Savage Divinity

Something’s not right, but I know exactly how to fix it.

Conjuring up yet another pillow, I set it down under my doggy’s chin just to make sure he’s extra comfy, and give him a few more scritches while I’m at it. Curled up on my bed with the blankets covering his head, Buddy sighs in contentment and closes his eyes to sleep, exhausted after our long walk around the Natal Palace. Not entirely true, considering he is a creature of soul and emotion living in an environment of the same, meaning he could ‘walk’ from now until the end of time without growing tired so long as my Natal Palace remains intact, but sometimes, when dealing with your pets, it’s nice to put reality aside and pretend they’re real people.

The truth is much less fun, in that Buddy is my Natal Guardian and is tired because I myself am physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted after staying up for multiple nights in a row in an effort to convince my waking self to go find Kukku. I don’t understand why Buddy is exhausted while I still feel fresh as a daisy, nor do I understand why he chose to sleep on the bed rather than on the office chair, which I figured was my Natal Throne. Then again, maybe I’ve been taking the word ‘throne’ too literally, as there’s no reason it has to be an actual chair. Pong Pong’s Throne is a coral bed, and Ping Ping’s was a mud bank, so maybe my whole bedroom is my Natal Throne, the safe space where I oversee my entire Natal Palace, and the chair and computer are just the envisioned mediums through which I control it. Still doesn’t answer why Buddy needs to sleep and I don’t, but it is convenient considering I have things to do and people to see.

Giving Buddy a kiss on the head and another on the snoot, I quietly back out of the room so as not to disturb him. Closing the door ever so gently, my hand lingers on the handle as I fight the urge to go back inside to greet him, knowing just how happy and excited he’ll be to see me again, to hear his squeaky cries of greeting as he circles around me, all the while wagging his tail so hard his whole butt shakes. Part of me recognizes that this probably isn’t healthy, depending so much on a dog I’ve already lost once before, but I can’t help it. Buddy is not just a dog, he’s my dog, and he was with me for a huge part of my past life. Just having him here with me makes me feel more real, more sane and not so crazy anymore, because he is proof that I existed in a past life in another world, something more than just vague memories and recollections. Though I might still be a stranger in a foreign land and possibly even an invader in a stolen body, I am still Rayne and Falling Rain both, my past and my present coming together to create a brand new me. While I’ve experienced this more literally than most, this is how it is for everyone, because no one is the same person they were two seconds ago. So long as we draw breath, we humans are forever changing, adapting, growing, and developing, becoming someone new with every step we take on this journey called life.

And though we all must forge our own paths, we never do so alone, because every person we meet and interact with comes along for the journey in some way. My dog, my family, my wives, my pets, my friends, my allies, my enemies, and even casual acquaintances, each of them have shaped me in some way and left their marks on my soul, however minor it might be. These marks might not always be permanent, but the most substantial ones will not only shape my path forward, but will also be carried with me from this life into the next, and every life thereafter. Maybe in my next life, I’ll rely on Aurie, Mama Bun, or someone else entirely to get me through the darkest of times, but here and now, Buddy is my rock, the moral foundation upon which I build my ethical guidepost. Honestly, not the worst choice to make, considering he was the sweetest dog ever, though I am a little worried I’ll develop an irrational hatred of squirrels and intense fixation on chasing balls. It’s okay though. Buddy is the most loyal companion a man could ask for, and if he starts affecting my thoughts and behaviour in a negative manner, I can just fine tune the amount of influence his soul has over mine. He won’t mind it at all, unlike Baledagh who resented playing second fiddle to Falling Rain, because let’s be real here; Buddy is a dog, sweet, loyal, and stupid. I mean, to be fair, having Baledagh around did help, although it probably caused more problems than it solved in the long run, but only because I insisted on treating him like an actual separate person, one with his own goals that were not always the same as mine. On the other hand, Buddy is a dog, and while I will spoil him silly, he’s still just a dog, which means I don’t feel bad if he stays in my Natal Palace all the time, because he just wants to be close to me and guard me from the bad things, even if I myself am the source of said bad things. Sure, he’ll be lonely when I’m gone, but he’s a strong, independent dog who don’t need no man, or rather needs his own personal time and space. It’ll just be like going to work everyday, and when I come home, I’ll take him on long walks and bring plenty of friends for him to play with.

...Okay, I realize reviving a long dead pet inside my imaginary mind space probably isn’t the healthiest way to deal with my unresolved issues, but if it’s stupid and it works, well then it ain’t stupid.

Backing away from the door, I teleport myself to the pier and gaze down in the depths of my Natal Lake. The waterpark has long since been hidden away after playtime finished, but the natural currents churn and writhe with the collective enmity of all the Spectres I recently Cleansed, carried down into the depths yet struggling to make its way out again. That’s Buddy’s work, as he closed off the Natal Fissure which was dumping all my bad juju out into the Void and essentially trapping all those negative emotions shed by the Spectres. I considered closing the fissure myself for the sake of Balance, as negative emotions have their place just as positive ones do too, but there’s more at work here than I consciously understand. The symbolism was previously lost to me, but I now realize this lake represents more than just the Cleansing waters of my soul, but is also indicative of the power at my disposal. Most of the lake water is just Chi, but a small, minute portion of it is usable Heavenly Energy. There was a time when I kept the latter in a bowl atop my nightstand, but now I understand that Chi, Water Chi, and Heavenly Energy are really all one and the same, though I have yet to comprehend how to properly utilize it. In this, I am no different from any other Martial Warrior, because while Chi can do anything Heavenly Energy is capable of doing, the limits are not in the type of energy used, but rather our imperfect understanding of how to utilize what we have at our disposal.

In short, using Chi is like cooking from scratch, while Heavenly Energy is ordering a pre-packaged meal. Both are still food, and can even taste exactly the same, but the difference lies in my own understanding of what goes into the whole process and the effort required. Maybe there’s a better way to explain it, but that’s the best I got now, though I’m still not sure if I’m right.

As for these negative emotions trapped inside my Natal Lake, I know emotion is power, so I would be a fool to vent it all into the void, as I have been all this time. If Buddy thought keeping all of this bad juju would harm me, he would’ve done away with it in an instant, but he deliberately closed my Natal Fissure and kept all this enmity contained here. It’s odd, because I should know everything he knows, and I know he knows that this is a good thing to do, but I have no idea why he did what he did because he doesn’t know either. He just knows, and that’s enough for him, which I suppose should be good enough for me too.

Hmm... It seems like having Buddy around has not done anything to improve my indecisive nature. Not that I should’ve expected it to, because why would it? I’m still me, whether Buddy is around or not, and only I can change myself if I so desire it. Putting aside my questions of the Martial Path and emotions, I focus on more pressing issues as I raise my head and stare out into the Void. Overhead, the rifts still lies open and unguarded, but the torrent of invading Spectres has long since come to an end. Only the black stillness of the unending Void lingers to greet me, inviting me out into its cold, dark embrace, and I would be a fool to not be afraid. This stillness is unnatural, for the Void is all encompassing, and the measly few Spectres I’ve already Devoured were nothing more than a side dish in the grand scheme of things. I feel that someone or something has cut me off from the Void, placed a barrier between me and the vast emptiness I see laid out before me, which likely means I have once again caught Zhen Shi’s attention.

Stepping outside unprepared might well be fitting the noose around my neck, and yet leave I must, because I require aid and answers, which I will only receive if I am able to make my way over to the Abbot’s Natal Palace.

It wasn’t too long ago when Zhen Shi tricked me into leaving the safety of my Natal Palace and trapped me in a living hell of his own design, and that experience nearly unmade me. This time however, if he is waiting out there, then I will not be caught unawares. I will not be powerless like I was before, because now I have an inkling of how to fight him. Though these past few days, I’ve been unable to contest the Spectres out in the Void, I now understand that this isn’t because I can’t fight them, but because I didn’t know how to. Spectres are emotion bound in slivers of soul, just like the Natal Souls I sent out to do good in the world, which was why Gen Shi let slip about how surprisingly apt my naming sense was. Spectres are simply Natal Souls by another name, ones filled with hatred, suffering, vitriol, and all other manner of negative emotions, and it is for this reason why I was unable to fight them.

Not because they’re strong and I’m weak, but because I forgot how to arm myself with the proper weapons.

Peace and Tranquility appear in my hands, so naturally it’s almost as if they were always there, my hands closing around hilt and handle with barely a second thought. My armour blinks into existence, the golden Runic plate modelled after Shen ZhenWu’s trappings, but on a whim, they transform into something more familiar and comforting, dark Sentinelarmour made of carnugator leather, with open mouthed beasts on each shoulder alongside a bestial helmet fashioned in the same style. I keep a few things from the Legate’s armour, like the character etched across my chest, the open-mouthed turtle on my belt, and the various animals depicted across the armour to liven things up, but at the core of it all is the armour I wore briefly during the Society’s Contest. Alsantset and Charok gifted it to me, and even though I didn’t have it for long before my skirmishes against the Society Adherents tore it apart, I always loved how it looked and the thought they put into this princely gift. I lost an arm and almost my life to the carnugators, so my sister had this armour made from one of the carnugators I killed and specifically requested it be reminiscent of the overgrown lizards, because she knew the symbolism would help me overcome my fear, and it worked magnificently. I never really developed a trauma over carnugators, because she showed me that I had already conquered them, and therefore had no reason to fear them again.

Hang on. Is this why the Defiled make armour out of their enemies? Maybe I should kill Gen and keep his metallic hands as a trophy. Gruesome, I know, but I mean if it works...

Much like the last time I faced Gen Shi in my Natal Palace, I make sure my armour is Runic in nature and feel my confidence gradually building in the back of my mind. The armour protects me because I believe it will protect me, that’s the basic premise of power in the Void. That’s why the Spectres are ugly and bestial in form, to scare me into believing they can hurt me. Maybe they actually can, but my belief in their abilities makes them that much stronger, and while I might not be able to render them weak and helpless with faith and conviction alone, these weapons and armour infused with my emotions should allow me to at least hurt them.

Just to have another weapon in my back pocket, I bottle up the worst of the Cleansed emotions into a dozen gourds hanging off my belt, as well as a few gourds of pure Heavenly Energy. I’m not sure how to use them, but I do know they should come in handy if I’m caught in a pinch. Spectres are weaponized emotion, so I might as well fight fire with fire, right?

The only thing missing is Unity, and while there’s nothing stopping me from materializing the transforming glaive in hand, a vague sense of uncertainty strikes me as I consider doing just that, a gut feeling that says it’s too soon for this. Though worried I might just be second guessing myself, I decide it’s best left for later when I have more time to reflect on my memories and emotions from my third binding ceremony and move onto more pressing matters. The Void beckons to me, calling me to step out into its cold, dark embrace, and though I’d be lying if I said I had no reservations about accepting the invitation, I’m about as ready as I can be at the moment, so there’s no time like the present. Armed and armoured in faith and conviction, I step through the rift –

And find myself seated in my courtyard manor, with my beautiful wives by my side.

Mila clutches my right arm while Yan has my left, radiating heat from their scantily clad bodies as they press themselves against me. Their unrestrained hunger making them more bold and adventurous than I’ve ever seen, and I yearn to give myself over to them and fulfill their every desire. Mounting a leg each, they pull me into their embrace and I lose myself in the heady, intoxicating haze of lust and longing, my carnal appetite unleashed and ready to be sated. Their smooth, silken skin, their soft, tender flesh, their fresh, carnal scent, I take it all in and only crave more as my mounting desire peaks and –

“Arf.”

Two, heavy paws land on my stomach and I double over in surprise, only to find myself sitting in bed with Buddy staring at me in what I can only describe as tired discontent. “Really?” he says, using only his eyes and body language to convey the message, not the young puppy eager to play, but the old dog letting me know in no uncertain terms that he’s tired of my shit and wants to sleep. “This is what you woke me up for? C’mon man. Get it together.”

Still shaken by my rude awakening, I absently squish his smooshy face and give his head a vigorous scratch, which is enough to earn me all the goodwill I lost and more. Trusting me to handle things on my own again, Buddy curls back up and settles in for a snooze as I wrap his blankets around him and place the pillow back beneath his chin. Once he’s suitably pampered, I slide off the bed and tiptoe out once again before teleporting back out to stand before the rift once again. This time, instead of barrelling through the barrier with all the grace and finesse of a bull in a china shop, I stop to study it again and sense a familiar presence there, one I’d missed the first time around because I was so fixated on Zhen Shi. That’s not who’s out there waiting for me, and I’ve an inkling suspicion who it might be, so I kindle an Aura filled with an emotional message I’ve only ever been on the receiving end of.

“Play?”

“Bwak-bwak?!”

The response is immediate, confused curiosity followed by gleeful recognition, and my request for access is granted with a note of eager impatience. Accepting the invitation with a thought, I close my eyes as the world shifts around me and open them once things settle in place. Standing before me is none other than Kukku himself, a tiny, mouse-sized chicken to my human-sized self, but a thought is all it takes to fix that perspective. Strutting about with wings spread wide, Kukku clucks up a storm while doing a little dance of greeting, running circles around me and expressing his heartfelt contentment to have me here. The rooster’s Natal Palace seems like a humble one as far as such things go, his Throne a simple dried grass nest that has been crafted to near perfection and tucked away in a cozy little cave that the two of us can barely stand in. Judging by the rising sun, Kukku’s cave faces south and is warmed and well-lit throughout most of the day, and there is no doubt in my mind that is why he chose this spot to nest in. Alas, there are no eggs for him to perch atop, nor any other amenities for the rooster to enjoy, which tells me either Kukku’s Natal Palace isn’t as well defined as one might expect, or his needs are so simple this is all that’s required to satisfy his desires.

Or at least, that’s what I thought until Kukku brings me outside the cave to see the world he’s created, a stunning reproduction of the Brotherhood’s monastery and the verdant mountain oasis around it. Though many of the details seem a bit fuzzy and the perspective a little off, everything is almost instantly recognizable as I realize exactly where we are. Wings still spread on either side, Kukku runs up the rocky path while looking back to make sure I follow, clucking all the while. Allowing myself to get caught up in the moment, I chase after him with a grin and laugh as he leaps into the air with feigned fright. Picking up the pace, he disappears into the brushes, but I can still sense his presence for he is poorly Concealed, knowing that I will never find him if he goes all out. Hide and seek is Kukku’s game of choice, and I am more than happy to indulge him, pretending to search high and low even though I’ve already spotted his hiding place, crouched in the shadow of a tree and peering out at me with his big, adorable eyes. The thrill and tension of almost being found is all part of the fun, while the practice and experience he gains in a lifesaving skill is just an added bonus. It’s the same way Ping Ping and Pong Pong love playing tag, to help hone their skills at chasing and being chased, while Mama Bun just likes running for the sake of running, without need to play a role as predator or prey.

As for Buddy? Dogs are supposed to love playing fetch, but while he’s happy to chase anything I throw, the game invariably turns into tug of war when he brings the toy back but refuses to let go. No take, only throw, that’s his mindset when it comes to fetch, only proving he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. That’s something I love about him though, his big, dumb, adorable self, a dog who is neither traditionally handsome or remotely elegant, just a silly mutt that loves me no matter what.

The first time I find him, Kukku leaps with joy and flutters his wings while bawk-bawking all about, emitting a range of emotions too jumbled and chaotic for me to interpret with any accuracy. Best I can tell is he’s happy and nostalgic, stamping his feet repeatedly in the shade of the big tree. There’s a message here meant for me to understand, but it’s lost in translation as he cycles through his emotions too quickly, from fear and anger to comfort and relief, a deluge of sensations that Kukku is all too happy to share. Then, before I can explain my confusion, he crows to the sun and disappears once more, leaving to let me find him again.

His second hiding spot is inside the monastery proper, in a shed around the back which is now used for tool storage, but in Kukku’s Natal Palace, it’s a chicken coop instead. Hay and feed are scattered across the ground, and again, the silly rooster bombards me with emotion while doing a little chicken dance, albeit a muted one seeing how he’s constrained by the small size of the shack. As far as I can tell, he was furious to be here, then happy and relieved again, but I still can’t understand the message he’s trying to convey.

And so it continues, the same game followed by the same story and dance as Kukku brings me to all his favourite spots, including the monastery bell tower, the mountain paths behind the monastery, the oasis shore close to where the Defiled are now camped, and even the pit of worms Guard Leader almost inadvertently led us into. Going there would’ve been a death sentence for all of us, but Kukku sees it as a hunting spot where he goes to grab a delicious bite every few days. Those ugly, carrion worms emitted some sort of unnatural power, one that I’m not sure I could’ve defended against, but they’re nothing to Kukku who grew up in these parts and might well be the veritable king of the Arid Wastes. Kinda hilarious considering he’s scared of most things, but to be fair, he is a chicken.

Around the tenth time Kukku does his little emotion-filled song and dance, the message finally clicks with me. Much like when Ping Ping and Pong Pong brought me on a tour of their Natal Palaces, Kukku is sharing his life story with me, showing me where all these important events took place. I don’t know what events he’s trying to convey, but there’s an element of safety and comfort in all of them, one I think I might have already identified. “Did you come here with the Abbot?” I ask, and Kukku’s expression perks up at the mention of his friend, and I swear the rooster nods like... well, like a chicken pecking grains. “He brought you to all these places, didn’t he? Helped you become a Spiritual Beast. Probably found you in the wild and tamed you first though, so he wouldn’t have to worry about you turning wild and powerful.” Though Kukku doesn’t understand all the words I’m using, I like to think he’s picking up on the general gist of what I’m saying, as I have more practice than he does when it comes to communicating through Aura. The silly rooster can’t even use Emotional Aura in the real world, though I have no idea what it is that keeps him from doing so. I do know that Aura is usually the last milestone for Spiritual Beasts, though I have no idea why considering it’s usually the second or third after Core Creation for humans. If anything, I would’ve thought Aura would come easier to animals, seeing how in touch with their own needs and emotions they are. Then again, you could argue that this is because animals are controlled by their emotions rather than the ones in control, beholden to instinct and inclination for survival while humans usually try to rise above them.

Of course, this whole experience brings me to another question, which is why did Pong Pong, Ping Ping, and Kukku all feel the need to tell me their life’s story as seen in their Natal Palace?

The question lingers in the back of my head as we continue to play hide and seek, until Kukku brings me to a cave I’ve never seen, but recognize from Jorani’s descriptions. “This is where Vyakhya hid GangShu and the Ascendants,” I say, more for my benefit than his. Judging by the torrent of glee, guilt, alarm, and anxiety, I somehow sense Kukku is telling me the story of how he met Jorani, a suspicion cemented in place when the rooster stands at the narrow pass and blocks an unseen but supposedly terrifying figure from passing. This rooster is so dramatic, but I love it, except now I’ve been reminded of why I’m here. “Hang on a second, Kukku.” Pausing mid-story, the rooster cocks his head at the sound of his name, expectantly waiting for me to continue. “I need to see the Abbot. Can you bring me to him?” Feathers deflating now that playtime is over, the rooster looks so sad I can’t help but add, “We can play later, I promise.”

That puts a little pep in his step, and he brings me back to the desert dwelling where I found the Abbot in real life, only here in the Natal Palace, Kukku has no need to go inside. Resting his beak on my shoulder, he seeks a comforting embrace as he grieves for his friend and father, the Abbot who hand raised him from a chick and guided him along the... not the Martial Path, but Kukku’s Path, whatever it might be. People who say animals don’t feel emotions the same way people do just haven’t spent enough time around them, and Kukku’s concern is all the proof anyone should ever need. He knows the Abbot needs help and wishes he could do something about it, but alas, he’s just a chicken and doesn’t understand what’s happening.

Sadly, he doesn’t think there’s anything I can do either, but he’s not going to stop me from trying.

Rubbing his cheeks in fond farewell, I make no promises as I slip out into the Void, guided to my destination by Kukku’s unspoken directions. Again, I close my eyes as the world shifts around me, and when I open them once more, I stand in the monastery once more, but a different monastery from the one I visited judging by the vast body of water stretching out across the horizon. The salty tang of the air tells me we’re probably by the ocean, though I have little else to go on besides that, but almost everything else about the monastery is exactly the same, from the plain, stone courtyard to the carved pillars full of characters I can’t read.

Standing at the back of the courtyard, I turn my gaze upon the monks seated before me in quiet meditation, the instruments of their self-inflicted punishments nowhere to be found. Instead, they sit with hands formed in a Sutra of self-study as they seek inner calm and Balance, every last one of them breathing to the beat of a drum in the hands of a wizened old monk who I do not recognize. The drum is familiar though, an exact copy of the wooden fish the Abbot used in Sinuji, though it can’t possibly be the same one. That was the Abbot’s Spiritual Weapon, and this one... well this one is also a Spiritual Weapon, but one that belongs to the old monk seated at the front of the crowd. Moving around to get a better look at the monks, I immediately spot a familiar face, but not one I expected to see here. There in the front row sits none other than Mahakala, but not the obese, ragged monk I knew in life. This Mahakala I recognize from his appearance inside his Natal Palace, a lean, chiselled man in the prime of life and clothed in spotless, unwrinkled robes. Peace and serenity are etched into his youthful features, and while they do much to ease the lines of worries in his face, this younger Mahakala has seen too much suffering to ever let himself wholly relax, even here in the company of his Brothers.

Other than him, I don’t recognize anyone else in the crowd, but that doesn’t mean the Abbot isn’t here. I can’t find him because I have no idea how the Abbot visualizes himself, but after going through the crowd a second time, I realize most of the monks looked different from the first time around. Only a select few have the same features as before, and upon further study, I notice that I’m not actually seeing faces on most of the monks, but rather my mind is filling in the blanks as I gloss over them. There’s no way the Abbot’s Natal Palace could be this unstable given how he’s a bonafide Divinity, which means... there’s something off about this scene. I’m guessing this is an illusion brought about by Kukku’s dream attack, but why the Abbot would allow it to affect him like this is a complete mystery.

“Your presence here is unexpected and unwelcome.” The Sending sounds in my mind, delivered by an unfamiliar voice, but there is no mistaking it for anyone else besides the leading monk. Eyes closed and expression neutral, he doesn’t miss a beat on his fish drum while radiating an Aura of polite suspicion. “Please be so kind as to remove yourself, lest this monk be forced to remove you himself.”

Ignoring the wizened old monk, I study the crowd once more until I spot a single frowning face, one seated towards the back and far away from his Senior Brother. “Apologies for the intrusion Abbot, but I require your assistance, and this was the only way I could speak with you.”

For long seconds, the Abbot wavers with indecision, torn between indulging in his pleasant dream and responding to my entreaty. In the end, he sighs and lets the illusion fade, leaving himself unchanged while everything else shifts in place. The monastery is still similar, but there are subtle differences in the stones and atmosphere, the ocean sounds and smells replaced by those of the Arid Wastes, a drier, earthier scent tinged with danger and uncertainty. Opening his eyes, the young Abbot slumps his shoulders and gestures for me to approach, his slow and deliberate movements giving away just how hard it is for him to move. That shouldn’t be the case, as this is technically his Natal Palace, because that’s how Kukku’s dream attack works. Unlike Zhen Shi, who favours crafting the illusion himself, Kukku simply lets the target’s own innate desires create the illusion, a far more effective method in my eyes. Zhen Shi’s method has the benefit of ensuring all details are accounted for in painstaking effort, but the downside is that it’s easy to overlook something as simple as scent or texture, which was how I got out of one or two close scrapes.

That being said, if this is one of Kukku’s illusions, then it means the meditation scene was something the Abbot wholeheartedly desired, to sit down and be in the presence of his Mentor and Senior Brother again. Meanwhile, my innermost desire was a threesome with my two wives, which is totally understandable, but still shames me and makes me feel like a filthy pervert.

...Hang on. Thanks to the medicinal baths, courtesy of Taduk, Taiyi ZhuShen, and Li TieGuai, I have a refined body that’s tougher than your average Martial Warrior. Does this mean... I can have happy fun times with Mila... without breaking any bones?

God dammit! I’ve wasted so much time already. I need to get back in working order and er... test this theory, stat!

Taking a seat in front of the Abbot, I resist the urge to launch into a litany of my own problems and study him instead. “You... don’t look well.”

“Do I not?” Gesturing at himself with a wince, he makes an effort to straighten up with pride. “Even old as I am, I am still sometimes surprised by my reflection in the water, one I barely recognize at times. This form however, this is how I saw myself for many a decade, a handsome man with a winning smile, despite never winning anyone over with it.” Frowning as he studies my features, he adds, “Odd that you see yourself as older and less handsome than you are in life Junior Brother SanDukkha, an idiosyncrasy I would gladly delve into if matters were less dire.”

SanDukkha? Oh yea, my monk name which means ‘perpetual suffering’. No one ever uses it, so I almost forgot all about it. “You know how matters are progressing in the outside world?”

“No.” Shaking his head with a knowing smile, which I cannot deny is charming, the young Abbot looks me up and down, though his gaze lingers on my many gourds of negative emotion. “But if matters were not so dire, then you would not risk the destruction of your eternal soul to come here, even if you are armed for bear.”

...See, I figured that’s what was happening here, but it’s still disconcerting to have confirmation. Even though I don’t really know what a soul entails, I don’t feel great about risking it every time I go Natal Palace delving. Then again, the fact that Pong Pong and Ping Ping are willing to come visit me and risk their souls is heartening indeed, and it might be the same with Mama Bun, except I’m pretty sure she doesn’t understand the risk. Cute as a button but dumb as a bag of rocks, that’s my sweet Mama Bun, and I love her so. Okay, so I find dumb animals adorable, sue me. “Yea well, I’m having troubles communicating in real life. No idea why.” Still reluctant to dive right in and bombard him with questions, I glance around the Abbot’s Natal Palace in search of something amiss and ask, “So... what’s happening with you?”

“I am dying.” Though delivered with a casual tone and easygoing smile, the statement hits with the force of a truck and knocks the non-existent air out of my unneeded lungs, but he continues speaking without missing a beat. “Slowly, but surely, and short of a miracle of Heaven, I fear there is no cure in sight.” Holding a hand up to forestall my argument, he does that thing people do where they read my thoughts and then later deny having ever done so. “Damage done during a battle between Divinities is not limited to mere flesh and bone. Suffice it to say, my injuries go beyond the physical, and even your unique Healing method is not enough to save me.” Pressing his hands together, he bows in apology, and it’s easy to see how much even this minor gesture costs him. “Apologies, Junior Brother SanDukkha. This monk studied your methods in secret without first obtaining permission, and has long since uncovered the secrets to your ‘undying’ flesh. A clever method, to rely on the body’s ability to naturally Heal and merely accelerate the process, though the base root of your method speaks to an unprecedented knowledge of the human body.”

That’s bait if I ever saw it, an attempt to lure me into changing the subject and moving on from the Abbot’s dilemma, but I refuse to take it. “What sort of injuries go beyond the physical?” Even as I ask the question, the answer reveals itself to me. “Damage to the soul? How can that keep you down though? Repairing the soul is easy, just... do things you enjoy. Enjoy the company of people you care about. Reflect on memories that bring you comfort and happiness. Give Kukku a hug or something. All things that are good for the soul.”

“A remarkably astute observation for one so young and unlearned.” Tilting his head, the Abbot asks, “Did Brother Mahakala tell you this? Or perhaps your Teacher, the Medical Saint? No, neither one would be so irresponsible as to share such pertinent information before you were ready and risk ruining your future progress.” Eyes lighting up in understanding, he continues, “Of course, of course. You no doubt have a unique perspective of the soul, seeing as you are the Devourer. Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.”

Partially true, but not entirely, as I owe most of my understanding to those feel-good story books, ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’. Also, I did sever a whole bunch of my Soul and Devour it again, which now that I think about it is kinda gross, like swallowing something I’d already vomited up. “Stop deflecting. Why won’t any of my proposed solutions work?”

“Because, Junior Brother SanDukkha,” the Abbot says, his expression softening into one of easy acceptance. “This monk has no more people he loves or cares about, and believes he has nothing left to live for.”

Now there’s a conversation stopper if I ever heard one, so I sit and wait for him to elaborate. Glancing about the monastery, his eyes take on a forlorn cast as he sees something I cannot, something he remembers rather than what is shown before him. “You saw the illusion, yes? The differences in the monastery? That was in a time long past, one this monk can barely recall anymore, for it was long before I Formed a Natal Palace. Though I have tried to lock those memories in place, I cannot help but wonder about the details I’d since forgotten and wish I could remember them in greater clarity, if only so that I might indulge myself a little better.” Pointing at a now vacant spot, he sighs and says, “There, my Senior Brother sat, the role model for all to aspire to.” Moving his hand to point at the front where the aged monk sat and beat out a steady rhythm on his drum, he continues, “And there sat my Mentor, my Teacher, and a man who became a father to me, for he took me in and tended to my broken self when none others would have me.”

“And now they’re both gone,” I whisper, understanding where he’s going, and the Abbot nods in reply while reflecting on memories of a past that are denied to him forevermore.

After a long silence, the Abbot heaves another sigh and brushes away an unseen tear. “Not only this, but I have ruined everything they sought to create. By passing over Senior Brother and appointing me to Abbot, my Mentor inadvertently knocked Senior Brother off his Path, a misstep I failed to help him recover from before he died at Zhu Chanzui’s hands. Under this monk’s leadership and his endeavours to better influence the mortal world, the Brotherhood was forced into hiding, and recently fractured beyond all repair. Now, the world teeters on the brink of non-existence, but its members are too indifferent to even care, and this monk does not know how to sway them to his cause. ‘Whatever will be, will be’, is their prevailing thought, abstaining from taking a side for fear of being tainted by the red dust of the mortal world. Mistaken though his beliefs may be, at least Brother Vyakhya had the wherewithal to act on his convictions, while the others simply hide their heads in the sand and hope to weather the storm unscathed. Such arrogance, such sin, Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Hanging his head in shame, the Abbot closes his eyes and sighs a third time, his heart heavy and tears flowing, grieving his failures and welcoming the inevitable end, because he sees no other way to escape the pain.

I came here in search of help, but it seems the Abbot needs help even more than I do. Though I have no idea what to do, I do know that sometimes, people don’t need others to solve their problems for them, they just need someone to listen to them vent. I’ve done it often enough to know how it feels to have my problems trivialized by people who don’t understand. “Why are you depressed?” they’d ask, before the inevitable, “Just go out, relax, and have some fun, that’ll cheer you up.” As if I haven’t tried just being happy. Thanks for the advice, cured my depression right there. I’ll just be happy instead of being sad. Genius.

Knowing he has plenty more to get off his chest, I reach out to take his hand and wait until his eyes meet mine. “I am here to listen, if you care to talk.”

Despite the sorrow in his eyes, the Abbot manages to squeeze out a small smile, albeit a brief one that disappears soon after. “You have much wisdom for one so young,” he says, puffing up with the tiniest bit of pride. “Perhaps not all of this monk’s decisions were misguided, for though it divided the Brotherhood more than anything that came before, your words and actions have proven that you deserve your place as Wisdom of the Brotherhood.”

Arguable, but I don’t think now is the time to bring this up. Maybe later, when the Abbot is no longer suicidal and back to full health, but for now, we need to take the spotlight away from me and focus on him for a bit.

A shame he can’t be like me and just get a dog. That would for sure fix all that ails him, the love and companionship of a sweet pupper.

Chapter Meme