involved.

Being older and wiser than the other two, Pong Pong takes a moment to check up on my mental health, sending concern and good vibes my way as a means of encouragement. “I am here for you,” is what he’s trying to say, and I reciprocate the sentiment, but he gives it to me straight and tells me, “No need to worry. I am fine. You are not.”

Animals don’t do subtlety, but he’s not wrong. In fact, Pong Pong is the reason why I made this lake in the first place, one which is modeled after a lake shore I hold in distant memory. It didn’t have to be a lake, it could’ve been anything, even a sink or footbath if I really wanted to, because the lake is merely a representation of the forces at work. The waters ebb and flow due to the tides and currents, and as they wash over my feet, they soak up my worries and carry them away into the dark abyss beneath the lake and out into the void. This is how Pong Pong deals with his depressive moods, by keeping his deepest, darkest emotions stuffed into a deep cave which he never visits because it leads out into the Void. It’s like the anus of the Natal Palace, pooping out all those negative emotions to keep them from overwhelming us through sheer volume of strength. I still feel and am affected by them, but I don’t cling onto them forever and never let go. That being said, I feel like this isn’t the best idea, as I am a little concerned that I’ve created an automated Spectre manufacturing Keystone, but if the alternative is holding onto all that guilt and misery for the rest of eternity, then I don’t see how I have any other option.

It raises a good question about the Spectres, who are seen as the Father’s foul minions, except now I know this isn’t exactly true. They’re simply the result of Heavenly Energy responding to negative emotions, and they have no notable counterpart because humans are quick to divest the worst of their emotions, but cling tightly to the best. The solution? Put more good vibes out into the world, but I am but one man, and I fear I have precious few good vibes to spare. That’s partially why I’m in so much trouble now, because while the love of friends, family, and beloved wives is great and all, I’m still working on a deficit of positive emotions because I am a literal font of negative vibes. If I could figure out a way to harness energy by being gloomy, I could power the whole goddamned world like some sort of crazy efficient power plant. Cold fusion would have nothing on me, because my free energy only needs me to exist.

Radiating more concern, Pong Pong interrupts my brooding with mild disapproval, as he thinks I am a slow learner. “Stupid soft skin,” he would probably say, if he could actually speak. “How hard can this be to understand? Just stop being sad and be happy, dumbass.”

Hehe. Actual talking animals would be weird, but I love giving them little voices and personalities. Mama Bun is the sweet, innocent girl who laughs and screams with excitement, while Pong Pong is the tough, gruff, swift kick in the ass father figure who’s had enough of my shit. At least he is until I leap to my feet and dive off the pier, plunging into the cool, refreshing water and before surfacing seconds later. “Better,” Pong Pong’s emotions say, tacit approval laced with cautious optimism and barely contained excitement. “Play?”

And we do, zipping off into the waters on our merry game of chase, so similar to Mama Bun and Ping Ping only cranked up to eleven. We take turns being predator and prey with neither one of us keeping score, as regardless of who wins or loses, we both have fun anyways. Mama Bun and Ping Ping can’t really keep up, but after pushing ourselves to the limit for a little bit, we slow things down and play in teams, going through every combination of pairs possible. After a little while, we even play three against one for a bit, with all three doing their best to chase me down as a team, and while their coordination is terrible, I eventually give the win over to Mama Bun who leaps into my arms in excitement. The other two join in on the cuddle puddle and we all share in the healing energy of love and affection for some time, until I decide a bit more fun is in order and I carry all four us away on a veritable tidal wave that hurtles use about like a theme park roller coaster, but one for children as I’m not sure if Mama Bun’s heart could take anything faster.

The joy and satisfaction, thrill and excitement, wonder and adoration, some of it also seeps into the lake water to be carried away into the Void, because I can’t just dump my negative emotions out there. Gotta put some good in too, and I’m doing so with the help of Mama Bun, Ping Ping, and Pong Pong. Not without cost though, as it is draining on all of us, as we are in essence siphoning off a tiny portion of our souls every time we cast some emotion into the Void, but the thing about souls is that they are not finite. They say love is a balm for the soul, but I would say fertilizer is more apt, considering we are ‘cultivators’ of a sort, and love begets love, just as hate begets hate.

Hmm... I was making a joke, but that actually seems to fit really well, though I’m not entirely sure why. Something about souls and growth just… I dunno… it just feels right. My head is clearer in the Natal Palace than it otherwise might be out in the real world, which is weird because I believe that technically, I’m no longer using my physical brain to think, but rather running wholly on my Soul, which is somehow a thing. I mean, I always figured it existed, but it’s still weird to think that my soul works even when detached from my body and mind. This might even be the reason why Insight is so readily available in this state. While we all grow up learning to use our minds and bodies, I think Martial Warriors are individuals who are firmly in touch with their souls, the very core of their existence. The body is temporary, but the soul is eternal, and it is through our souls we harness the Energy of the Heavens. This would explain why Martial Warriors can oftentimes fall into a fugue state similar to what I’m experiencing now, like Mila when she was designing her patented Spiritual Spring Guns. Everyone else, myself included, believes this to be a form of deeper Insight by one of many names, but now I know that this Insight is accessed through the Soul. How do I know this? Because I’ve experienced it first-hand through limited omniscience, and what is limited omniscience besides Insight, Inspiration, or an Awakening by yet another name and on a much larger scale?

Again, I feel close to an answer, but even though the clues I have all fit together, too many pieces are still missing and I cannot make out what the final product is supposed to be, or even what it might be. One with the Sword, One with the Self, One with the World, and One with the Heavens, but where does One with the Soul fit in?

Instead of agonizing over this, I focus on the fun and merriment to be had until I sense Mama Bun tiring out. Being the youngest and weakest of the bunch, it makes sense for her to be unable to keep up with the rest, so I bring her up to my room to cuddle and nap, but not before crafting a temporary watery amusement park for Ping Ping and Pong Pong to play in. Not the best use of my err… not mental, but soul strength, I suppose, as it is not without limit, though honestly, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to use it for if not this. I remember Shen ZhenWu talking about how I seemed ‘diminished’ after remodeling my Natal Palace, but I don’t entirely understand what he meant by that. Did he think I was weaker because my Natal Palace was smaller, or was there some other metric he was measuring by? What is the purpose of building up one’s Natal Palace? More questions for the Abbot and the Brotherhood, though I have no idea when I’ll regain the ability to even ask them.

Worries for another time though, as this line of thought brings me to another, of what my Natal Palace used to look like and how much I miss those scenic views. Seated on the bed with a snoring Mama Bun in my arms, I stare out over the lake and watch Ping Ping and Pong Pong play to their heart’s content while lamenting just how bare and empty my Natal Palace looks and feels. I would love to turn the water park into a permanent feature, but there’s still so much more I need to add. Creating the lake and skyscraper alone wasn’t easy, I know this the same way I know how to breathe, but I also know that my Natal Palace is not yet complete. The modern room, concrete pier, and beautiful lake all represent my past life, what of my current one?

As I reflect upon my experiences since coming to this world, trees begin to sprout all around the skyscraper while mountain peaks rise up upon the horizon. The light strikes these new creations and configuring all their shadows confound me, until I realize I don’t need to think about it too hard and just let the sun do its work, as natural law will take over and fill in the rest. This is all done without much conscious thought, but that does not mean it was without effort, nor is my work complete, because while RTX shadows are nice, its just an extra feature that’s nice to have, rather than the main attraction. My Natal Palace needs more trees, more grass, more plants, and more buildings, not modern ones of steel and concrete, but courtyard manors made of wood and brick with curved roofs covered in fired-clay tiles and large gates facing south to best take advantage of the sun’s light, as well a thousand other minor details to make it a proper reflection of reality.

Yea, that’s how it should be, because it just feels right. Why? I don’t know, but I do know this was the direction I went when I first Formed my Natal Palace, with my bedroom sitting high above the People’s mountain village. Then I destroyed it all in a fit of pique, which I now see was where I made my first and most costly mistake. I tried to focus only the good memories and erase all the bad, but that’s not a healthy way to deal with the anger and resentment I felt from my near exile. What I need to do is accept that it happened and move on, because holding onto unspoken grudges does me no good. I love the village, and while they tried to exile me, my family stood together and convinced them otherwise. I can hardly fault the People as a whole for being worried, and I shouldn’t hate them for wanting to keep themselves safe, nor should I allow this one incident to taint all my memories of a home I genuinely love and cherish.

I should write all these thoughts down, because who knows if I’ll remember them the next time I’m here?

Heading over to the PC, the monitors flicker on as I take a seat in my chair, and for a moment, I’m overwhelmed with a sensation of calm and safety. I don’t think my soul is ever supposed to leave the throne, but only because every other soul I’ve seen was initially seated on their respective thrones, unless they’d already surrendered or were being directed to do so. Yo Ling taking audience on his literal throne, Pong Pong sleeping on his coral bed, Ping Ping buried in the riverside mud, and sitting in a courtyard modeled after the one outside, they were all seated in their respective thrones and only the turtles were trusting enough to come off them. There’s a reason for that, but before I can delve too deeply in it, I notice an icon in the middle of the center screen, one depicting a tiny blue notepad and labeled: journal.txt.

Guess I’ve already come up with the idea of writing down my thoughts. Though there are more thoughts in there than I expected, it only takes a moment to parse through them as they are my own memories, and adding to it takes even less time, leaving me confident that I will eventually arrive at the right answer even if the Brotherhood cannot help me as I hope they will.

And so, sensing the turtles are nearing their limits for the night, I call them both to me and we all settle into bed, man, turtle, turtle, and rabbit all snuggled up together. Closing my eyes, I sink into a deep sleep filled with calm assurance and hopeful optimism for the future, because despite the rough start, I’ve taken another step forward on my journey to recovery, which is better than no steps at all. That’s all I can really hope for, to move forward rather than backwards as I so often do. That being said, the Path was never about the destination, I see this now.

It’s all about the journey, the steps we take and the people we meet along the way, and in this, I am undoubtedly blessed.

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

“Errrk-uh-erk-eh-errrrrrrrr!”

With a rousing cry that sounds nothing like ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’, Kukku greets the morning sun and interrupts my pleasant dreams, and the memories slip away like water pouring out of a sieve. The more I try to hold onto those fond recollections, the quicker they drain away, leaving me with the memory of a memory of something warm and safe, though the monastery bedroom isn’t that much worse. Granted, the bed is a little harder than I’d like, being a slab of wood and nothing else, but the company makes it much more bearable, and not just because it includes two bears. Three if you count Guai-Guai as a variation of bear, which I suppose I would since the direct translation of ‘red panda’ is actually ‘bear cat’. Rubbing his eyes in grumpy discontent, Guai-Guai buries his face into my chest and under Mama Bun’s belly, who also stirs awake with an enormous yawn. The rest of my animals are all soon up and about, while several laughing birds try to mimic Kukku’s call with mercifully no effect, and I can only hope they don’t retain this habit after we leave. The big rooster is adorably fluffy and a sweetheart to boot, but I could really do without the whole… waking up at the butt-crack of dawn thing.

Hehe. Buttcracks. Buttholes. Anus of the Void.

…

What the fuck is wrong with my brain? Why did I just go there?

…

Where did all my floofs go?

Glancing down, I find Mama Bun snoring away in my arms, which feels like the most natural thing in the world, especially since she’s clutching Pong Pong in between her paws, while Ping Ping snoozes in my lap to make three. They’ve all been sleeping a lot more lately, which should worry me, but doesn’t, because somehow, I know there’s a good reason for their slumber, except I can’t quite place my finger on what said reason might be. Guai-Guai is also here, sleeping on top of Ping Ping’s shell, because Kukku keeps waking him up early every day, and the poor red panda doesn’t sleep as well when there are other people in the room.

Hang on.

Every day?

Didn’t I just arrive?

Glancing about in confusion, I find myself sitting in the courtyard outside, awash in the orange-red glow of the rising sun. When I first laid eyes here, I immediately recognized it as Mahakala’s Natal Palace, or rather the area he modeled his Natal Palace after. No idea why he made it so small compared to his giant massive soul, but everything in the monastery is exactly the same right down to the placement of the benches and the carvings on they columns. The monks even chant the same sutras when they gather together for their morning meditation, with one monk leading things from where Mahakala sat, and as I ready to sit in and listen to the droning chants, I spy Jorani shuffling out to join them. Though he has yet to shave his head again, he fits right in with the monks as he settles into a cross-legged posture and begins chanting the Sutras to the beat of Monk Happy’s fish drum. A regular wooden fish drum and drumstick, unlike the Abbot’s two Spiritual Weapons fashioned in the same shape, one he used to no small effect way back in Sinuji before his injury. I want to talk to him again, but I have a faint recollection of someone telling me he was still recovering, and was in no shape to meet with visitors just yet.

It isn’t until morning meditation ends that I realize I’ve been chanting along, though the meaning of the Sutras is completely lost on me. Gazing about in utter confusion, I find Song seated nearby with Sarankho and Princess. A soft smile stretches across her lovely lips, so beautiful and captivating I barely notice Blackjack’s adorable antics as he leaps high into the air with Jimjam beside him, the hare and wildcat competing to see who can jump higher. Surprisingly, it looks like the little hare is winning, but neither one of them care, as they just like jumping for the sake of it, and don’t really have any stake in the victory.

Or maybe they’re trying to figure out how to Cloud-Step. Wouldn’t that be something?

Song’s smile slips away as she notices my attention, and I curse myself for making things weird with my gawking stare. It doesn’t help that I was probably leaking all my emotions through Aura too, but she responds with a casual burst of inquiry and curiosity. “Is something wrong?”

There are no words spoken, but I hear them all the same, and I respond in the same manner, radiating confused disorientation. That’s really all the nuance I can squeeze out using Aura alone, but a single word accompanies it, even though I meant to ask a question using a whole sentence. “Long?”

Me Rain. Me Smort. Speak real gud.

Thankfully, Song understands almost immediately, leaving me to believe I’ve asked this question before. Of course, her answer is verbal and therefore the meaning escapes me until I buckle down to figure it out. Eventually, I piece together that today marks the ninth day since we’ve arrived, even though I feel like it’s been less than twenty-four hours. No wait, I remember now… Taduk came to visit, a few times now already. He stayed for dinner too, not every night, but more than once, because the food is so delicious. It’s not all made from Spiritual Plants, though the dishes that are have been prepared properly, which shows just how much the Penitent Brotherhood is sitting on and refuses to share with the world at large. They know how to cook Spiritual Plants, how to radiate Emotional Aura, how to turn regular animals into Spiritual Beasts, and who knows what else?

I especially wanna know the last thing, because I want all my floofs to be long-lived Spiritual Beasts. Animals can live a long time even without forming a Spiritual Heart, but it’s really a crap-shoot as to how long they’ll actually live. It’s weird and I don’t understand it, but I’ve added it to the list of questions I’d like answered someday.

I bet the Brotherhood knows. That’s one bone I have to pick with these monks; they keep their secrets close, just like the Imperial Clan, and I don’t like that. Knowledge should be shared, so that each generation can all build upon the last and progress further along into the future. Instead, everyone hoards their knowledge in order to hold some advantage over their foes, though I suppose the Brotherhood might have what they believe is an acceptable reason to do. Maybe they’re worried about the bloodshed their knowledge might cause if it comes into the wrong hands, or maybe they’re left in peace by the powers that be because they’ve no interest in the power struggles of the mortal world. Either way, I personally feel knowledge should be shared, but thus far, I have yet to really learn anything I can really quantify and pass down.

I can guide others to a sort of understanding, but my actions are in turn guided by Insight, so if you think about it, I’m really just a glorified middleman.

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Praise to the Heavens, and all the mysteries within.

My head bows in response without even needing to think, an acknowledgment of the truth to Monk Happy’s greeting. With a wide, welcoming smile, the large monk says a few other words as he seats himself across from me, joined by two older monks who seem familiar, but I cannot name. Probably because they haven’t shared their names yet, as they keep those in-house and they have yet to accept me as a fellow brother, much less their Wisdom who stands first among equals, whatever that means.

The meaning of Happy’s words elude me, but somehow, I can guess at what he’s saying, probably because he’s said the same thing eighteen times already. “Good morning Junior Brother.” The other monks are tight-lipped as one readies parchment and ink while the other brings out a set of thin wooden cards. Monk Happy also has a set of cards, and he shows me the first one which has my symbol carved into it, the side profile of a bow-tie wearing bunny. The other monk shows me a card as well, this one with a carving of a sword. My sword, in fact, now that I look a little closer, Peace which I left back in my room because the monks asked me to.

Oh hey, I know what comes next. I’ve done this before.

Even as the monks radiate their Auras of contentment, I raise my hand to touch Happy’s card. The bunny brings me contentment, not just because it’s a bunny, but because it amuses me that my joke of a symbol has become so widely known. I try to explain this through Aura, but the meaning gets lost in translation, so Happy merely nods and draws his next card, while the other monk keeps holding the sword card and the third monk notes everything down.

I think they’re trying to communicate with me, or maybe they’re trying to understand my mindset better. Either way, the next card has an approximation of a busty, scantily clad lady on it, which is clearly the winner. After that, the cards are turtle, house, a wok spatula, a dumpling, and several more symbols that represent things I enjoy more than the sword, so the second monk is left hanging as Monk Happy keeps showing me new cards. Eventually, he holds up what I note is the last card, and it takes me a moment to understand what I’m looking at, but when I do, I am paralyzed by indecision.

For on Happy’s last card is a shield. My shield in fact, Tranquility, with its twin blades affixed to the front. How am I supposed to choose between Peace and Tranquility? I might as well choose between my left and right nut, I just can’t do it. I want them both and hope to never part with either one, but Monk Happy wants me to make a choice. After an indeterminate amount of time, Monk Happy radiates curiosity as he places his card face down, then confusion which I understand is not genuine, but rather his way of asking me a question.

“If you cannot choose between them, why have you not reforged your shield?”

A good question really, and before I know it, I have Peace in hand, drawn from its scabbard after somehow making its way to my side. No, not somehow, I Guided it over here from my room where I left it, because Ping Ping and Guai-Guai are both still asleep on my lap and I can’t get up without waking them. Only they aren’t in my lap, as Song has them both in her arms, while my sleepy wifey beams prettily beside her. Lin-Lin has Mama Bun and Pong Pong, and I cannot for the life of me remember when she came to take them, but now I am free to do what needs to be done, what I know Monk Happy and the others want me to do.

I must reforge Tranquility.

Peace bites deep into the meat of my palm as I carve the flesh from my bones, the pain an afterthought to which I pay no mind. This was what I did to reforge Peace, but once the injury has been dealt, I find myself unable to proceed forward, as I cannot figure out what I do next. Focus on my memories of Tranquility and what the weapon represents, but what does it represent? For the longest time, I saw Tranquility as Baledagh’s weapon, but while I have come to terms with what he represented, the part of me that so yearned to belong in this world, I still have not reconciled where Tranquility fits in.

Sword and shield, one to attack and the other to defend, but this is not always the case. Even without the added blades, anyone can use a shield to attack, and a sword can most certainly be used to defend. No, Tranquility is about more than just defending me from external attacks, but also internal ones. During my binding ceremony, I defeated a copy of myself, which was the Heavens telling me what I must do long before Mahakala forced me to confront the truth. Tranquility is not just a shield, but also a reminder. Yan gifted this weapon to me, as thanks for conceding the shield she still uses now, but it’s about more than just one person. Tranquility is a reminder of all my friends, floof, and family, a reminder that I have so many loved ones I can always count on, and a reminder to always take a moment to think things through before leaping into the fray. That’s what the shield means to me, as well as a last resort for those times when I get in too deep and need to fight my way out tooth and nail. Better if I didn’t have to, but if need be, the twin blades are affixed to the shield for good reason.

Because sometimes, blood must be spilled if one desires lasting peace and tranquility.

When I come to again, I am back in my room, with my sword and shield laid out on the table and Mama Bun nestled in my embrace. Ping Ping and Pong Pong are also here, but the other animals are absent, no doubt because the sun is shining high in the sky and brightly illuminating this tiny yet functional room. Exhausted despite having just woken up, I stare at my sword and shield in muted satisfaction, for I am once again another step closer to my recovery. Unity comes next, but I am not yet ready for that, because it is a complex weapon in more ways than one and will require far more strength than I currently possess. How do I know this? Insight once again, but we all know how I feel about that.

One more step towards recovery. Not bad for a day’s work. I’ll get through this and back to the people I love eventually, but I only hope that I’m not too late.

Then again, it might just be my hero complex acting up again, since I have no reason to believe I can single-handedly turn the tides of war against the Defiled all on my lonesome. I’m sure Dad, Akanai, Nian Zu, Grandpa Du, and so many other grand heroes of the Empire have everything well in hand, and I’ll return to find the Defiled and Zhen Shi running for the hills.

…

...Ah shit. I jinxed it didn’t I?

Chapter Meme