Savage Divinity

Chapter 200

Ever since waking from my ill-fated attempt to stop a boat by standing in front of it, Ive been dealing with a seemingly never ending list of aches and afflictions. Its not just bumps and bruises but more serious things like unhealed nerve damage from my nibbled off toes, burst blood vessels in my lungs, and minor organ failure. Even with my one trick easy healing, I still feel like shit day after day, and my new concussion courtesy of the Shrikes goons isnt helping. None of those injuries alone are debilitating, but combined, they make for an uncomfortable experience.

Its almost not worth it.

...

To make matters worse, Im forced to bite my lip and endure as my poor, virgin ass is abused for hours on end. Up and down, up and down, all day long, my body cant take it anymore. I blame Fung entirely. Why can't Akanai force him to ride a quin? How did horses get so romanticized? I dont care how fast or powerful they are, this is hands down the most uncomfortable ride Ive ever taken. Am I crazy or do cushions not exist? A thick padding wouldnt make the ride comfortable by any measure, but itd be a whole hell of a lot better than sitting on a saddle made from what I can only assume is the hardest leather known to man.

I miss Mafus soft, squishy butt, with a thick layer of fat under his dense, plushy fur, swaying left and right in an incredibly soothing gait. Then theres his dry, pellet-shaped, near-odourless poops, something I never fully appreciated until exposed to the sickening stench of horse farts. With literally kilograms of fibre constantly moving through their intestines day in and day out, youd think a horse's bowels would be relatively clean, but nothing could be farther from the truth. Disgusting creatures.

...

I need a vacation.

After hours of arduous travel, the darkened skies mercifully put an end to our days ride. Sliding off my diamond-backed mount, I close my eyes and sigh with relief, both feet on steady ground, body swaying slightly as I adjust to the lack of motion. Ass bruised, thighs cramped, head pounding, and lungs burning, I stumble towards the river with a basin and wash cloth in hand.

Fool, youre in no condition to care for yourself. Catching me by the arm, Fung takes the basin and cloth from my hands and gingerly guides me away, setting me down in a clearing while his soldiers make camp around us. I didnt ask for help... But its nice of him to do so. I mean cmon, its Fung, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Hes probably never helped someone sit before in his life. Be thankful.

Unable to find a comfortable position, I abandon all pride and flop to my side like a doll with its strings cut. Thank you. I dont understand how you can endure riding those things day after day. I was ready to quit after five minutes.

It gets better with practice. Rest for now, Ill wake you when dinner is ready.

No, I need to mediate and heal, itll go faster if I concentrate. Ah fuck. Err... Help me sit up please?

Rolling his eyes, Fung saunters off and returns promptly, carrying a log in both hands. Grumbling beneath his breath about taking advantage of his good nature, he places the log down and props me against it. Anything else, Lord Rain? Shall I play you a rousing tune or tell a tale of bravery and adventure to keep you entertained?

Hes just joking around, dont be so sensitive. Play along. No need, I answer with a dismissive wave, affecting a false air of superiority. Go about your business, Ill be waiting for my meal.

With a smile and a mocking bow, Fung steps away to oversee his troops while I close my eyes. Fighting the temptation to fall asleep, I reach for Balance and check on my body, focusing all efforts on my head injury first. As tempting it is to soothe my bruised tailbone, theres the whole triage thing to keep in mind. Truth be told, I dont really need to concentrate on healing, Ive been doing it all day. There's not much I can do without proper rest and large meals. Instead, I slip into the void and check on Baledagh, his astral form exactly as I left him, his mind fully immersed in his perfect dreamworld. Putting my arm around his shoulder, I settle in to watch his dreams together.

Honestly, I dont really know why Im here. Its awkward watching him gallivant through this illusion while his every desire falls into his lap. His dreams are so empty and hollow, a masturbatory fantasy in which all his needs and wants are met. Wheres the challenge and excitement? Every decision he makes is the right one, nothing ever goes wrong for him, with his perfect wife and child.

The child named after me.

...

I need to be here, help him through this after he wakes. I know from personal experience this dream, this fantasy isnt so easy to shake off. Happiness is one hell of a drug, it makes all your problems melt away and you accept things as they are. Even if you find it suspicious, you dont want to delve deeper because, real or fake, youre happy which is all that matters.

Im slowly unravelling the mystery of the Spectres and the Defiled. When I first woke in the woods after Ai-Qings death, our body was in terrible shape, but Baledagh was running and fighting like he was in top condition. He claimed devouring the Spectres healed our body, but looking back, Im almost positive hes not entirely correct. The Spectres healed us, but it was a patchwork job at best, getting us into working order and no more. By all rights, Baledagh should have been somewhere between agonizing pain and comatose. I mean, hes a tough kid, but dealing with torment isnt exactly his strong suit. Thats more my wheelhouse.

My best guess is the Spectres healed him, but only enough to get him mobile while numbing his ability to feel pain. It explains how the Defiled can keep fighting after taking grievous injuries, walking around limbless and gutted without falling into shock. I mean hell, it took all my creative efforts to get a Defiled screaming in pain and she was already impaled on a spear. Physically, the Defiled are no different from normal people, so it makes sense their toughness is a mental rather than somatic advantage.

Why leave their hosts half dead? Who knows. Maybe theyre lazy, unwilling to work so hard unless their host is a sure thing. Or they might hold the pain as their trump card, removing their aid in times of stress and shocking their hosts into compliance. Carrot and stick, give their hosts what they want, keep them happy, and leave them in crippling pain should they ever attempt to renege.

Those bastard Spectres really know how to make a deal.

Still, why go to all this trouble? Why not overpower their hosts in a hostile takeover, trapping them like Demon Vivek trapped all those soldiers? Probably because they cant for whatever reason. They require compliance, or more accurately, surrender, which means there must be a way to fight back, to reject or renounce their influence. It means all hope is not lost for Baledagh.

Probably.

Hopefully?

And I might be getting ahead of myself here, but if Baledagh does manage to free himself from the Spectres, what happens to me? Do I get evicted along with them or do I fall into another category of spiritual parasitism? Does the answer matter? Hes willing to die so I can live, am I too selfish to do the same for him?

Young hero Falling Rain, water to wash and your meal awaits. Fu Zu Li interrupts my quasi-suicidal musings, directing my gaze to a basin of steaming hot water and a plate of meat and travel bread.

Oh bless your heart, thank you thank you thank you. Welcoming the distraction, I ignore the torturers ever present frown and gracefully decline his offer of aid. Running the hot, damp cloth across my face feels wonderfully refreshing, as does wiping away the dust and sweat from my wiry frame. A small fire pit has been dug into the earth, hiding the flames in most directions, but its worth risking ambush for the hot water alone. My thin arms and lean chest are revealed by the firelight, the shadows making everything seem worse than it is. I used to be so fit and muscular, not beefy but sinewy and strong, a body to be proud of. Now, Ive been reduced to nothing but skin and bones, its almost enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Calm down, theres nothing you can do to remedy the situation. You need food and rest, luxuries you cant afford at the moment, but at least were still breathing. Optimism is a hard sell in this world, which really brings to light how easy the Spectres have it. I mean, this world is so bleak and dispiriting, I cant even enjoy my dinner without feeling guilty. A deliciously rare steak sits waiting for me and all I can think about is the poor horse it came from. Sure I hate riding the animals, but no ones forcing me to do it. The horse had no choice, we forced him to run until he lamed himself, and how did we show our gratitude? Someone took him into the forest and slit his throat.

Is this whats in store for me? Following orders and struggling to survive until Ive nothing more to give, only to die for the sake of convenience?

Nope, gotta stay upbeat and positive, cant let the Spectres get me down. Negativity, thats how those bastards get you, slowly unbalancing you until youve no choice but to rely on them. Theyre tricky, they know to start small. A few harmless observations, like how your friend keeps a master torturer on retainer or widespread animal cruelty. In the grand scheme of things, it doesnt seem like much, but after days, weeks, months, or years, the little observations start to build up.

They tell you how you have no control over your life, tricked into joining a mercenary force, saddled with two shockingly young wives without being consulted, stuck in a position of command you never wanted with a reputation for brutality you dont deserve. Your domineering mother-in-law disapproves of you, your wifes slave turned friend hates you, a veritable superpower wants you dead, and no one will miss you when youre gone.

After however long it takes, the Spectres are left with a depressed, angry, disenfranchised host, and they begin offering solutions. Push away your friend with the torturer, you dont need him in your life. Say something about the horses, this isnt right. Quit the Sentinels, they dont need you. Dismiss your betrothals, you dont want to be tied down.

With each instruction you follow, they reward you with a feeling of satisfaction, like a dog earning a treat. They condition you to behave as they wish, slowly escalating each situation, lending you their strength when needed. Teach the uppity slave a lesson. Kill those who want you dead. If you already have the reputation, then you might as well deserve it. The further down their road you walk, the more isolated and vulnerable you become. Reliant on their rewards to feel good about yourself, you slowly succumb to their desires one by one until before you know it, youve gone full on murder hobo, eating the flesh of children and torturing people for laughs.

Insidious is what they are, so subtle and skillful, even knowing what theyre doing doesnt help much. No matter what I do, I can still hear their voices, so finely woven I can barely discern their whispers from my own thoughts. How do I beat them? Is it even possible?

Rain? Shaking my shoulder lightly, Fung looks at me with concern. Is everything all right?

Why wouldnt it be?

With a pointed look, Fung answers, Because youve been staring at a basin of water for some time now. Your foods gone cold. Blinking owlishly, I glance at the cold water to my plate, then back at Fung, unable to voice my thoughts. Taking a seat next to me, Fung bumps me with his shoulder. Ive noticed youve been rather introspective of late. Anything you care to share?

I cant talk to him, he wouldnt understand. Its nothing young magistrate Fung need concern himself with, Im just having trouble focusing. Head wound and what not.

Shaking his head sadly, Fung exhales slowly. Lets be serious for a moment. Ive heard rumours of your actions during the Purge, though the only thing I know for certain is you took an oath of silence, as did a few dozen soldiers across the four cities. A cruel demand considering many have trouble coping with what is arguably cold-blooded murder without help, but I doubt Major Yuzhen would demand oaths if not absolutely necessary. You have a penchant for stirring up trouble, my friend.

Its not the Purge bothering me. Uncomfortable with the lie, I correct myself. Its not entirely the Purge.

Smiling at my admission, Fung retorts, So you admit something is bothering you then? Good. If not the Purge, then what is it?

Its nothing.

Raising an eyebrow, Fung sits in silence and waits for me to speak, but unfortunately for him, this power play doesnt work on me. Grabbing my plate, I stare down at the horse steak, guilt wrestling against hunger as my meal sits untouched. Finally giving up, Fung pats my shoulder and sighs, leaning back to stare up into the night sky. I wont continue to pry, but know should you ever need my aid, I am here to help.

His words fill me with warmth and bring a smile to my face. Hes right, hes my friend. I have people to rely on, to help me through this. Stupid to try to go at it alone, its exactly what the Spectres want. After taking a moment to order my thoughts, I lean back and admit, Ive been depressed lately. The more I see of the world, the more I want to go back to the village and never leave again. I mean, my first time out, I ran into bandits and DuGu Ren, then things escalated from there. Throwing my hands to the air, the frustration is evident in my tone, the words pouring out once my seal of silence is broken. The Purge is only the latest and greatest in a string of events emphasizing how shitty things are in the world, and now I cant stop focusing on the negatives. Ive been sitting here mourning the poor horse on my plate, and I cant get past it. He just wanted to carry our burdens and we killed him. All true, though omitting some important details. I dont understand how we as a nation built around the concept of Balance are capable of such horrific acts. Genocide, slavery, torture, it sickens me how its all so widely accepted.

Fungs chuckle strikes a nerve, my irritation flaring as he shakes his head. Here I am baring my soul and he laughs? Sorry, sorry, its just.. I asked a question just like this... when I was five. It really highlights your sheltered upbringing. My anger subsides as he catches his breath, embarrassment taking its place. After taking a deep breath, Fung launches into his explanation. Balance is a concept for which we humans are ill-suited. We are fragile, emotional creatures, capable of observation and thought which many scholars believe hinders our progress. Animals naturally seek Balance, but humans must reach for it, struggle to hold it, and there has yet to be a single person who has truly mastered it.

How would you know?

With a pointed look, Fung replies, Because we have yet to produce the equivalent of an Ancestral Beast. After giving me a moment to absorb the information, Fung continues. Youre a good man and a skilled warrior, but youve confused Balance with morality. There is no right or wrong, no good or evil when it comes to Balance. Life and death are but two sides of the same coin, both required for the world to continue. Take for example a wildfire ravaging through a forest, destroying trees and killing wildlife without mercy. Many would see the flames as evil, but it is also a source of renewal. The dead trees nourish the soil and without them, the canopy no longer blocks out the sunlight, allowing for new growth. Some trees have even been noted to only produce seeds after a fire, meaning the forest cannot be sustained without the flames.

So youre saying fire is good? Of course a pyromaniac like Fungs dad would love fire.

No. Animated, Fung sits up and turns to me with a knowing smile. The fire is neither good nor evil, it is merely an agent of Balance. As humans, we allow our morals and philosophies to colour our judgment, which affects our ability to find Balance. Does the rabbit consider the wolf evil? Does a flower hate the deer? Perhaps they do, but each are merely acting in their nature. Morality is a human construct, Balance a natural one. Its how people like the Shrike and Fu Zu Li retain Balance, they are merely doing what is required of them.

Going over everything hes said makes my mind spin. Then how come anger and rage are so bad for Balance?

It isnt. Toomuch anger is another thing altogether. Take all things in moderation. Laugh when you want to, cry when you must, fight when called upon, and stand up for what you believe. Shrugging, he adds, Its all much easier said than done of course.

After a long pause, I give up trying to understand it for now and return to the root of my problems. Okay... None of this really helps my mood problems. Any suggestions?

Another shrug. We live in a world of trials and tribulations. I usually get drunk and visit the Golden Swan Pavilion, but neither one is a viable option for you. Weve a battle to fight and your betrothed is not a woman to cross lightly.

Laughing at his exaggerated shivers, I clap him on the shoulder. Thank you my friend. You were no help at all, but you have a very soothing voice. Ill have no trouble falling asleep tonight.

Rolling his eyes, he settles back down beside me. Anytime, it is my duty as your Martial Uncle to guide my Martial Nephew. Besides, I enjoy watching your lips move while you struggle to comprehend higher concepts. It amuses me greatly.

Ha ha, enjoy your seniority while it lasts. After I marry Mila, I'll be your Senior Brother-in-law.

Our banter continues into the night, laughing and chatting around the fire. Whatever problems I face, Fung reminded me I have people to help me through them. My family, my friends, even my pets, I dont have to go at it alone. My mood lightened, my attention turns back to my rumbling stomach. Taking a bite of the horse steak, I mentally offer a prayer in its honour. Sorry horsey, but Im hungry. It was wrong to kill you, but all I can do is apologize for the necessity. May you have better luck in your next life.

Thank you for being so delicious.

Chapter Meme