Savage Divinity

Chapter 352

Waking to the warbling cry of the laughing birds, Song rose to greet the morning with a long, languid stretch. Still fast asleep beside her, Lin and Sister lay tangled in each other’s embrace while bears and wildcats snored peacefully around them. Even Jimjam, usually so anxious and vigilant, lay passed out on his side, his breathing heavy and belly swollen from last night’s bout with gluttony. Taking advantage of this rare opportunity, Song postponed brushing her hair and sidled over to Jimjam’s side, gently stroking his cheek and smiling as he slowly came awake. Eyes widening in surprise, he gave a small yowl as if to ask how’d she got so close. Rubbing his belly to appease him, Song checked his ears, gums, and paws for irregularities, a difficult task given Jimjam’s normal, apprehensive nature.

With a petulant huff, Jimjam closed his eyes and magnanimously accepted Song’s ministrations. When she finished, she couldn’t resist laying down beside the dramatic, overfed wildcat, stroking his neck and picking dried meat and encrusted blood from his fur. Sharing a yurt with Sister and Lin wasn’t so bad, especially with all the animals here to keep them company. Although Sarankho was always available for a hug, Jimjam rarely enjoyed cuddling and Aurie and the bears almost never left Rain’s side. Despite all this, a small part of Song still resented having to give up her private yurt, though mostly because she was certain the devious Luo-Luo would never use it.

When she heard Rain’s new concubine was an Imperial Servant, Song rejoiced at the thought of having someone to help care for Rain’s pets. As much as she enjoyed their company, grooming three wildcats, two bears, and twenty rabbits took too much time out of her day. Unfortunately, Luo-Luo’s naive outlook and duplicitous personality proved ‘Imperial Servant’ was merely a different way to say ‘spoiled noble’, expecting to be waited on hand and foot while reading into every word and gesture from those around her. Song had met plenty of women like her, a calculating social chameleon who changed personalities as easily as others changed clothes. With Lin, Luo-Luo feigned childish wonder and boundless delight, but with Sister-in-Law Sarnai, she behaved like a prim and proper lady eager to please her new husband. Given her deceitful and scheming personality, Luo-Luo had much to do before earning Song’s trust, but for now, the ‘Servant’ would be too busy winning over her husband to bother with anyone else.

As a plus, with an outlet for his lust, Rain’s lecherous ways might be constrained to Luo-Luo alone, leaving Song, Sister, and Lin all well alone.

That said, last night’s banquet was surprisingly enjoyable, Song’s first public event with her entire family. Mama’s and Sister’s dresses were beautiful, but Song could never bring herself to wear something so revealing, not by choice at least. No, a soldier’s tunic and trousers were good enough, with her comfortable Runic armour worn over top and her trusty saber at her hip. As last night’s poisoning proved, one could never be too careful when dealing with privileged members of nobility. Although Mama and Papa would never allow it, Song couldn’t forget all the social events she’d attended in Central after Teacher Du gifted her to Master Kai, nor how she suffered at the hands of those lecherous aristocrats...

Unhappy memories aside, when the Crier introduced Mama, Papa, Sister, and herself as one family, Song’s heart swelled with joy, and that was only the beginning. The beautiful decorations, the delicious foods, the relaxing ambient music, and the adorable antics from the animals, the night went perfectly until Rain collapsed from poison. Even then, seeing how he recovered without incident, Song marked the banquet as a rousing success. The nobles ate, met Rain’s concubine, and nobody died, a much tamer event than she’d expected. Rain rarely accomplished anything quietly, and even though someone tried to have him killed, his quick thinking, unsavoury solution, remarkable fortitude, and casual disregard for pain and death proved he deserved his new Imperial Peerage.

It felt strange approving of Rain’s actions, and although minor issues regarding negative public opinion might soon arise, Song couldn’t deny how impressive and effective his demonstration had been. After barely grimacing when Brother Baatar cut his belly open, Rain didn’t even bat an eye while the Medical Saint rummaged through his innards. Then, the second he finished Healing, Rain jolted up and joked about his empty stomach before devouring a full meal in front of his awed guests, a most appropriate, if crude, display of power and endurance. Though his new title kept him safe from harm, his actions would make even the most embittered noble think twice before offending the Bekhai.

A performance most suitable for the Undying Savage.

Having idled about long enough, Song hurriedly braided her hair and threw on her armour before carrying the sluggish bears and wildcats out to sleep in the grass. This way, Sister and Lin could rest uninterrupted, or more likely, not wake up to a stinky surprise left by the trapped animals.

Noticing a crowd of quins gathered around Rain’s door, Song headed over to see what all the fuss was about. As she approached, Rain’s door rattled and a muted, distressed chirp sounded out from within, causing all the gathered quins to respond in kind. Perhaps Mafu was trapped inside, though why Rain would invite a quin into his yurt on the eve of his marriage was not something Song wanted to dwell on.

What a perverted deviant... And to think, Song was starting to respect him...

Against her better judgment, Song pushed past the crowd of quins and unlatched the door. Far from the cheerful welcome she’d expected, she blinked in surprise as it burst open to reveal a snarling, unfamiliar, quin. Holding her ground with a snarl, she held one palm up in warning while the other hand rested firmly on her saber’s hilt. Cowing the defensive quin with her unyielding demeanour and silent threat, its anger subsided as it shifted from side to side, sniffing her palm and licking its jowls before letting loose with a plaintive whine. The poor thing seemed so distressed, Song wanted to reach out to pat its nose, but seeing its long, dagger-like fangs and obvious agitation, Song wisely kept her hands to herself. With the quin refusing to back down and Song unable to do so without possibly triggering its hunter’s instincts, she found herself in a stalemate. Where did this unsociable creature come from? Why was it inside Rain’s yurt? Was the quin’s antagonistic behaviour the result of whatever debauchery Rain partook of last night?

Thankfully, their awkward standoff didn’t last long as Mafu darted around Song, past the angry quin, and into the yurt, his tail lashing back and forth the whole time. Emerging a few seconds later with a quin pup nestled in his arms, Mafu ran off chittering with the adorable creature and left Song in bemused confusion. A second, fully-grown quin soon emerged carrying two more pups, giving Song a cursory sniff before taking off after the pup thief Mafu, squeaking up a storm as the pack followed in their wake. The angry quin also disappeared and returned with two sleeping pups, ignoring Song to run off and follow its mate.

Out of self-preservation and perhaps even morbid curiosity, Song stood at the doorway and peered into the dimly lit room. Asleep on the floor, Rain wore the same clothes Song had last seen him in, his bed never slept in and the new girl nowhere to be seen. Were Rain’s tastes so depraved that not even an Imperial Servant could stomach them? No, for all their talk of superiority and eminence, nobles were a sordid and degenerate bunch, so it was doubtful Luo-Luo’s training wouldn’t prepare her for the worst. Perhaps he sent her away because the poison and subsequent healing must have taken its toll on him, or why else would he still be asleep? Rain had many flaws but indolence could not be counted among them. Considering he’d been too tired to change his clothes, it’s possible Rain left his concubine untouched and unspoiled, a small mercy in Song’s mind, though Luo-Luo would certainly see things differently.

It still begged the question, where did Rain find a clutch of quin pups to snuggle with?

Her curiosity sated, Song closed the door and left Rain to sleep. Stepping into the rabbit enclosure, she smiled as the darling creatures stopped playing and gathered around to greet her, rearing up on their hind legs with twitching noses and hopeful stares. For some strange reason, Roc was also in the enclosure, hopping and flapping about to avoid the playful baby rabbits with an indignant look in his eyes, though too scared to attack with Mama Bun watching his every move. Annoyed by the repeated efforts to bowl him over, Roc hopped over to Song with wings outstretched in a futile attempt to take flight. Catching him mid-hop, Song brought him close to inspect for injuries but found him in perfect condition, his wings opening and closing without signs of pain or discomfort. Shaking her head in disbelief, Song let Roc perch on her shoulder as she fed and brushed the rabbits, all the while scouring her brain for ways to help a bird lose weight.

Only Rain could raise a bird too fat to fly. How did Roc even get back to camp last night?

With the rabbits all fed and Blackjack joining Roc on her shoulder, Song headed to their shared campfire and took a seat beside Niece Alsantset at her behest. “Little Rain is lucky to have your help,” Alsantset said, grinning as she passed Song a plate laden with food. “Otherwise, I fear we would soon have a rabbit rebellion on our hands.” Unsure how to respond, Song merely nodded and stared at her plate, eating in silence as Roc and Blackjack watched on. Though always warm and friendly, her half-tiger niece made Song feel inferior in every way, whether it be lineage, appearance, strength or skill. Confident and ferocious, Alsantset embodied everything Song hoped to be, yet feared she would never measure up.

Unperturbed by the lacklustre response, the older woman leaned in and whispered, “I saw you peek into Little Rain’s yurt. I wanted to do the same, but Beloved scolded me for being nosy. Tell me, how are the newlyweds faring?”

Swallowing her delicious mouthful of fragrant meat-bun, Song answered, “Rain slept on the floor in his clothes. Luo-Luo was not present, but he had a pair of quins and five pups keeping him company.”

“Tch.” Niece Alsantset frowned and asked, “But why? She’s so lovely, I’d have thought he’d exhaust himself f...” Noticing her children listening nearby, she changed her line of questioning. “Tell me, you were there when they met. Was he displeased with Luo-Luo? Is it because she’s so much taller? Or... Does Little Rain have something against full-blooded women?”

“Leave it be, my flower,” Charok admonished, shaking his head with a smile. “You know how he is with strangers. Even if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, Little Rain would still balk at accepting a stranger into his life. Remember when we tried to help him make friends? It did not end well for anyone, especially those poor children.”

“Those brats deserved it.” Crossing her arms with a petulant pout, Niece Alsantset defended Rain as always. “I warned them to play nice yet they still scared him with their cruel pranks.” Rolling his eyes, Charok said no more while Niece Alsantset stewed in anger. Scowling at Luo-Luo’s yurt, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “And here I thought the girl happy to join us, so tenacious and determined to win Rain’s affection. How disappointing, especially after Mama spent a fortune hosting a lavish banquet and Beloved worked himself to the bone preparing the feast.”

Uncertain why she felt the need to defend Luo-Luo, Song spoke without thinking. “Perhaps Rain sent her away.”

“You think her charms failed to catch Rain’s eye?” After a moment’s thought, Alsantset scoffed and shook her head. “Impossible. With her beauty and his lecherous personality, she’d only need to express a hint of interest and Rain would have torn her clothes off and...” Belatedly remembering her children again, Niece Alsantset coughed to cover up what she was about to say. “No, perhaps I misjudged her. Perhaps she’s like all the other nobles we’ve met, another lazy, spoiled brat expecting to be coddled and pampered. I gave her the benefit of a doubt, but her prejudice betrays her. Did you hear her yesterday? ‘Tali has the most impeccable manners’. Hmph. So surprising, because we Bekhai are manner-less savages in her eyes. She probably made up some excuse or another and Rain was too kind to press the issue.” With a mournful sigh, Niece Alsantset lamented, “Oh how I worry for little Rain so. Three wives and not a single one capable of caring for my little brother. I should never have let Yan leave with that old, doddering fool. Now there was a girl with a proper work ethic and eager to boot. I only hope she’s still interested else Little Rain is destined to become a henpecked husband.” With a mournful sigh, Niece Alsantset patted Song’s cheek and opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it and held her tongue instead.

Unhappy with Niece Alsantset’s assessment of Teacher Du and uncomfortable with the direction their one-sided conversation had taken, Song hurriedly finished her breakfast and escaped. Delicious as the food was, bringing up Du Min Yan left a sour taste in her mouth. Teacher Du discarded Song without a second thought, yet there were rumours aplenty of how he lost everything in adopting Yan. What did she have that Song lacked? Was it solely due to Yan’s Awakening, or was there something more? Though formidable, Yan’s performance on stage wasn’t enough to awe Song, not like Sister or Niece Alsantset could. Had she access to Teacher Du’s undivided attention for eighteen months, Song was certain she could have handily defeated both Wu Gam and Rain.

Why was the Mother so unfair to her children? What sin had Song committed to be treated so unjustly?

For the first time in memory, Song arrived at the training field and Mister Rustram wasn’t waiting with sword in hand to greet her. Unsure how to proceed, she stood in place and waited for her partner to arrive, eager to clear her mind and focus on practice. There were no complications when training with Mister Rustram, no need for conversation or polite manners, only an exchange of swords to their mutual benefit before going on their separate ways. It was exactly what Song needed, a simple, straightforward task to accomplish and distract her from wondering what could have been had the Mother seen fit to smile upon her.

“Lady Song.” Interrupting her thoughts, Dastan offered her a slight bow and said, “Mister Rustram regrets to inform you that since his Mentor demands his presence each morning, he no longer has time to train with your esteemed self.” Flashing what he thought to be a charming smile, Dastan continued, “He’s asked me to step in, or if you’d prefer someone else, you have your pick of the retinue.”

Oh? Happy for Mister Rustram but saddened to lose her training partner, Song nodded and followed Dastan onto the field. Mister Rustram usually chose a more secluded venue and Song approved his choice. As Teacher Du once said ‘Knowledge is a weapon more formidable than any blade’, and because the training field sat on the edge of camp, there were always strangers hanging about. A mixed bunch, everything from curious civilians, enterprising hawkers, and spies reporting everything they saw to their masters. Thus far, the makeshift fence, Imperial Decree, and general Bekhai distrust of strangers kept anyone from slipping in, but seeing how Rain’s enemies were bold enough to poison him in the Magistrate’s Palace, Song didn’t expect their cursory safety measures to hold for much longer.

To make matters worse, today’s crowd was larger than ever before, their numbers swelled by the attendants of minor nobles and rich merchants hoping to catch the attention of ‘Imperial Consort Falling Rain’. Some even went as far as shouting invitations and propositions in hopes they would reach Rain’s ears, while others recognized Dastan by his Runic Shield and clamoured for his attention. Though he feigned indifference, Dastan enjoyed the attention, his back straight and head held high while looking everywhere except at the crowd. That’s what gave him away, trying too hard to appear disinterested which only showed how interested he really was. Proving Song’s intuition correct, Dastan stopped close to the field’s edge even though there were plenty of others open areas for them to train in. The crowd moved in as close to the barricades as humanly possible and called out for Dastan’s attention, asking insipid questions like, “Will you challenge any of the other Hwarang?”, “Are you stronger than Falling Rain?”, “Is this (pointing at Song) your lady love?”, and other pointless queries.

Leaving him to answer their questions and bask in the attention, Song took her place and prepared for their match, her lips pursed in displeasure as he introduced her as ‘Lieutenant General Akanai’s Daughter’. Not that it wasn’t true, but he left out so much more. Song was also Daughter of Divine Blacksmith Husolt and sister of Mila, the true number one talent in the Empire. Worse, from the baffled looks directed her way, she realized at least some in the crowd recognized her green eyes and brown-furred cat ears which marked her as a half-beast slave from Central, shaming Mama and Papa alike. Although Dastan was also Oathsworn, few were privy to the fact and with how well Rain treated him, unless someone purposely revealed his status, no one would ever know his shameful secret.

Almost a quarter hour later, Dastan was still chatting with the crowd and Song had almost reached the end of her patience. Dastan wasn’t even an ideal training partner, the two of them too unevenly matched to do anything but spar. While sparring was a form of training, why spar with Dastan when she had Sister, Niece Alsantset, or even Rain to match blades with? In contrast, what made Mister Rustram an ideal training partner wasn’t his strength, skill, or insight, but because he constantly made mistakes. In identifying and correcting his mistakes, Song discovered flaws in her own style, an arrangement which benefited them both.

“Enough, enough, I’ve made my partner wait long enough.” Smiling as he turned away from the crowd, Dastan finally took his place across from Song, his body relaxed and lips turned upwards in a smug, self-satisfied smile. Dangerous for them to spar with Spiritual Weapons, but Song didn’t care to delay this farce for even a second more. After today, she would have an opening in her morning routine, for Dastan’s arrogance was far too much to stomach.

He didn’t understand how blessed he was to have a master like Falling Rain. Why did the Mother love everyone but her?

“My apologies, Lady Song. Whenever you’re ready.”

In response, Song’s saber hummed through the air as she opened with a downward slash, prepared to clash head-on with the Runic shield. While unsure if the shields worked the same way, she knew her Runic armour boasted an effect which dampened impacts and assumed the shield would do the same. Armed with this knowledge, Song intended to take advantage of the dampening effect to turn her slash into a stab, allowing her to end the match in an instant.

Except somehow, her saber cut through empty air as Dastan side-stepped and avoided the attack, his movements so fluid and nimble it almost looked inhuman.

Cursing her negligence, Song disengaged and stepped back to re-evaluate her opponent. How could she forget why the crowd was so eager to see him? Only yesterday, Dastan demonstrated his true strength by defeating Mitsue Hideo in a consummate display of skill and agility, a feat Song wasn’t certain she could replicate. What’s more, though she defeated him time and time again in the past six months, they used common training weapons in those spars. This was the first time she faced him with Spiritual Weapon in hand, and he seemed like a different warrior altogether. During their previous spars, he always seemed driven and impatient, recklessly diving into battle in hopes of victory, but no more. Today, he stood across from her a changed man, tranquil and composed with a joyful gleam in his eyes. What she mistook for arrogance was in fact childlike glee, enjoying the challenge for what it was worth without caring for victory or defeat.

Interesting.

Abandoning her preconceived notions of his strength, Song moved in to exchange blows and test this new Dastan, absorbing and analyzing his every moment as they circled the field. Back and forth they went and neither one took the upper hand, their match silent but for the stomping of boots and panting of breath. First ten, then twenty, then thirty exchanges without the clang of saber meeting axe or shield, and not for lack of trying on either part. On their forty seventh exchange, the ring of metal on metal sounded out as Song’s saber glanced off Dastan’s Runic shield, and she cursed her past self. The Runic shield failed to dampen the impact and her blade bounced off its surface, which meant the shield was inferior to her armour. Unfortunately, this also meant that if he’d responded with an active parry to her opening attack, the match would have ended after a single exchange just as she hoped, only with her defeat instead of his.

After more than a hundred exchanges, Song finally had a grasp on his movements. Wolf Form – Circling the Grass, Oriole Form – Rising Steps, and Snake Form – Slithering Pursuit, three different movements from three different Forms all focusing on footwork. While Dastan hadn’t exactly merged them into something new, he used all three in delicate harmony, making his constantly shifting movements unpredictable and erratic without sacrificing balance or poise. To control these strange movements, Dastan constantly shifted his centre of gravity by alternating Lightening and Stability at varying magnitudes. A difficult task even without distraction, but something Dastan accomplished in the midst of battle as easily as turning his hand.

When did he become so proficient at Chi manipulation? Was this the advantage provided by a Natal Palace?

Throwing everything she had into the match, their weapons rang out in an accelerated concert of steel. Stalking the Dragon, Swiping the Rushes, Reversing the Flow into Fanged Clutch, Song’s most trusted combination failed to find an opening in his defence, though it allowed her to grab hold of his shield. Wrenching it aside with an effort of pure strength, she leapt up and twisted her body in mid air before driving both boots firmly into Dastan’s exposed face. With a tuck of her head, she rolled across the dirt and came to her feet with saber at the ready, but the spar was over. Hands held up in defeat, Dastan said, “Mercy, Lady Song.” His smile bloodied but genuine, he clasped his hands and bowed in respect. “As always, I am awed by your skill and strength.”

After a moment of hushed silence, the shocked crowd burst into cheers and applause, delighted by the show of Martial skill. Breathless and ashamed, Song offered Dastan a salute and left, her feet carrying her away as quickly as they could without breaking into a run. Her winning move was something Mama had forbidden her to use, because the last time Song tried it, Rain struck her in the back of the head before she could turn. Judging by how quickly Dastan recovered, he also had time enough to lop off her head, but instead forfeited to spare her ego. Song believed she still stood at the forefront of her peers, but Dastan’s remarkable improvement proved her wrong. No matter what Mama claimed, without strength, Song served no purpose, so she had no choice but to condense her Natal Palace as soon as possible.

Only... she didn’t know how and Mama was too busy to teach her. What was she to do?

Two things were certain though. Tomorrow morning, she would return to spar with Dastan again, but not before telling Rain to take more responsibility for his pets.

Chapter Meme

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