If a coward dies a thousand times before his death, and I, the Undying Savage, am a coward, that’s definitely irony, right?
Some day, I’ll sit down and figure out how irony works, but regardless of whether I’m using the term correctly, it’s most certainly some sort of peculiar. In my defence, death is far from my greatest fear, because I know there is life after death. All but completely certain in fact, seeing as I’ve experienced it firsthand, so while I’m not yet ready to give up just yet, I know even if I died today, I would have lived a good life. Though I’ve been in this world for less than a decade and have experienced more than my fair share of hardships, I’ve also been blessed with more than most can even dream of in matters of love, wealth, health, and floofs.
So what do I fear most? Living a life without hope, which means I understand the Abbot’s plight more than he knows. How would I fare if I lost everyone I loved and cared for? Terribly, that’s for sure, so I can’t really blame the Abbot for wallowing in misery. His Mentor and Senior Brother are dead, his best friend a traitor, and the faction he presides over doesn’t see eye to eye with the direction he wants to take. At some point, he just sat down and wondered if it was even worth all the hardship any more, and now, he can’t find the strength to pick himself back up again.
So I guess the question is, how am I supposed to Heal a broken heart? What medicine is there to mend a wounded spirit? The Abbot claimed he’s dying because he believes he has nothing left to live for, but how is that even possible? Death by depression, now there’s something I never thought I’d have to worry about, because if this is a real ailment, then I’m most certainly at risk. I know better than most how it’s not just a matter of will, how some days you just wake up and can’t find a reason to get up, and I get the feeling that Will with a capital W is really important when Healing injuries of the soul. Suicide is a whole different kettle of fish though, as I feel fairly confident I would never kill myself, mostly because I enjoy breathing far too much, but if I can literally die of sadness, then I need to make some big changes in my mentality before I catch a fatal case of the blues.
Unable to come up with a plan of attack, I sit and study the big panda sprawled out across the Abbot’s chest, seeking comfort from his favourite person while simultaneously trying to protect him. The big chonker is a loyal beast, as is Kukku, both sticking close to the Abbot’s side during all the chaos and mayhem without ever breaking Concealment. Even Rakshasa seems concerned by the Abbot’s lack of response, doing that thing all cats do where he pretends not to want any attention while patiently waiting for the Abbot to come give him a pat on the head. It’s nice to know the tiger is at least somewhat socialized, as opposed to a feral, murderous creature, and if the Abbot does pass away, I promise I’ll take good care of all his cute floofs. I’ll feed them and brush them and love them so very much, and make sure they’re all happy and healthy with safe, enriching lives.
...How about we stop thinking about how much fun you’ll have with the Abbot’s pets if he dies, and start coming up with a solution instead?
Suppressing a sigh, I stroke the panda’s head and hold Lin-Lin close while fighting the urge to close my eyes and sleep. Refining my Spiritual Heart and the subsequent fight really took a toll on me, but rest will have to wait, because right now, I need to help the Abbot. Lin-Lin says I should just do what I did to fix me, but what did I actually do? I trusted my gut and found Balance, not by divesting myself of emotions or seeking calm and inner peace, but by asserting my authority over the Heavens. No longer would I bow to the whims of fate, but instead, I decided to make my own way in the world. Rather than appease Heavenly Energy and hope it would work as intended, I did what I did in order to harness Heavenly Energy in a way that makes use of its natural properties. The Dao of Humanity, as it were, using our brains and opposable thumbs to harness the power of Heaven and use it in ways that aren’t entirely natural.
Honestly, the more that I think about it, the more I believe Balance is not a Path suited for humankind. We are largely creatures of emotion, prone to indulging our pride, lust, and vanity as much as any other so-called positive emotion, so it isn’t easy to achieve perfect control over our emotions. Even if we could, is that really how we should progress? I would argue that our emotional flaws are what define us as humans as much as anything else, because while it is tragic when one succumbs to their baser instincts, our ability to rise above them is what separates humans from other living creatures in the world. I would never expect Aurie to take up a life of celibacy, or Roc to turn a new leaf and stop stealing all things shiny, but humans are uniquely suited to embracing new moralistic principles and strive to improve ourselves in a virtuous manner.
And in this, I believe I have found humanity’s Path to True Divinity, not through regulating, rejecting, or correcting our mortal failings and emotions, but by embracing them instead. I don’t mean we should all give in to base instinct like the Defiled have, but nor should we seek to elevate ourselves to a point where those instincts no longer have any hold over us. A good man is good not because he is devoid of all evil, but because he does good in spite of it, and this more than anything is what convinces me I am on the right track. While Balance is not the same as morality, at the highest levels, perfect Balance would either have us do away with all emotion, or experience them in a manner that is less than personal, which I believe would in turn make us less than human.
Life is suffering indeed. Without these moralistic trials and tribulations, we would be no different from any other animal, slaves to our instincts and beholden to our whims. So what am I getting at here? Well, I guess I’m saying that while Balance works, I think there’s a better way to utilize Heavenly Energy, one that is not bound to our emotional state. We only need Balance to draw in Heavenly Energy because doing so requires an expenditure of emotion to use as bait, but since we ourselves are creatures of emotions, and we store said emotions in our soul, we should be able to skip a few steps and expend our souls to directly harness the Energy of the Heavens. Right?
While I might be getting a little sidetracked, all this brings us back to the Abbot, who might well prove my point. Though he is considered a lofty so-called Divinity, he is literally killing himself with sadness. While he is vastly more powerful than the average person and an iron-willed ascetic who follows the Noble Eight-Fold Path, he is still susceptible to his emotions in a very human way. All things said and done, this means the Abbot’s issue stems from the soul, and while he waved aside my suggestion to do things he enjoyed to mend his soul, he also noted I was on the right track. If the Abbot can’t find the will to live from within, then why can’t I pass on some good vibes to him, and in doing so, harness Heavenly Energy to fix what ails him?
Yes, I’m on the right track here. I can feel it in my gut.
Removing my hand from the panda’s head, I harden my resolve and ignore the bandit bear’s plaintive gaze, because I can’t just keep petting him forever. In fact, I do my best to shoo him away, because I don’t know what’ll happen if I try to Heal the Abbot with someone else in the way, so it’s best to limit the variables around me. Unwilling to move no matter how I beg, plead, or push, Lin-Lin comes to my rescue and lures the panda away with a steamed bun she had hidden away in her pouch, only to throw herself into his furry embrace while he chomps down on the snack. Ping Ping scurries over to join my wifey on the panda’s belly with a chorus of happy squeaks, a sight which warms my heart and gives me a much needed boost of energy, my soul and spirit reinvigorated by their unmitigated delight. This is just the sort of positive energy the Abbot sorely needs, and I lock it in mind and close my eyes before turning back to his emaciated frame.
Taking his wizened hand in mine, I steady my breathing and focus inwards on my emotions, gathering all the cheer and happiness I can spare. Once upon a time, I had a colour wheel to differentiate all the various emotions, one I set up after my unfortunate first encounter with Sir Inks-a-lot. I’ve yet to find time to remake any of my Keystones, much less one I’ve so little use for like the colour wheel, but thankfully I didn’t need them as Insight was enough to carry me through my battle against Goujian. For now though, without a Keystone to guide me, all I can do is pick out the emotions from my memories with the Abbot, recollecting all the fond moments we shared while debating theology, morality, and so much more for the simple sake of arguing. I enjoy butting heads with him, because his mindset is so different from mine, which allows for an interesting dialogue between us without getting angry or heated. I think he enjoyed arguing with me for similar reasons to why Taduk keeps his status a secret. Everyone respects or fears the Abbot too much to actually argue with him, and I would bet my considerable fortune that no one calls him by name anymore.
Which is a shame. I get why the Brotherhood keep their names secret, so that they aren’t tempted to take pride in their actions or accomplishments and do good things for the wrong reasons. That being said, there’s a certain magic to names, because when you hear someone you love say your name, it is a uniquely beautiful experience which cannot be understated. It’s not just names either, because I get the same feeling when Mom and Dad call me ‘son’, when Taduk calls me ‘Rain my boy’, and when Alsantset calls me ‘little brother’. There’s also ‘lad’ from Husolt, ‘Hubby’ from Lin-Lin, ‘Idiot’ from Mila, and ‘Beloved’ from Yan, and so much more.
Even ‘Lord Husband’ has a pleasant ring to it now, especially with how Luo-Luo sometimes looks at me when she says it...
To this end, I open myself to the Energy of the Heavens and Will my emotions over to the Abbot through Aura and Domain, making sure to call out to him by name. “Abbot Akupara,” I whisper, adding a Sending to go along with it, the envisioned sound wave sinking into him without resistance alongside my Intent. “You who were named for ‘potential without limit’, your time is not yet over. Be Healed.”
Saying it just felt right, as now my words, actions, and thoughts are all working towards the same goal, my unified Will made manifest. The Energy of the Heavens surges around me, but once my Core is filled, I seal it off from the world and leave the Heavenly Energy nowhere to go but where I direct it, or rather where my emotions draw it through Aura, right into Akupara’s ailing body vis a vis my fond memories of our time together.
Only for the so called powers of Creation and Destruction to find no purchase and escape from my bonds without doing a damned thing.
...
Well fuck me. What am I supposed to do when the medicine refuses to work?
“A good effort, Rain my boy.” Patting my head with warm affection, Taduk glances over the Abbot’s body with a discerning eye before puffing one cheek, which is what he does when he wants to be critical but isn’t sure how to frame it. After a short pause, he finally finds the words and says, “But... well, you’ve overlooked a simple, basic premise, that of the inviolability of Chi.”
Right. As Grandpa Du put it, Chi is bound to the individual and inviolable until it returns to Heavenly Energy. “...But I’m not using Chi.” Giving my logic an internal once-over, I explain, “I was utilizing the Energy of the Heavens.”
“If you were, then it would have worked.” Shrugging in that half-hearted manner which conveys his disagreement without intent to argue, Taduk takes a seat beside me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Why don’t you tell us what you tried, and perhaps we can shed some light on the subject.”
Monk Bones and the other guardian monks have also made their way over to the Abbot’s side, each of them giving Rakshasa a wide berth. Only now do I realize they still haven’t noticed Pong Pong’s presence, and think I’ve somehow tamed the ferocious beast by uttering some nonsense syllables, which is kinda funny when you think about it. Happy to let the misconception remain, I gesture for Rakshasa to come closer, but the diffident tiger ignores me until Pong Pong rears his head and directs his mount over. Reluctant to obey but too afraid to rebel, Rakshasa grumbles as he begrudgingly pads over to lie down by Lin-Lin’s feet, just out of my reach but close enough for my sweet wifey to pat. It seems he likes her more than me, and I can’t really blame him. Taking a moment for myself, I sink into Taduk’s embrace and heave a small sigh of relief, just glad to have him here with me. He risked his life to save mine, revealed his greatest secret to the Enemy just to support me, and his life might never be the same from here on out. Even as a Medical Saint, people often walked on eggshells around him, so I can’t imagine he can continue living his carefree life if word were to get out about him. In fact, seeing how Hua Lie, Guan Suo, GangShu, and every other Divinity I’ve met tends to spend all their time in Concealment, I bet half the reason Taduk kept his secret was so he could walk around without anyone trying to kill him.
A freedom he gave up to save me.
“Enough with the mushy Aura now,” he says, pressing his cheek against my temple with a chuckle. “You’ll make your teacher cry if you keep this up.”
“Sorry teacher.” Cheeks colouring with embarrassment, I rescind my Aura and explain, “I actually didn’t mean to do that. Condense an Aura, I mean. It just slipped out. Don’t know why.”
Giggling as she plays with Rakshasa’s flicking ears, Lin-Lin’s beautiful smile is a sight to behold. “I thought so, hubby. You’ve been leaking Aura since getting your head on straight. It’s scary when you’re angry, but really nice the rest of the time, ya?”
I noticed, but I have no idea why it’s happening, though I suppose it has something to do with my Spiritual Heart. Putting yet another question aside for later, I pull my wifey closer and lean heavily on my teacher, basking in the warmth of their love and affection as I explain what I know of the Abbot’s plight and how I just tried to Heal him. No one interrupts until I’m finished, at which point I shrug and say, “So yea. No idea why it didn’t work.”
“As your teacher said, your error lies in your failure to account for the inviolability of Chi.” Monk Bones offers his two cents without asking, but there is no heat or criticism in the frail monk’s voice, only calm facts and nothing more. “Not entirely your fault, as your lacking foundation is a result of your meteoric rise, moving so quickly you skipped over many fundamental steps others must tread one at a time.” A criticism and compliment all wrapped in one, Monk Bones is a straightforward man who tells it like it is, which I should’ve expected from a man who more than once suggested Jorani chop off his penis just to ‘experience what it is like’. Clarifying, is how the old monk described it, but I’ll have to take his word for it, because there is no way I will ever allow anyone to take cold steel to my warm nuts.
There’s no castration on Monk Bone’s mind as he continues without pause. “While the Abbot claims Chi and Heavenly Energy are one and the same, and is technically correct, this is only applicable to someone who has achieved a certain level of mastery over the Dao. Put simply, there are countless ways to wrap a dumpling, but an amateur should start with the simplest method before moving on to more advanced pursuits. Thus, for the sake of the majority, we must behave as if there is a marked difference between Chi and Heavenly Energy, for one must crawl before they walk, and walk before they run.”
“Makes sense.” I always thought the same way, because despite the Abbot’s aversion to extraneous labels, categorization and delineation would make the Dao much easier to understand. I mean, even the Martial Path can be broken down into various subsections, as a swordsman doesn’t learn the same things as a spearman or axeman, the same way a field officer needs to know more than your average front-line grunt.
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
“So, do you understand why your attempt ended in failure?”
A standard Brotherhood tactic, asking questions they already know the answer to just to make me think harder. I hate it. “Um... maybe? Chi is simply Heavenly Energy bound by emotion, so even though I didn’t directly bind Heavenly Energy, I was still using emotion to direct it. Thus, the Abbot rejected my emotions and in doing so, left the unbound Heavenly Energy nowhere to go and nothing to do.”
“Close, but not entirely correct.” Rubbing his bald head out of habit, Monk Bones explains, “You said Chi is simply Heavenly Energy bound by emotion, but while this is true, there is more to the matter than just emotion. How are you transmitting said emotion?”
“...Through Aura, but not... not exactly Aura. It’s similar, but different.” Like how antennas pick up signals from radio waves, but convert them into different outputs on tv and radios, though I’m lacking a more mundane explanation.
“And what is Aura?”
“Aura is taking your innermost emotions and combining it with Chi to project a field of pressure onto your enemies and block the opposing pressure for your allies.” Ah. “Chi. It’s a variation of Chi.”
“Indeed.” Pointing at the Abbot, Monk Bones anticipates my next question and explains, “While Heavenly Energy is turned into Chi upon entering the Core, this movement in not a requirement for the process to occur. You simply skipped a step to directly turn Heavenly Energy into Chi outside of your Core, which points to the possibility that the mere act of coveting emotion is enough to alter the Energy of the Heavens. Then the Abbot’s internal Domain rejected your Chi, and thus rejected your variation of Aura and the Heavenly Energy it guided. Basic Aura, the one you use to project courage, love, fear, anger, or any other pure emotion, only affects other individuals because rather than target the body, which is protected by one’s innate and internal Domain, it targets the mind instead, through an ability almost all living creatures possess: empathy. However, just as Rakshasa has developed a defence against such attacks, so too has the Abbot, for he hypothesized that in order to achieve true Divinity, one must first refine the body, mind, and soul, as opposed to merely the first.”
Mental Chi attacks, refining souls, and more. Great. That’s just what I need, more complicated subjects to wrap my brain around. Putting this tidbit aside for later, I turn to Taduk and ask, “Then how is it even possible to Heal using Chi?”
Scratching his cheek in apprehension, Taduk huffs a small sigh before answering. “I didn’t expect to have to teach you this so soon, so I’ve yet to put together a lesson plan. Remember what I told you before? How to Heal another person using Heavenly energy requires the pinnacle of mastery?”
“Yes teacher, I remember the lecture well.” Full of ham-fisted acting and forced segues, but enlightening nonetheless.
The scene plays out in my mind, as clear as if it’d only taken place yesterday. There I stood in front of my enthusiastic teacher, while young Lin-Lin hid her giggling behind her father’s robes. “Heavenly energy is all around us,” Taduk preached, gesturing wildly about. “It is invisible, intangible, inexhaustible. It comes in many natural forms, bursting up from Heavenly veins in the earth, or spewed from ever-burning Heavenly fires. It can be spread by Heavenly winds, or congealed into Heavenly waters. It enters our world, and fills it, a constant source of power from the Heavens!” After a brief tangent, he continued, “By drawing in Heavenly Energy and making it your own, you change it. You brand it with your own essence, and it becomes Internal Energy, or Chi. Once it is yours, you can use it in ways immeasurable. You can manipulate your Chi to attack and defend, strengthen your weapons, perform incredible feats of agility and strength. With practice you will learn to heal your own injuries, not only cuts and bruises, but even lost limbs and organs. You could even emulate the most majestic of all creatures, and run in the sky like a Cloud Chaser Hare.”
Aside from adding that using Elemental Chi was even harder than Healing another individual, there’s not much else of value there, but it was my first real introduction to Chi and Heavenly Energy, one I will cherish until I am old and grey. “You never mentioned why Healing someone else requires pinnacle mastery though.”
“Because you were not yet ready to hear it,” Taduk replies, chuckling under his breath. “If I’d said any more, you would’ve fixated on it to no end and arrived at some wildly inaccurate conclusion. I suppose you are ready now though, so listen carefully. In order to Heal someone else using Chi, there are two options. The first is the most common, in that you convince your subject’s body into accepting your Chi by identifying the problem for them and providing a solution. This works most of the time, as a drowning man will grasp at anything in order to survive, but the trick lies in convincing them quickly enough to save them.”
“How do you convince them though?”
“Through Emotion and Intent.” Shrugging, Taduk explains, “Show them you hold no ill-will and only mean to help, and even the stupidest animal will accept your ministrations.”
This sounds simple, but how many people can claim they are entirely free of ill-intent when working with strangers? “Oh! So that’s why some people from my retinue could Heal their mounts, but couldn’t Heal anyone else,” I exclaim. “Because the cattle trust them!” Frowning as the thought occurs to me, I ask, “Why didn’t they trust me then? I couldn’t Heal them at all.”
“A difference of Intent, most likely.” Having heard the story before, Taduk explains, “You attempted to take control of your subject’s body in order to better perceive their injuries before Healing it for them, but even if your intentions were good, not many living creatures would willing surrender so much control over to another person. As for the members of your retinue, they were able to convey their intentions more clearly and refrain from desiring absolute control, a sentiment the cattle likely recognized and accepted. Put more clearly, you tried to Heal their injuries for them, while your retinue guided the cattle to Heal their injuries on their own, with help from Chi supplied by the Healer, which is really the way to do it.”
“But what about that time you Healed me after that whole incident with the snake?” Struggling to recollect the memories of the traumatic experience, I talk through them as they come to mind. “You remember right? During our trip to the Society Headquarters? What you did then wasn’t guiding my Healing, but taking full control to direct it. In fact, I distinctly remember you wresting control away and watching as you Healed my injuries like knitting a tapestry while controlling a thousand needles at the same time.”
“You remember that?” Looking both proud and sheepish at the same time, Taduk taps my nose in gentle reproach. “You never mentioned it, not directly. I thought you were just asking how I Healed you in a more generic sense. If I’d known otherwise, I would have told you to forget all about it. No wonder you set your sights so high, Rain my boy. Tell me, what do the people of the Empire call your teacher?”
“The Medical Saint.”
“Exactly. And how, pray tell, do you think I earned the title?”
“...By being really, really, ridiculously good at Healing.”
“Indeed.” Grinning from ear to ear, he asks, “So why would you assume my method of Healing is easy to replicate?”
“Because I’m dumb and overconfident?”
“Bah. None of your self-deprecation now. You made a mistake, like we all do from time to time, so no need to be so hard on yourself.” Hugging me all the harder, Taduk explains, “What you witnessed then was the other, less common option when it comes to Healing others, which as you might guess is to seize control of your subject’s body in order to bypass their innate defences. It involves removing all personal emotion from your Chi and adjusting it to match your patient’s Chi, which is easier said than done. You were on the right track, but rather than exert your Will to seize control, you essentially were asking the cattle to surrender control over to you, a request that would be denied by most even with a sturdy foundation of trust already in place.”
All this sounds vaguely familiar in some way, as if I’ve heard it before, but regarding a different subject, and it takes me a few seconds to figure out where. “Holy sh – ” I begin, but then I remember Taduk’s aversion to swearing and utter, “Poop nuggets,” instead, much to Lin-Lin’s amusement. “I was trying to take control the same way the Spectres try to dominate their host, by demanding they surrender.”
“Essentially the same thing, but with fundamental differences,” Monk Bones interjects, before adding, “Ones that are too broad and wide-ranging to delve into here. Suffice it to say the Spectres efforts are largely devoted to convincing their hosts to surrender control with ill-intent, whereas Healing in the same manner can be used for nefarious purposes, but is difficult to accomplish without the running afoul of the body’s natural defences. Hence why most hosts are unwilling to surrender total control until standing at death’s door.”
Taking a moment to digest all of this, I finally wrap my head around it thanks to something I learned in a past life. “So when my attempts to Heal are rejected, it’s because the patient’s body is rejecting what it sees as a foreign substance. Rather than determining if the foreign substance is harmful or beneficial, it simply rejects everything because that offers the best defence, the same way the immune system combats illnesses. A metaphysical immune system, as it were, one that works in tandem with the physical one. So I need to... package my Chi in a way so that the body perceives it as harmless or even beneficial.” Widening my eyes as I recall something about organ transplants and immunosuppressant drugs, I add, “Or weaken the body’s natural defences enough to exert some degree of control.”
“...The first is correct, the second also correct, but exceedingly dangerous.” Frowning as he rubs his head, Monk Bones sighs and explains, “To put it in terms you would understand, weakening the ‘immune system’ would allow you to exert control, but it would also allow others to do the same.”
Meaning Spectres and Zhen Shi. Damn it. Still something worth considering though, but I keep that to myself and move on. “Got it. So we stick to the first option, Healing through lies and deceit.”
Though I’m not wrong, I can tell neither Taduk nor Monk Bones likes the way I framed it, but I can’t really see it any other way. I need to convince the Abbot’s body that my Chi is not foreign but rather a natural part of him. How do I do that? Honestly, it’d be easier just to convince the Abbot himself to give me access, assuming he can do so willingly. It’s not like I can tell my immune system to back off and stop fighting the flu, so maybe I’m looking at this all wrong and should stick to what Taduk and Monk Bones are suggesting, rather than try to do things my own, unique and special way.
The problem is, even though I know ‘what’ I’m supposed to do, I’m still lost on the ‘how’, which is generally where these lessons on Chi and Heavenly Energy fall apart. Maybe I’ll have an Insight and find a working solution that way, but I hate having to rely on Divine Intervention to do things. That’s my biggest problem, my inability to depend on Insight despite my undeniable affinity for it. I can do so much cool stuff when I turn my brain off and trust my gut, like Cloud-Step and shoot Chi bullets, but it is in my nature to question everything and pursue answers I am not smart enough to come up with, leaving me in a weird spot strength wise. All of this goes back to a fundamental lack of knowledge regarding Chi, Heavenly Energy, and the means through which we use it, but now is not the time to devote myself to pioneering a brand-new science devoted to the study of Heavenly Energy.
What would I even call it? Practical Theology? Metaphysical Applications? Daoeology?
“No need to fret, Junior Brother.” Offering me a warm, consoling smile, Monk Bones’ eyes glow with thanks and gratitude. “No one expects you to find success where so many other more learned and experienced individuals have already failed.” Shaking his head with a sigh, Monk Bones presses his palms together in prayer and bows towards the comatose Abbot. “The Abbot’s fate lies with the Heavens now, for his injuries are beyond even the Brotherhood’s understanding. This is an infection of the soul itself, a festering, malignant wound that whittles away at his will to live, and in doing so drains his life’s essence until there is nothing left. Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.”
“Come, Rain my boy,” Taduk says, springing to his feet with remarkable ease, so light it’s as if he floated up and extended his feet below him. “Let’s head back to the monastery. You need food and rest, while others might require our assistance.”
Right. In all the chaos and exhaustion, I almost forgot the monastery came under attack too, which means Taduk’s skills might be sorely needed. As I push myself to my weary feet with far less grace than Taduk or Lin-Lin, I take one last look at the Abbot and my heart pangs with grief and sorrow. “Do we have to leave him here, to recover on his own?” I ask. “Like, is there something special about the cave that might help his recovery? If not, why don’t we bring him back?” So he can be among his brothers when he passes, though I don’t know how much comfort that could possibly bring. Everyone dies alone, but he doesn’t have to be alone in the time leading up to it.
“...Perhaps you are right.” Sensing my sorrow through my inadvertent Aura, Monk Bones’ shoulders slump in place as he comes to terms with the Abbot’s seemingly inevitable death. “We brought him here so that he could deal with his malady without distraction, but perhaps he would be more comfortable back in the monastery.”
Something tickles the back of my brain, but I can’t quite place what it is, like I’ve forgotten a word that was just on the tip of my tongue, only this is an entire train of thought. That being said, I feel like moving the Abbot back to the monastery is the right move, though I’m not entirely sure why. It just feels right, but I keep quiet as Monk Bones fends off the guardian monks and attends to the Abbot’s needs himself, carefully lifting the decrepit man onto the stretcher and arranging his limbs for comfort and safety before finally allowing the others to help out. It’s easy to see Monk Bones isn’t quite comfortable with the guardian monks treating him like a Divinity, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why until Taduk explains Monk Bones only recently ascended, during the Defiled attack no less. Once again, I owe this explanation to my Aura slipping out and giving away my thoughts, an issue I’ll have to work on eventually, after I sort out more pressing matters at hand.
Honestly, the thought of having all my thoughts and emotions laid bare and giving away more than even my readable expression is actually kinda terrifying. What if people find out I’m a coward? Or that I hate being social? I mean, it’s one thing to know I dislike the company of people, but another altogether to feel my Aura of loathing from having to answer a simple greeting. Seriously though, I hate it when people are just walking by and feel the need to say hi. How am I supposed to respond? Just say hi back and keep walking? What if they had something else to say? Worse, what if they don’t, and I stop anyways, forcing them to stay and socialize?
Despite all my newfangled strength and status, these are the issues that keep me up at night. Well, this stuff and the nightmares, but whatever.
With the Abbot and all the animals in tow, we head back to the monastery at a moderate Cloud-Stepping pace, Kukku and Tai Shan hitching a ride on Monk Bones’ shoulders while Rakshasa moves under his own capacity. Wary of possible traps or ambushes from the Enemy, I keep a caution eye on our surroundings, but it seems like Zhen Shi is not quite ready to break the Treaty once and for all. Both sides are willing to push the envelope as far as it’ll go, but neither one wants to be the first to cross the line, because the results will be disastrous to behold. Powerful as I am, it’s clear I still have a long ways to go before matching up against a Divinity, though I have no idea how to Shatter the Void and proceed from here.
A step I will most certainly have to take soon, judging by how quickly matters are escalating, but one I am loathe to even try. No clue why, it just feels... wrong.
The chanting monks are heard long before the monastery comes into view, but even their sombre tones were not enough to prepare me for what I find once we arrive. The lush landscapes outside have been trampled flat by the passing of Chosen, alongside the ruins of the recently built village meant to house the reformed Defiled. The monastery gates hang loosely upon their hinges, battered and broken with nothing to hold them in place, and as I step through them into the monastery proper, I’m greeted with more despair and misery. Dozens of monks stand idle over their fallen friends and foes, some with heads bowed in prayer and others with eyes locked on the dead, no doubt coming to grips with what they had to do in order to survive. It couldn’t have been easy for these monks to go against their beliefs and fight the Chosen in open combat, and they wouldn’t have had to if not for me. All their grief and anguish is on my shoulders, my hands stained with the blood of monk and Chosen alike, the former all lessened by their experience in battle and the latter laid to rest without chance of redemption.
Knowing what I know now about the Spectres and their insidious goals, how can I hate the Defiled for succumbing to their wiles? They’re sick and they need help, help I fear I am not strong enough to provide.
The monks grieve over the bodies each in their own way with many a Spectre formed only for me to Devour them, but even without their insidious presence, the monks’ mourning casts a pall over the once peaceful monastery, one that almost hurts me to perceive. There is power in emotion, this much I already knew, but only now, after having Refined my body into a Spiritual Heart, do I realize just how palpable that power can be. The air itself feels heavy and murky, adhering to my form like condensation in a fine mist and profaning the walls in this place of peaceful study, as if the world itself is mourning alongside the monks of the Brotherhood.
Of course. That’s why I wanted the Abbot here. So he could sense what was happening in the outside world for himself. Though he’s still unconscious, I’m certain he’s aware of his surroundings, as his once serene expression is now twisted in discomfort. Perhaps the collective mourning will be just the kick in the robes he needs to get his ass into gear and fix what ails him, though now that I think about it, it’s possible all this negative energy might well be too much for his weakened self to handle. Then again, the difference between poison and medicine is oftentimes merely a matter of dosage, so here’s hoping the Abbot grieves just enough, and not too much to send him over the edge or kill him.
Either way, Lin-Lin was right. The Abbot is dying anyways, so it’s not like I can make things worse.
...
Wait a second. Things can always get worse. Like if the Abbot surrenders to despair and turns Defiled. That would be pretty fucking bad now, wouldn’t it?
On that cheerful note, I leave the Abbot and his three Spiritual Floofs in Monk Happy’s care and let Lin-Lin drag me away to find Li-Li and my mundane, but adorable and loving pets, so I can finally lay my throbbing head down to rest. It’s been a long, arduous day for us all, and my work is far from done, because whether I like it or not, it’s long past time I took up the mantle of Legate once more and got back to maintaining the dumpster fire that is the outer provinces.
They say hard work is it’s own reward, but that’s just bullshit. Hard work is for suckers, and apparently, I’m the biggest sucker of all for letting myself get saddled with this thankless job. Hell, far as I can tell, Shuai Jiao might not even step down from his lofty position and could even contest me for full control, which I would love to let happen, but can’t. I mean, the man is a Colonel General, and you don’t rise that high in the ranks just sitting around collecting bottlecaps, but I’m the Legate which means the buck stops at me. I don’t mind giving him more leeway to command, but the way Song told it before I embarked on my mission to find the Abbot, it sounded like Shuai Jiao is leaving the Districts high and dry in this time of troubles, which is just asking for more Spectres, Defiled, and Demons in the long run, to say nothing of the considerable civilian causalities the Enemy will inflict. Whether he agrees with me or not, I intend to protect the people I lured to the Western Wall with promises of land ownership and prosperity, promises I intend to keep, but regardless of what happens, those are problems for future Rain to deal with, while present Rain catches a few z’s.
Fuck you future me. I don’t like you anyways.
Chapter Meme