Savage Divinity

After pursuing her foes for half a day, Mila’s blood burned hot as she closed in for the kill.

The Enemy cavalry had grown wily and cunning of late, adopting hit and run tactics that had the Imperial Army running around stomping out fires as they cropped up. No longer content with engaging Imperial soldiers along the Wall, the Defiled had taken to pushing further east and targeting the districts instead, no doubt hoping to get at the people and supplies within. Despite all of Rain’s costly and prudent preparations, the common people of the Empire were paying a hefty butcher’s bill, as this marked the beginning of a new chapter in the war. The new Western Wall was a marvel of human ingenuity, but the Imperial Army lacked the necessary manpower to station enough soldiers to guard every last metre along its two-thousand kilometre stretch. Instead, patrols marched up and down long empty stretches of the Wall, ready to respond should the Enemy appear nearby, but the Defiled had no stomach for a proper fight and behaved like scavengers out in the wild. Skulking in the tall grasses or under the cloak of Concealment, Defiled cavalry lay in wait along the Wall until they spotted an Imperial patrol stomp by. Once the way ahead was clear, they were then free to rush the battlements using their makeshift ramps and ride straight east until the Wall was long behind them. There was no sense staying to fight, for the districts were but an hour’s ride from the front lines, less if the Enemy was willing to push their mounts, and with the promise of easy pickings ahead, they most certainly were.

Though Mila set off after this particular group of Defiled the moment she received word of a breach in the lines, she couldn’t afford to run her quins at full speed for fear of an Enemy ambush, and she could only hope that the district walls would hold long enough for her to reach them. Alas, this seemed like too much to ask of the Mother above as the district gates came into view, or rather as the absence of said gates became clear. Thankfully, the Defiled broke off the attack as soon as her forces drew near and fled further east in hopes of avoiding a direct clash and bringing their ill-gotten gains back West. The downside was that this meant the merry chase was back on again, but it raised more questions about the Enemy tactics. Ordinarily, she would have expected the Defiled to be overcome with bloodlust in the midst of battle, but these tribal savages not only left scouts out to warn the main group of her approach, they also wasted no time retreating from the engagement before killing every living man, woman, child, and chicken that crossed their path. Not that she wasn’t grateful for the lives spared, but this sort of cat and mouse game was maddening to the extreme, especially since she only had a hundred riders with her compared to the estimated three-hundred Defiled riders. Ninety now since she left ten behind at the district to help the survivors, which was ten more than she wanted to spare, but as the distance closed between her and her quarry, she got a better count of the Enemy numbers and realized that either the initial estimates of this group were way off, or the district militia had given a damned good account of themselves.

Ninety Sentinels against maybe a hundred and fifty Defiled, it hardly even seemed sporting anymore.

The first volley from her bows winnowed the number down even further and ended the chase for good as the Enemy pivoted to meet them in battle. Again, Mila was surprised by how decisive their commander was, exhibiting tactical acuity she’d recently come to associate with the Chosen. A mistake, she knew this now, for the Enemy had long since possessed an animal-like cunning, and much like how the stag knew when to flee and when to fight, these tribal Defiled knew their only chance for survival was to fight their way out. Drawing her bow taut, she picked out her target and exhaled before loosing her arrow, favouring accuracy over speed while calculating the odds against her. Hit and run would be the safest tactic, but while her quins were built for stamina over speed, they were fast approaching their limits and she couldn’t afford to let even a single Defiled get away.

Mixed unit tactics would be best, with one-third engaging the Enemy while the rest moved to flank with bow and spear.

Snapping off orders as she put her bow away, she unshouldered her shield, drew her spear, and launched it all in a single motion. Despite her almost careless throw, she was more deadly and accurate with the spear than she could ever be with the bow and claimed yet another kill. Drawing Paragon from her belt, she flicked her wrist and deployed the first set of sectioned blades. Then there was no more time to think as Zabu lunged towards his foe, hurtling through the air in a low arc and slamming feet first in the closest garo. The lizard-beast’s neck snapped on impact, but even if it hadn’t, Zabu’s honed talons, claws, and fangs would have made short work of it, while Paragon pierced cleanly through the rider’s neck. Punching the rim of her shield into a charging garo, she dropped the creature with a single blow and bought enough time for Zabu to disengage from his first kill. The brazen quin even had the gall to tear off a chunk of garo flesh to eat, chewing greedily as Mila finished off the second rider with a slash from Paragon, the blades cleaving clean through his shoulder and chest. Urged on by the pressure of her knees, Zabu huffed in anger before slamming into another foe, killing both mount and rider before Mila even had time to act. The quin was strong and vicious indeed, but arrogant and overbearing to the extreme, so despite all the work Mila put into taming the fierce beast with treats and training, Zabu remained wild and unruly to the end.

Not to say this wasn’t without its advantages, since it meant she only had to keep him focused on the fight and he would handle the rest, engaging the Enemy as he saw fit in what was usually an optimal manner. There was no competing with a quin’s instincts when it came to chaotic pack engagements, these small cavalry skirmishes completely unlike the tidy, group charges on the battlefield. When gathered in tight formation, one relied on group momentum to run roughshod over the enemy, crashing mass into mass and hoping to come out on top, but when engaging in loose formation like she was now, it was easy for any individual rider to push too deep and find themselves surrounded on all sides.

Which was exactly where Mila and Paragon shined brightest as she unleashed her Elemental Blessing and she bombarded her foes with the power of the sun.

By any standard, Mila’s Esoteric Blessing was a strange one, for the sun was a mysterious Heavenly body that no one truly understood. Though most saw it as an unending source of heat and light, her Blessing gave her no talent for controlling either element. Instead, her Blessing made her stronger, tougher, denser, and more vigorous, not exactly things associated with the sun, but therein lay the trap. It wasn’t about what people associated the Sun with, but what the sun provided, of which heat and light were merely byproducts of the true effect, for the sun was a source of life itself. Without sunlight, plants would wilt and die, as would people according to accounts she’d read, but why that might be, no one could say. Mila didn’t know the answer either, but she knew that the heat and light were not what sustained life, but rather something else, something which fell down from the Heavens on beams of sunshine and rays of warmth, something she had yet to find a name for.

It was this nameless effect that Mila released, one others told her was like walking out from a dark room into a wall of stifling, oppressive light coupled with the heat of a fired steel forge, without the actual light or heat. That was the best description Mama and the others could come up with, and while it made little sense, it suited Mila’s purposes well enough, for while the Sun was capable of sustaining life, it was also more than capable of taking it away. Bombarded by her Radiant Chi, the surrounding Defiled wilted away before her intangible incandescence like a flower in the summer heat, the strength spilling from their bodies as tribesman and mount alike faltered in anticipation of a fiery conflagration that would not come. Instead, they were met with Paragon’s cold steel as she whipped her weapon about, avoiding friends and scything through debilitated foes with damned near impunity. Every time Zabu charged in for a kill, Mila adjusted her aim to clear the foes around them, and while she left many a target alive behind her, she had plenty of allies to take advantage of those wounded, distracted, or enervated foes.

Then her flanking Sentinels crashed into the sides and rear of the Defiled contingent and the battle was all but over. An hour-long chase ending in less than a minute of frenetic combat, hardly enough to quench the flames of Mila’s red-hot blood.

The clean up didn’t take long, as the quins were voracious after so much exercise, especially Zabu who recently developed a taste for tangy garo meat. There were gajashias here too, but not as many as she’d expected, which was good because even quins didn’t like to eat their tough and stringy meat. Even in death, the Defiled beasts served no real purpose, though she supposed calling them Defiled beasts wasn’t entirely accurate. Animals never turned Defiled, not in the traditional sense at least, it was just that the beasts outside the Empire’s borders seemed more willing to tolerate the Father’s foul taint stained into the souls of each and every Defiled. Likely because they’d never come into contact with any humans lacking that taint, though unlike Rain, Mila had no intentions of befriending every beast and creature that looked cute.

A good thing garos, gajashias, ursadons, and the other various beasts utilized by the Defiled were by and large an ugly bunch. Mila shuddered to think how conflicted her soft-hearted husband would be if the Enemy rode into battle atop cute and cuddly creatures with big doe eyes and soft, velvety fur...

After a battle, Mila should instead have focused on more pertinent details, like trying to recall how she unleashed that burst of Radiant Chi or what other ways it could be used. There were also other mysteries to mull over, like how she knew the arrangement of allies and enemies around her without having to look around, why was it possible to close her eyes and still hit a target with her thrown spear, or maybe even why animals never turned Defiled, but instead all she could focus on was her idiot husband and his stupid tendency to demand so much from himself, which was why he was off visiting the Brotherhood instead of here fighting at her side.

It was so infuriating... she wanted to tell him how much she loved and adored him not in spite of his flaws, but because they were nothing compared to how he made her feel, but every time she tried to say anything, he just gave her that same, puzzled stare, so she settled for cuddling in his embrace instead.

Now even this was denied her, and his absence was taking its toll. Bristling with anger and vexation, Mila led her sentinels back to the district and took stock of the carnage, her heart heavy for all these grieving commoners. Not all districts could be so lucky as to have Bulat in charge, and even he lost almost half his militia defending District Twenty-Three, albeit against a force three times the size of the one that struck here. Despite the Enemy’s smaller numbers, the paltry Defiled force somehow managed to break through District Twenty-Six’s gate and leave a trail of slaughter behind them as they made their way into the town proper, where they looted what they could before setting fire to multiple buildings filled with people and provisions. Thick clouds of ash hung heavy in the air as she followed the trail of destruction into town to seek out the officer in charge, a Captain by the name of Pu Tong according to the Sendings her scouts had received, but he was nowhere to be found. In fact, the entire district was suffering from a lack of leadership, as aside from putting out the fires, there was little to nothing else being done aside from plenty of weeping and wailing. While these unfortunate souls had plenty to cry about, they would have plenty of time for it later once the wounded were cared for and the district cleared of bodies.

After learning the district’s mayor left for the Northern Citadel nearly a week ago, Mila stepped in and took charge of the situation, organizing the militia and villagers to stack funeral pyres and salvage what they could of the broken cast-iron gates. Despite having been hacked apart by Defiled weapons, the iron could be melted and reused and the people living here needed a clear path in and out of the district, even if Luo-Luo decided to uproot everyone living here and find them new homes elsewhere along the border. She had yet to go to such great lengths, but the overworked woman mentioned the possibility the last time Mila saw her, and if there were ever a time or place to do so, it would be here and now. Regardless of what lay in store for the denizens of District Twenty-Six, there was little she could do for them besides help them move past this initial loss and focus on the future ahead.

Not ten minutes later, she found the missing Captain Pu Tong, when he strode back in through the gates as bold as could be and demanded to speak with the officer in charge. Eager to give him plenty of rope to hang himself, Mila asked Tursinai to Conceal them both and followed Yorhu to meet the Captain, a man with no distinguishing characteristics whatsoever, right down to his standard issue uniform and basic ponytail hairstyle. “What took you so long?” Pu Tong snapped, his cheeks flushed with self-righteous rage. “The Defiled were upon us and you were nowhere to be found! Nowhere! Because of your dereliction, they almost burned the damned district to the ground! My superiors will hear of this, and there will be consequences! Serious. Consequences!”

“How were the Defiled able to break through the gates so quickly?” Knowing what Mila wanted to hear, Yorhu ignored the captain’s toothless threats and cut straight to the quick. “I see no signs of fighting on the outer walls, nor any indication the standard countermeasures were put into play.”

Mila had noticed this too, as well as the marked absence of crossbow bolts embedded in the fields outside. Rather than answer the questions, Captain Pu Tong bristled with indignation and got right up into Yorhu’s face. “I do not answer to you,” he growled, stopping just short of using whatever slur he had in mind. It was well known that Rain had served with the Sentinels, but some people would always see them as tribal savages little better than the Defiled, and it was clear Captain Pu Tong was one of them. “I am a captain of the Imperial Army and I will not be spoken down to by the likes of you.”

Perhaps Luo-Luo would have remained Concealed a little longer, and Yan might have as well, but Mila was in no mood for games any longer. “Answer the question,” she snapped, taking no delight in the Captain’s surprise as he registered her presence. Despite his obvious dismay over coming face to face with ‘The Legate’s Wife’, which was no doubt how he saw her, Mila found it aggravating to have to ride on Rain’s coattails instead of building up a reputation of her own, but there was no helping it any longer. The rice was cooked, so Mila had no choice but to do her best and hope that her actions and achievements would eventually speak for themselves.

For now, she would settle for Captain Pu Tong answering Yorhu’s question, a feat the unremarkable man seemed utterly incapable of accomplishing. “F-Forgiveness, Imperial Consort. T-The Defiled c-came out of nowhere,” he sputtered, stuck somewhere between a bow and a salute as he tried and failed to do both at the same time, “And r-reinforcements were n-nowhere in sight.”

“I gathered as much,” Mila retorted, sounding much calmer than she felt. “Seeing how the Defiled were already in the district when I arrived. What I want to know is how they got there so quickly.”

“The m-militia on the w-walls did nothing to slow their approach,” Pu Tong sputtered, wide-eyed and quivering from head to foot. “S-so I ordered them to hold to the last.”

“As they should.” Not really, but they should’ve at least put up a decent enough fight. “Then what happened?”

Pu Tong’s answer was a long time coming, and Mila could see the mental gymnastics the man’s mind was going through, as well as the exact instant he came up with a workable excuse. “I do not know,” he began, rushing through the admission as quickly as possible. “I placed a militia man in charge and set off with my soldiers to search for reinforcements. The district was doomed without your brave assistance, Imperial Consort Sumila, and this one offers his wholehearted thanks on behalf of the people here.”

The urge to throttle this fool here and now was almost overwhelming, but Mama would not be pleased by all the paperwork, even if she herself might’ve done the same. “What were your orders, Captain Pu Tong?”

“To lead the militia and hold District Twenty-Six in the event of a Defiled attack.” Again, the man rushed through this as if hoping she would hear him incorrectly. “But there was no way these walls would have held against the Enemy, not with less than twenty soldiers to guard them. There were at least five-hundred Defiled –”

First three hundred in the final report, and now their numbers swelled to five, all without Mila’s Sentinels finding hide nor hair of the rest. “Lie to me again and I’ll hang you from the walls myself.” A steady hand reached out to calm Mila’s ire, but she was not so easily pacified. “If there were five-hundred Defiled, then that means there are roughly three-hundred and fifty still at large. Before I officially make a report and call for assistance, would you care to amend your statement?”

“This one misspoke.” Falling to his knees, Captain Pu Tong slapped his face twice, once with each hand. Mila wasn’t sure if it was her threat to hang him that did the trick, or the fear of an official inquiry which would end in the same, but either way, the cowardly Captain stopped trying to lie his way out of this mess. He fled the district before the Enemy even appeared, bringing his soldiers out on a ‘scouting’ mission and leaving the militia to their own devices, which meant they were utterly defenceless against the Enemy Auras. The Defiled simply rode up to the gates unhindered while the militia all cowered in fear, helpless to do anything besides watch as their loved ones went up in flames. No wonder there were so many distraught faces in the crowd today, because despite all their training and the tales of other districts emerging victorious against the Defiled, these poor commoners learned just how weak they truly were.

Aura was not something one could prepare for, not without experiencing it for themselves. It wasn’t just fear, but more than that, an overwhelming horror that clawed its way deep into your body and stole control away from your conscious mind. Some likened it to standing before a fearsome beast or staring down from great heights, but it was this and so much more. It was the knowledge that you were utterly helpless before this Aura bearing individual, a babe upon the chopping block if someone cared enough to place you there, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. That sort of weakness was not easy for anyone to face, not even base commoners who were used to bowing and scraping for anyone of note, because even dogs had their pride, and humans considerably more. The people of this district had been shown true terror today, and in doing so, had been made that much more vulnerable to the Father’s foul whispers, and if even one of them turned because of today’s events, then the Enemy will have scored a victory here today.

They lost hundreds of Defiled tribesmen and their precious mounts, but might well have pushed thousands of souls away from the Mother’s warm embrace and into the Father’s maw. Life was fleeting, but the soul was eternal, meaning the world might have been better served if this district had been burned to the ground alongside everyone within it.

A dark and frankly absurd conclusion, Mila decided, one she only reached on account of her anger and fatigue. “Yorhu, take this fool into captivity and have him brought up on charges.” Ignoring Pu Tong’s pleas, Mila’s gaze dared him to resist so that she would have the excuse to beat him bloody, but the coward surrendered without a fight. “Dereliction of duty to start, and cowardice in the face of the Enemy as well, plus whatever else is you think of that fits.” The worst part was, Mila just knew Rain would blame himself for this tragedy even though it was clearly all Pu Tong’s fault. Had he stayed and fought, the militia would have been free to utilize spear and crossbow against their Defiled foes as opposed to stand and watch as they cut through the gates and set fire to their buildings. Men and women of the Empire still would have died, but they would have died defending their families and comrades instead of being served up like lambs for the slaughter.

Though all lives ended in death, how one died was almost as important as how one lived, and because of Pu Tong’s actions here today, these people had died for nothing.

“Better we kill him now,” Tursinai whispered, drawing Mila back into a hug, “Then let him have his trial.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” Though a Warrior through and through, Mila would’ve never taken Tursinai for a murderer, not even to bring justice to a man who deserved it. “Even if the Disciplinary Corps cannot wholly be trusted, even they will not let this coward go unpunished.” In fact, their judgment might be much worse than a quick drop and a sudden stop, because while there were several crimes punishable by death, the Justicars were very particular about what crimes deserved what sort of death. Hanging was generally reserved for deserters, quartering for cowards and dissidents, beheading for murderers, the list went on and on, and Mila was hoping the Disciplinary Corps would make an example of Pu Tong.

“He is not the only soldier who lacks faith in the militia,” Tursinai whispered, staring daggers into Pu Tong’s back as Yorhu brought him away. “If others seek to make an issue of this, they could twist his cowardice into prudence and say he was preserving the only fighting force available. One can hardly expect twenty soldiers to hold out against a hundred and fifty Defiled.”

“But the militias have proven to be effective against the Enemy,” Mila protested, not understanding the issue. “It wasn’t twenty against a hundred and fifty, but two-thousand twenty against one hundred fifty.”

“And therein lies the issue, sweet Mila.” Sighing as she tightened her embrace, Tursinai’s voice took on a tone Mila had never heard from the cheery woman: resignation. “Little Rain has shown the world how effective a mere commoner can be, armed only with a crossbow and a few weeks of training. You and I see this as a blessing, but those in power only see a threat, for the sheep they’ve lorded over for so long have finally grown fangs, and though wolves, tigers, and dragons are still more deadly, the sheep outnumber them all by an enormous margin.” Shaking her head, Tursinai switched to Sending and added, “Do you remember when Rain told us about his conversation with Dastan and BoShui? The one they had in the tunnels underneath Yo Ling’s island? He talked about restoring the Balance of power, but also mentioned that giving power to the common people was worthless.”

Mila remembered the conversation well, but only because she thought it was another one of Rain’s flights of fancy. “...He said ‘They have to rise up and take it for themselves’.” Covering her mouth in a mixture of fear and astonishment, she shook her head in denial and Sent, “But he also said bloody revolution wasn’t the right way to go about it, that slow, gradual change was required, change brought about by education and meritocracy.”

“That he did, because he knows the Enemy is an even greater threat to us all, but wise as he is, little Rain cannot control the hearts of all men.” Resting her temple against Mila’s, Tursinai stifled another sigh before breaking off their embrace. “He’s shown the common people how much power they wield, and whether he leads them or not, there will be those who seek to use it, and not always for the better. I fear your husband has given us the means to win one war and put us on the path towards another, but perhaps time will prove me wrong.”

Though she tried to sound hopeful, Tursinai utterly failed to convey even a shred of optimism and sent Mila spiralling into introspection. It wasn’t just rebellion and revolution she worried about, but also how much bloodier inter-faction strife would become once they started raising commoner armies of their own, soldiers who would most certainly not all be volunteers. Humans were warlike in nature, but the threat of the Enemy and the supremacy of Martial Warriors generally kept everyone in check. Now... now Mila was not so sure how things would turn out, but she certainly feared for the worst.

And Rain knew this would happen, or at least guessed as much, and he told everyone who would listen too, but for some reason, it seemed so far-fetched at the time no one paid him any mind. Perhaps Mila was the stupid one, and he the brilliant visionary, but she knew her husband well, and he would most certainly not sit idly by while the world devolved into bloodshed and chaos around him.

Especially not if he was the spark which set it all off, because then he would never forgive himself.

Fool. He might be the spark, but what of the nobles who carelessly threw oil and tinder all about? What of the Father and His foul minions whispering sweet lies in the ears of evil men and spurring them on to all manner of atrocities? What of those who saw the good Rain did and sought to twist it to their own advantage? How could Rain possibly hold himself responsible for factors outside his control? Arrogance is what it was, sheer conceit and ego driving him on, and Mila almost wished she could beat it out of her husband.

Alas, knowing him, Rain would just dig in his heels and refuse to change his ways out of sheer spite.

Her mood dark and thoughts darker, Mila stayed the night to help get the district in order and even left half of her Sentinels to help defend it. This was overstepping her bounds, and she was sure to be lectured by Mama, but Mila couldn’t leave those poor villagers undefended, nor could she count on the Imperial Army to send a competent replacement. Generally, the district postings were not by any stretch desirable and the sad truth of the matter was that most would see it as punishment. Either they spent their time guarding commoners with no chance of promotion and without the comforts of the Citadel, or they would find themselves in battle against the Defiled with only a pittance of soldiers and thousands of commoners to depend on. Idiots one and all. While hardly dependable, Bulat, Ravil, Sai Chou, and a number of other volunteers from Rain’s retinue had proven that with fair warning, good leadership, and the district defences, the militia could not only hold out against the Defiled, they could even emerge victorious without the need for reinforcements.

Granted, some were costly victories, like the defence of District fifty-five that saw four out of five defenders killed because some cavalry commander got spooked by the darkness of night and took his sweet time getting his forces to the district, but they were victories nonetheless.

In hindsight, that might’ve been the reason why Pu Tong tried to flee from his post, because he was worried reinforcements would not arrive in time and he would be left with a bloody fight on his hands, but District Twenty-Six came under attack shortly after noon and Mila arrived hot on the heels of the Enemy. Still, only the Mother knows why She saw fit to bless some cowards with Martial strength, as Mila knew many a commoner with the hearts of Warriors, yet could never find success at Core Formation. It wasn’t fair, but such is life, and Mila did not pretend to even try and understand why.

That was largely Rain’s problem at times. He could never accept a fact that was evident before his eyes at face value, and always wanted to delve deeper and understand the intricacies of everything. It was also a part of his charm, his boundless curiosity, and Mila wished they could go back to simpler days when she had the answers to most of his questions...

Rather than report to Mama upon returning to the Citadel, Mila brought Zabu to his pack where sweet Shana lay in wait. There were plenty of other quins and pups about, but the irritable quin headed straight to his mate and pups to snuggle and groom them. Never mind that his pups were already too large for him to lift, Zabu paid no mind to this minor detail and set to cuddling sweet Kishi, here for the week while Grandpa Du ‘secretly’ followed Yan and Kyung around in Concealment. It was stupid, but also adorable, especially how Yan and Kyung played along yet instructed their guards to leave extra food and tea for him because they worried he wouldn’t mind his diet and just gorge on travel rations or worse. Mila knew Mama and Papa used to do the same for her, but she was older and more capable now and didn’t need the supervision, plus they were busy managing their own endeavours. Not to say Yan needed the supervision either, but Mila just thought it was sweet, and she missed knowing that if she ever wanted a hug from her parents, she would only ever have to stretch her arms and speak.

Now, she was a woman grown, married out of her old family into a new one, and while things were mostly the same, it was the minor details that made everything seem completely different. For example, Mama, Papa, and Li-Li would often go out to have dinner with just the three of them, which was fine, but Mila couldn’t remember the last time she’d done anything with just the four of them. It wasn’t fair to expect the best of both worlds, but now, with Rain away visiting the Brotherhood alongside Lin-Lin and Li-Li, Yan off serving in Central to give Grandpa Du face, and Luo-Luo working day and night to fulfill Rain’s Office duties, Mila wanted to lean on Mama and Papa again, but didn’t know how to fall back into old patterns.

Honestly, Mila missed the pets more than she cared to admit. It was hard enough falling asleep without Rain’s shoulder to nuzzle, but she’d also gotten used to the weight of Aurie sprawled across her legs and sweet Guai-Guai tucked against her chin...

“What’s this I hear of you leaving half your retinue in District Twenty-Six?” Despite holding more amusement than reproach, Mama’s tone sent Mila into a tizzy as she leapt to attention like a good cadet. Smiling wryly as she patted her cheek, Mama settled in next to Zabu and gently swatted the quin’s head when he growled in her direction. Miracle of miracles, he actually quieted down and even moved so Kishi could rest in Mama’s lap while he lay atop his pup, making for an adorably cozy picture of woman and her quins. Technically, they were Yan’s, but Mama could’ve been a quin trainer in another life as she was accepted by each and every pack. “Well girl?” Mama asked, raising an eyebrow in question. “What of your retinue?”

“I had to, there was no other choice. See...” Unable to help herself, Mila sank into her Mama’s embrace and it felt so easy and natural she wondered why she was ever worried in the first place. When she was done speaking, she took a moment to mourn for the poor people of District Twenty-Six before asking, “So what will happen to them now? There is a concern that they might...” Turn Defiled themselves due to trauma or whatnot, and towns had been purged for far less. “Will they...?”

“If you are so concerned, you should have stayed with them longer. No half measures girl. You remember why?”

“Because half-measures only lead to full-failures.” The answer left her lips before Mila had time to even think about it, a lesson Mama had drilled into her time and time again. “Wait,” she asked, blinking in confusion. “You think I should have stayed?”

“Why not?” Stroking Mila’s hair and Kishi’s head with the same tender care, Mama said, “Another unit had already taken your place on the response line, so you and yours would have been free to help the district for the next week if needed. Those people were betrayed by the Warriors sent to defend them, and while your presence cannot bring the dead back to life, for the Legate’s Consort to personally assist in the repairs would speak volumes to everyone who heard of it.” Seeing Mila’s wide-eyed awe, Mama scoffed and said, “No need to go moon-eyed on me girl. I have no head for politics, but after spending so much time with Luo-Luo and Yuzhen, even a damn rock would pick up a lesson or three.”

“Should I go back?”

“Only if you wish to, but politically, the chance is already lost.” Shrugging, Mama added, “Do not forget, although more than a quarter of the district’s population died in the attack, you still saved a great many lives. Try not pick up your husband’s worst traits, sweet Mila; he is enough to handle as it is, and I fear my shoulders too weak to bear both your burdens of guilt.”

Giggling in spite of herself, Mila hugged Mama tight and sighed. “Sorry Mama. I just... I miss him.”

“Separation, even temporary, is difficult, so I suppose it is understandable for you to falter this first time.” Hugging her back, Mama added, “But know that your father and I will always be here for you, if you should ever need us.” Her eyes lighting up with warmth and affection, Mama asked, “Have you seen the new pups yet? Atir finally brought them out and all nine are present and accounted for.”

“Nine?!” Surprised and elated by this unexpected blessing, Mila leapt to her feet and helped Mama up as well. Though she knew Atir had laid nine eggs and all of them hatched, she also knew something the rest of them had kept hidden from Rain; usually less than half a clutch would survive past the first week, when the pups’ eyes were still closed and their movements feeble. After keeping her eggs warm for months, the mother quin would be weakened from lack of exercise and nourishment, and oftentimes the mother would eat one or more of her babies, starting with the weakest. Rain liked to go on about how animals were better than people, and while Mila didn’t want to disabuse him of the notion, she also knew that trials and tribulations were not reserved solely for humans.

Back at the manor, she greeted Atir with a squeal and hugged the sweet quin tight, only to melt as she and Mafu deposited their babies into Mila’s hands. Quins were notoriously overcautious with their pups, and this show of trust warmed Mila’s heart, to the point where she couldn’t even imagine giving away any of these pups. Nine babies, five females and four males, all bright-eyed and full of life despite their tiny little forms. They would grow quickly in the next few months, then slow until they reached full maturity at three, but alas, they would never be more adorable than they were now, with their soft baby fuzz still yet to give way to the harder, coarser fur of adulthood.

A shame Rain wasn’t here to share in this moment, but hopefully, he would be back before the pups were large enough to ride.

As if sensing her heartache, Mafu settled in around her, no doubt exhausted from supplying so many mouths with food. Not that he suffered any for it, as he was still bigger and fatter than most quins, but while size would’ve made Zabu look fearsome and intimidating, Mafu was just that much more cuddly and lovable, laid out on his back in plaintive demand for belly rubs while his pups climbed over his chest and neck.

Then the quin sat up and snarled, and this was all the warning Mila and Mama had, as Wraiths appeared out of the shadows to attack.

“Take cover!” Mama called, shouting over the din of battle, a cacophonous symphony of metal on metal that was only growing in speed and intensity. Even saying this much was more than she could spare as a Wraith blade cut across her forearm and carved flesh down to the bone. Choking back on her cry for fear of distracting Mama, Mila’s mind raced as she drew her spear and shield and sought refuge from the battle, but Atir and Mafu pressed in around her and trusted her to guard their pups, so she could hardly leave them here exposed all by their lonesome.

This was not the first Wraith attack, nor would it be the last, but it was Mila’s first and the descriptions could not do them justice. Mama’s movements were a blur and her opponents merely shifting shadows, to the point where Mila wasn’t even sure how many enemies there were. Not an overwhelming number at the very least, else Mama would’ve long since fallen, meaning four or five at the most, with others engaging the guards and protectors. Usually even ten Wraiths were nothing before Mama’s axe-lance, but these Wraiths had mastered a technique which made them particularly difficult to deal with. Some form of illusion that made it seem like there were four Wraiths instead of one, so despite Mama’s valiant efforts, she was fending off what appeared to be sixteen to twenty foes all by her lonesome. To make matters worse, Mila had no doubt the Wraiths were using her presence to threaten Mama, which meant she needed to get out of the way so Mama could fight freely and without concern.

Or...

The shifting shadows drank in the light, but not all of it, and Mila sensed that there was a limit to their strength. Working on Insight more than understanding, she unleashed her Radiant Chi once more and banished the darkness before her, stripping away the illusions and revealing the Wraiths for what they were. Mila barely had time to blink before the battle came to a standstill, with Mama looming over her while the Wraiths fell to the ground dead and defeated.

“Come with me,” Mama said, grabbing Mila’s arm and Cloud-Stepping into battle, and again, Mila revealed the Wraiths’ true positions and turned the tide against them. After their third quick victory, the Wraiths caught on and fled, but Mama continued to pursue them with Mila in hand, emanating Radiant Chi right up until she was almost ready to faint.

“Mama,” Mila called, and suddenly, the world stopped shifting. “I think...”

“Of course. You are almost out of Chi.” Patting her cheeks in apology, Mama’s warm eyes were full of radiant love and glowing approval. “Well done girl, well done. Quick thinking there, to recognize that the Wraiths’ abilities were some form of Blessing. Shadow perhaps, or something even more esoteric than that.” Mila wanted to say she hadn’t known, that Insight had guided her to the right answer, but she lacked the energy to even hold her head up as she sank into Mama's warm embrace. “Rest, oh daughter of mine,” Mama said, and Mila felt her feet lift off the ground. “Rest, and we will speak of this when you wake.”

It was nice being safe and sound in Mama’s arms, but hopefully, the day Mila rested like this in Rain’s arms would not be too far away. The man fought off some forty Wraiths, if not more, all by himself and without support, so surely he was strong enough to carry his cute and dainty wife, right?

Chapter Meme