It’s been almost eight years since I came to this world, and I like to think I’ve accomplished quite a bit in my time here.
Those who know my history would probably agree. I mean, I started off as a frail, helpless slave, and in less than a decade, rose up to become the publicly acknowledged Number One Talent in the Empire. That’s not half bad, even if I never really deserved the title, and it’s not like my exploits are limited solely to the Martial Path. Putting aside my ability to identify plants and concoct various herbal remedies for a wide variety of ailments, I can also cook delicious meals, ride a quin, tan a hide, gut a fish, and dozens, if not hundreds, of other miscellaneous, everyday tasks which need doing in a pre-industrial society like this one. I can patch a roof, milk a goat, mend a fence, and still have a piping hot breakfast for five ready before eight in the morning, which I think is pretty awesome.
Hooray for basic life skills. Whooooo.
Don’t get me wrong, nothing in my aforementioned list of skills is particularly difficult to learn, not even combat or health care. I’m no battle genius or medical saint; most of my achievements in the former are due to dumb luck while my skills in the latter make me little more than a qualified battle-field medic rather than actual physician. I won’t be dazzling people with my consummate sword skills or diagnosing and curing peculiar and inexplicable ailments, but I can hold my own in a fight and whip up something to soothe a rash or settle a cough. I’m no authority figure, but I’d say I qualify as ‘competent’ in both fields, without ever having struggled too too much with learning either skill.
Granted, I put a lot of hours and effort into learning over the last eight years and probably stunted my growth with the lack of sleep, but in my defence, my insomnia wouldn't have let me sleep anyways so at least I put the time to good use. I’m not saying all this to toot my own horn. I learn things quickly, or at least quicker than most, it’s just how I am. Does this make me intelligent? Hell no. I know a lot of things because of hard work and my past life’s memories, but for all my talk of science and reasoning, I can sometimes be dumber than a bag of bricks. All I really have going for me is a good memory, a sturdy foundation of higher knowledge, and a keen mind that’s quick to pick things up.
Why is this relevant? Because even after all these years, Common Script, the written language I see and use every single day, still sometimes seems like a bunch of indecipherable moon runes to me.
There’s a good reason for this, and it’s not just because I’m stupid. It’s because the written Common is stupid, and I hate it. Unlike English, where each individual letter represents a sound or an array of sounds, each Common character represents a word, phrase, or concept, which means there are as many characters as there are words. Forget twenty-six letters, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone told me there are twenty-six thousand unique characters used in Common Script, which is a pain in the ass to memorize even with the perfect recall granted by a Natal Palace.
Not that mine works anymore. Stupid broken Core.
Now, this isn’t to say I can’t read Common, because I totally can, even without perfect recall since I learned long before I even heard of a Natal Palace. Only two or three thousand characters are used on a regular basis, while unfamiliar characters can usually be identified using contextual clues, and sometimes can even be guessed at because they’re made up of more common characters. For example, wood is written (木), so when you see three ‘wood’ characters stacked in a pyramid like (森), it’s safe to say this particular character has something to do with a lot of wood. It’s still not all that cut and dry, since (森) means ‘forest’ and not ‘wood-pile’ like I first guessed. To make matters more confusing, the written character has no bearing on pronunciation; wood (木) is pronounced ‘Mu’, while forest (森) is pronounced ‘Sen’, so I feel I am right to say Common is stupid and everyone should learn English instead.
“So...” I drawl, inwardly floundering in ignorance, “Cultivation is written Xiu Zhen (修真), which means ‘nurture truth’.” Nodding mindlessly just to burn off a little nervous energy, I follow up my inner rant and outward concise summary of Akanai’s explanation with, “...I still don’t get it.”
I’m not stupid. Fucking moon runes are stupid.
Judging by the chorus of sighs induced by my admission of ignorance, I’m probably the only person in the room who thinks so. Considering they’re all older and therefore wiser than I am, it probably means they’re right and I’m wrong, but what sort of person would I be if I let facts and information sway my opinions?
Wishing I’d lied to Song and kept Blackjack hidden in my pouch, I suffer in the absence of a comforting floof and squirm beneath the collective gazes of every person in the room. Peak Experts one and all, these gathered individuals stand at the pinnacle of the human race, whether it be Hero of the North Nian Zu and his right-hand man Han BoHai, or Great Teacher Du Min Gyu and thirty-seven year old Eastern genius Kuang Biao. As for Monk Happy, he isn’t exactly a world renowned warrior, but he is an educated and scholarly ascetic whose in-depth explanations and general philosophies have been widely accepted by the others. Sadly, even his cheery smile has melted away in the presence of my overwhelming ignorance, seated off to one side and mopping his shiny bald head with a handkerchief while he struggles to come up with an explanation I might actually understand. Mom, Ghurda, and Yaruq are also here, and for some strange reason Gerel too, but there are a few people who are conspicuously absent, like Taduk who ran off to tend to his garden or Dastan, BoShui, and Jorani whose respective Paths share many similarities with my own. My Teacher has always been notoriously indifferent towards the Martial Path, but I would’ve liked to have a few friends around to bounce ideas off of and maybe take some of the pressure off me and my utter stupidity.
Then there’s my Mentor and Grand-Mentor themselves, Dad and Akanai, two people who stand shoulder to shoulder with these famous or respected names and are also jointly responsible for my meteoric rise to glory. More dour than usual, they’ve lost much face today in front of their peers, for my ignorance reflects poorly on their teachings, but I’m not exactly going to lose sleep over it. I don’t know things because they never properly explained them to me, though a small part of my mind notes that I’ve also never really asked about the nature of cultivation or any other esoteric, mystical, or even downright religious aspects of the Martial Path.
Because really, who cares? It hardly matters in the grand scheme of things if I know that cultivation means to ‘nurture truth’. Seriously, what changes? How does one even nurture truth? It doesn’t make sense. Besides, I don’t cultivate, I train to fight. A rose by any other name and whatnot. Also, does it really matter that humanity views the Martial Path as the only viable Path to Divinity because the Mother handed down the Eight Forms? It’s not like we’d stop fighting and only settle our differences through musical competition if She had passed down the Eight Symphonies instead. Hell, things would probably be easier if She had. I could be the Azure Empire’s first and only conductor, taking the world by storm with the overwhelming power of a concert orchestra, one complete with strings, brass, reeds, and percussion. Or, better yet, I could channel my past life’s memories and become a freestyle rapper, one able to convert Defiled jazz aficionados and drive back the disgusting Enemy with my sick beats and dope lyrics.
...Now that I think about it, that would be pretty fun. Get on it, Mum on High. Turn my life into a high school musical please.
Clearing my throat in a misguided need to fill the empty silence, I immediately regret my actions as I once again become the sole focus of attention, but it’s too late to turn back now. “This morning,” I begin, doing everything in my power to sound patient, respectful, and not the least bit snarky or frustrated, “When Dad told me he set up a meeting with the greatest Martial Warriors in the Citadel to help clear things up regarding my Martial Path, I figured I’d have the chance to ask a question or two, not sit through an interrogation regarding every decision I’ve ever made, followed by a lecture answering questions I would’ve never thought to ask.” Questions which have zero bearing on my current situation, I might add, but with a herculean effort of will, I don’t. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your time and efforts, but how is etymology or philosophy supposed to help me figure out why my conscious mind can’t use Chi when my unconscious mind can?”
Despite my efforts to be as respectful and considerate as possible, the gathered geriatrics react poorly to my polite observation. Mom, Dad, and Akanai all purse their lips in disapproval while Han BoHai and Du Min Gyu erupt with similar snorts of derision. Even Monk Happy and Nian Zu frown at my words, but no one cares to explain why they’ve chosen to instruct me in such a roundabout manner. After yet another round of silent Sendings, Gerel opens his mouth for the first time this entire discussion and says, “The mere fact that you are so dismissive of the vital information presented here today is indicative how inadequate your comprehension truly is.” Continuing before I respond with a snarky rejoinder I’ll no doubt regret, Gerel asks, “What is the Martial Path to you? Come, answer without thinking, as you so often do.”
Smart-ass. “The Martial Path is the process through which I gain Martial Strength and an understanding of how to utilize Chi.”
“And this impersonal, utilitarian view towards the Divine is why we feel the need to educate you in matters of etymology and philosophy.” Without giving me time to retort, Gerel explains, “You take the words ‘Martial Path’ at face value. Written Wu Dao (武道), the Wu is self explanatory, for Martial references the combative and warlike nature of the subject, but Dao (道) is the more important of the two and not so easily explained.”
“Yea, I know.” Doing my best not to roll my eyes, I set out to prove Gerel wrong, even though I hate these stupid word lessons. “Dao (道) can literally mean a route taken or direction in which something moves, but it can also mean doctrine or principle. In general, when Martial Warriors reference the Martial Path (Wu Dao), they mean the latter and are using Dao as a catch all phrase for the underlying essence which makes up reality as we know it, the rules by which the world, both physical and metaphysical, abide by.”
“Yes, but it is more than just rules and laws to abide by, more than a track to power and strength.” Evidently having trouble expressing himself, Gerel pauses to consider his words before continuing. “The Dao is everything, and Wu Dao is merely the means through which we explore it. The Martial Path is also a calling, one bestowed upon us by the Mother Above. We are Her Chosen, Her conscripts, Her appointed defenders of humanity. With Her blessing, we wield the Energy of the Heavens, the power of Divinity itself, against the Father and His minions most foul. These are our trials and tribulations, given to us so that some day, one amongst us might rise above mortality and soar into the Heavens to join hands with the Mother Above, where together, they will topple the Father once and for all.”
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It almost sounds like Gerel wants to join the Brotherhood. No wonder he’s bald. In a rare show of tact, I refrain from calling religion stupid and simply reply with, “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe the Energy of the Heavens is simply a natural force at work, like how sunlight fuels plant growth or gravity keeps our feet on the ground. We have yet to understand it, but that doesn’t mean it’s utterly incomprehensible.”
“And therein lies the problem.” His amber eyes filled with pity and sympathy, Gerel shakes his head and sighs. “You lack faith.”
This is why I hate arguing with religion. “Would you say you find my lack of faith disturbing?” Chuckling at my joke since no one else will, I hold my hands up to forestall an argument and say, “Look, I’ve had this discussion with Grand-Mentor already, and it went nowhere. I understand faith is the linchpin upon which your Martial Path is built, and that without faith, you would lose everything, but that’s never been the case with me. Believe me, faith has never entered the equation, not since day one. That’s definitely not the issue here, so why don’t we skip over the theological debate and just agree to disagree?”
“This one is curious,” Monk Happy begins, studying me with wide-eyed fascination, “How do you rationalize what you’ve experienced without faith? When you find Balance, do you not feel Her warm embrace? While meditating, have you not heard Her gentle whispers offering you Insight? With this and more, how can you still deny the existence of the Divine?”
“Why is the sun warm and ice cold? What makes wind blow or water flow downhill? I can’t explain those either, but that won’t stop me from using sails to drive a ship or a waterwheel to power a sawmill. Chi and Heavenly Energy are the same. I don’t know how they work, I just know it works.” Granted, the not knowing bothers me more than anything, but I’m sure there’s a plausible, scientific reason behind Honing, Healing, and whatnot. It’s not like Martial Warriors can break the laws of physics or anything, they just sorta... bend them a bit using forces I don’t wholly understand. “Who knows what the future has in store? Maybe someday, humanity will harness the power of sunlight to do things we can’t even imagine are possible.”
In fact, I know they will, though I kinda wish I also knew how.
Still refusing to let the matter drop, Gerel presses on with his futile attempts to make me a believer. “The Mother has given you so much, yet still you spurn Her.” Switching to Sending, he asks, “Is it because you blame Her for your suffering? Your trials and tribulations have been harsh, but She never gives us more than we can handle. Did She not guide you out of those mines and to safety in the arms of the People? Did She not Bless you with the Awakening of Water and gift you a Heavenly Tear to cleanse away your grudges? Let go of your anger lest it consume you again, for it is the anger of a petulant child throwing a tantrum because his medicine was too bitter.”
...It annoys me that Gerel of all people understands me so well.
Choking back my angry retort, I allow myself a heated stare instead, my eyes narrowed and voice cold. “I have sweat and bled to get where I am today, endured and suffered more than I care to remember. Perhaps the Mother has guided me here, but if so, then that is by Her choice, not mine. In Her power and wisdom, I am sure She is willing to overlook my lack of piety, but if not, that is a matter to be dealt with in the afterlife. As I said before, from start to finish, faith has never been a part of my Martial Path, so this avenue of discussion is meaningless.” And annoying. And aggravating.
Long seconds pass in awkward silence before it’s broken by Du Min Gyu, his eyes all but disappearing into his wrinkles as he cackles in laughter. Pointing at Dad, the old man grins and says, “You were worried our careless remarks might lead him astray and affect his Path, but I fear his words are more likely to influence ours. A stubborn and wilful child, but perhaps that is what he needs to walk his unique Path.” As his laughter dies down, he strokes his beard and gives me a knowing look before continuing. “You’ve overlooked a minor detail though, boy. It is wrong to say faith has no part in your Martial Path, because in your own words, you don’t know how Chi works, only that it does. Is this not a sort of faith?”
“...No, it isn’t. Faith is accepting something at face value. Chi working is a fact. I can’t explain why things fall, but I know that if I jump off a cliff, I’ll plummet to my death.”
“Is that so?” Smiling at having caught me in his trap, Du Min Gyu steeples his fingers and says, “Then please, demonstrate the facts for us. Use Chi, here and now. Take someone’s hand and Send them a message, or slice your palm open and Heal the injury. You’ve done these things before, and you are capable of much more as evidenced by your recent performance in Sinuji, so what is keeping you from doing it again?”
“You’re twisting the facts to suit your narrative. I did those things before my Core shattered, and afterwards I only ever used Chi while in an unconscious state of Balance.”
“Or perhaps the facts are not what you presume they are.” Gesturing towards Ghurda and Nian Zu, Du Min Gyu explains, “We spoke with young Dastan yesterday, and he mentioned the discussion you all had on the outer wall, before the incident with your supposed ‘unconscious state of Balance’ which I notice you so conveniently ignored.” Because I can’t explain it. “What were the boy’s words again?”
“Chi is bound through emotion,” Ghurda supplies, “And utilized through intent.”
“Yes, thank you.” Opening his mouth to continue, he pauses and fixes me with a patient look. “First, I should ask if you have any issues with young Dastan’s statement.” I shake my head. “Good. Then, I must point out that it is a gross oversimplification of a complex matter, but accurate enough for our current purposes. Now, I ask you: what is Intent?”
Though Common lacks capital letters, the emphasis is clear. More word games, but this time, there lacks a clear distinction between Common and English, with no weird translation issues I can spot. “Intent is just that, intent. Resolve or determination to do something, I guess.”
“Good. Now I will offer yet another overly simplistic statement, but again good enough for our current purposes.” Making a chopping motion with his hand, Du Min Gyu says, “I intend to cut, I visualize my Intent, and then my weapon is Honed. Would you say this is an accurate portrayal of the Honing process?”
“...I suppose.”
“You hesitate to agree.” A statement more than a question, and one made as if he expected it all along. “Why?”
“...Because there’s more to it than just visualization and intent.”
“Indeed there is,” he says, nodding sagely. “So explain. What more is there?”
Except I can’t explain, because I lack the words. First off, Using Chi is more of a feeling, an experience, a perception that touches upon senses I can’t really quantify. I might as well try to explain music to the deaf or colours to the blind. I mean, it might be possible to do those things, but not without extensive knowledge on the subject which goes beyond ‘it sounds nice’ or ‘ROYGBIV’. Even then, the end result won’t measure up to hearing a song or seeing a rainbow. Some things need to be experienced firsthand, and using Chi is one of them.
Only... Du Min Gyu already knows all this, so I doubt he actually expects an explanation, which means he’s just bringing it to my attention. “I could talk about how you feel the flow of Chi,” I begin, mostly thinking out loud, “Or I could make mention of the different ways one can go about Honing, but neither of those things comes close to a proper explanation. It just... happens, like picking up a cup of tea and bringing it to my lips, all done without planning or thought. Chi flows out into my weapon and the edge is Honed, but there’s more to it that I cannot explain.”
“And in that ineffable experience,” Du Min Gyu says, his voice quiet and reverent, “I see the Divine hand of the Mother at work, shaping my Intent into reality.” Seeing my frown, he smiles and continues, “The future might prove me wrong, but who can say for certain? Until such a time, however, I must agree with young Gerel here, and ask that you at least take his assessment into account.”
It takes a long time to parse through his needlessly enigmatic conclusion, but even though I get there eventually, I’m still not entirely certain I have it right. “You really think I can’t use Chi... because I lack faith?”
“What is Intent without conviction?” Du Min Gyu counters. “And what is conviction if not faith? You say you’ve never had faith in the Mother above, but you must have had faith in something, even if it was merely faith in your sword or yourself.”
Now that I think about it, like really think about it, there might be something to all this. I mean, every living person in the Azure Empire can regrow their adult teeth because they don’t know any better, but somehow, I feel like comparing devout faith to widespread ignorance will put everyone’s loincloth in a twist.
“Yes, of course! This explains everything with Brother –” Almost forgetting himself in his excitement, Monk Happy just barely stops himself from revealing my shameful history of mental illness to everyone in the room before switching to Sending. “With Brother and Baledagh,” he Sends, his eyes lighting up in excitement even as I breathe a sigh of relief. “You said Baledagh was the one who believed, and he had no issue accepting Insights and such, whereas Brother, the skeptic, relied solely on mundane practice to progress along the Martial Path. Perhaps this itself was an Insight from the Heavens, a way to circumvent your distrust and disbelief and bestow Heavenly guidance upon you.”
Why does everything sound so fucking crazy, but also doesn’t? I mean, it makes a twisted sort of sense, but I can’t tell if I’ve got a screw loose or it’s the rest of the world that’s insane. No, it doesn’t make sense. “If faith is the issue,” I ask, directing the question at Dad and Akanai, “Then how come you guys can’t Hone your Auras?” Ignoring the hubbub from those who didn’t know about it, I speak over them and continue, “I’ve shown you it’s possible, so shouldn’t you guys be able to replicate it? It wasn’t an Awakening or Insight, it was just...” Just Blobby showing me it could be done. Sorta. Unless Blobby was another manifestation of my twisted psyche. No we’ve been over this, GangShu was chasing Blobby, which means that stupid droplet totally exists. Then again, I might’ve anthropomorphized the droplet and given it a personality when it in fact never had one, because that totally sounds like something I’d do. Fuck, this is complicated.
“Knowing something is possible does not mean it can be done,” Dad says, patting my head to console me. “In Sinuji, you watched Nian Zu unleash the Shooting Star, but can you replicate it? Many have tried, including myself, but until now, none have succeeded.”
“...That makes sense.” Wish it didn’t. I need to poke holes in this faith theory, because... well because if the Mother exists, I should totally bitch slap Her right across the Divine face for what She put me through. The Father too, He deserves a boot to the ass and many stomps to the back of His neck just for being a real bastard.
No, hang on. It doesn’t have to be faith in the Mother and Father, Du Min Gyu even said as much. Confidence, that’s the problem. I just need to believe. I think, therefore I am awesome. Maybe. Or not. I don’t fucking know. Gah.
Stop. Go over what you know. “Let’s take a step back for a second. I use emotion to bind Heavenly Energy, which turns it into Chi. Having been changed by my emotions, Chi is now able to understand my intent, which I convey through visualization. Then, all I need to do is have faith that it will work, and it will. Does that sound right to anyone?”
“It does not matter if it sounds right to us,” Dad replies, squeezing my shoulder for support. “Only if it sounds right to you.”
“You know,” I say, rubbing my temples to take the edge off my newfangled headache. “I’m starting to understand why we don’t talk about the Martial Path. None of this shit makes any sense.”
“Or it makes perfect sense,” Akanai retorts, “And we merely lack the capacity to truly understand.”
Right. Like the blind man and colours. “So where am I supposed to go from here?”
“Wherever your Path leads you,” Monk Happy replies, pressing his palms together and following it up with, “Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.”
How utterly unhelpful, but then again, that seems to be the theme for today’s meeting.
“Right now, I think my Path wants me to find the closest toilet,” I quip, smiling at the room of stony faces. No one appreciates my jokes. “Afterwards, I suppose it’d be a good time for lunch, so... would anyone care to join us? My treat.”
All in all, I think I’ve had enough discussion regarding the Martial Path to last me an entire lifetime. Is it weird that I find reading a psychopathic torturer’s research notes more palatable than talking to some of the greatest Martial minds in the Azure Empire? Definitely weird. I should probably stop, but know thyself and know thy enemy and what not, and since my Martial Path is just a giant mess, I might as well focus on something I can sort of understand.
...Then again, I could just say fuck it and drink the Brotherhood’s kool aid. I mean, finding religion worked for BoShui and it kinda worked for Jorani too, so where’s the harm in trying? Worst comes to worst, I could always ask Taduk to grow my dick back. That’ll be a fun conversation. ‘Hello, future father-in-law? Could you regenerate my penis, which I will later use to violate your sweet daughter and my three other wives?’
Just another day in the totally normal life of Falling Rain. Fun, fun, fun, fun, funnn...
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