It was funny in a way.
Almost half a year of sharing the same lectures from the Old Man, and this would be the first time that Aretaphila had met the Princesses gaze directly. Not that she and her had been on bad terms or anything, it simply…
Was a matter of different priorities. Aretaphila had her duties. Rina Callista had her big adventures and flag waving. Both tasks were important, and in turn both demanded their fullest attention. Once upon a time the Myia girl would have tried to chat her up...But age had a way of providing focus and perspective and drive in ways that children often lacked.
Formative experiences notwithstanding, sometimes you had to give up things you wanted for the things you needed.
Thankfully, however, they were both free if only for a moment. Now, in the time between convalescence and assignment of new duties for the Clan.
"Yo," Aretaphila waved, her gaze a bit sharper, her face a bit leaner, her height only a bit taller than the last time Rina had seen her, "You free for a drink, Princess?" She tilted a hand backwards to her lips in the universal invitation.
Rina looked much the same as ever--if her hair was a little more golden and her eyes matching now, she was still recognizable from the waif she was in the tail end of the last century. Her ascension into Foundation Establishment had gone a long way towards keeping the usual wear and tear of life as an elite Cultivator under control.
Which wasn't to say there were no differences--it would be impossible to dismiss the added
weight her attention brought with it--especially as she turned to face Aretaphila at the remark. Notably, there were also some visible bags beneath her eyes--a symptom of the hard work that came with the trials.
She blinked for a moment, and waved back. "Aretaphila! It's been a while!" She smiled. "And you're… Oooh, you're almost there too! Just one last little push I think! It'll be nice to have some company here--everyone keeps going on and on and on and buying all of my public reports but just kind of watching from a distance or something." She does frown a bit there. "It's kind of funny really when you get right down to it, I'd be glad to get a drink though!"
As the two near one another Aretaphila notes sourly that the ascension appeared to have not only provided the other woman with additional gravitas, but also increased her height as well, a faint downward tugging of lips the only sign of the observation.
"I know a place," She said instead, "One of Magnus' little franchises, if you can believe it." Indeed, the past century had been beneficial in the extreme to their peer and fellow Indomitable, and he had parlayed his infamy and contribution points into the establishment of a minor business empire. Which was shocking, but if the Myia had ever been canny bean counters like the Centenius' were, they likely wouldn't have been forced into Waycastle Myia centuries ago in the first place. Still, it carried good booze, and this establishment was just off the main road through the Golden Fields into the Dawn Fortress. An ideal location for a brewery and bar all in one.
It was the business of a few moments to get the proprietor to lead the two women to a private booth, flaring with arrays that muted the sound of conversation save for those sitting at the table.
"So," Aretaphila began after a server had arrived with their chosen drinks, "Did you hear about Peta?"
Rina grimaced, leaning back at her seat. "Yeah, a bad business that--it'd be one thing if her luck just ran out and she ran into the wrong person… Just giving up like that though?" She shook her head. "I can't see someone getting that far, and then just… Stopping, you know? Doing that much and just settling back and assuming that everything would be fine."
The Myia nodded in agreement, "It's not just her, though." Aretaphila raised a hand, fingers splayed out, "Eirene, Ferenike, Tasos, Diogenes, Mograine," Five fingers closed into a fist, "Even Achille and myself, depending on how little of a splash we've made and who you ask respectively." She chuckled mirthlessly, "It's amazing how everything that looked so bright and promising back then can change in the span of a hundred years."
The shorter woman looked down, appearing sad, "We were the Indomitable Thirteen on that bright and glorious day. Where we saved so many of our Juniors in the face of all that tragedy." A pause, and with a queer smile on her face Aretaphila drank deeply from her flagon, the Fermented Bitterroot Stout draining in audible gulps, "Now the stories are remembered, but we're still here making our own. Even if over half of us seem to have just...gotten off."
For the first time since greeting Rina, one of Aretaphila's eyes closes in a once-common expression, "I used to be a fan of stories as a young girl. What about you, Princess?"
"Pretty much the only thing I
could enjoy" Rina mused, settling back and picking up her own drink--some kind of chilled cider of some who-the-hell-knows fruit. "I wasn't in the best of health when I was young, and it wasn't until I was tested that they realized why--a few years of backbreaking training and running around in formation and that got sorted out in a hurry."
She paused then, closing her eyes. "Just about half of us then." She muses. "I wonder how much it boiled down to the results of that mess? A close brush with mortality, and then… Well, it's easy to be heroic when you're ignorant of what you're up against, or in the heat of the moment… It's another thing entirely to do it again and again when you've already paid the price of doing it. Of course, I can't talk too much on the matter, the worst I've ever really taken is a bit of a mauling before I'm back up on my feet in good order--even a bloody Nascent Soul deciding to take a poke, I managed to survive their first attack until a friendly demigod flew in and took the pressure off--and I'm already good to go again. On some level, I halfway feel that I'm already committed… But who knows what will come in the future."
Aretaphila smiled bitterly, "A friendly demigod, huh? Sure would be nice to have one of those around here." Her gaze drifted upwards to the ceiling above them, "I think it's just such a
waste - not that they've stopped or seemingly retreated or whatever it is they're doing - I just think it's a shame that that's all people will remember about them. A glorious, blazing moment of youth. And then nothing." A bronzed hand came out, tilting back and forth, "I can relate to why they might prioritize the backline, truly. There's some truth to what you say about the prospect of mortal peril being…
daunting. Since Pleuron I've been trying to advance my own understanding of why we fight," A frisson of static hops into the empty tankard in her hand, "And there's a lot you miss when you're drowning in all the flashy heroic nonsense out west. I can't tell you how much I've come to respect Muyi since the bastard revived into that horrifying tree creature."
She paused again, tapping the table rhythmically, "And now I wonder how many heroes will pop up this time around."
"Hard to say, I think there's a lot of
ambition, but whether it all pans out…" Rina frowned at that, before taking a big drag from her mug, finishing it off in one go. She closes her eyes, and thinks on it for a moment.
"In a lot of ways, what we did was a product of our times." She mused. "This isn't like the last Trials where we were taking it on the chin, and people were willing to listen to the first few people who seemed to be
doing something about it--between the strength of the cavalry unit and the informant network going up, things are mostly under control this time… There's not the same level of
pressure keeping everyone willing to play nice.."
She taps her fingers on the table, echoing across the privacy wards. "It's nice that people are trying to match what we did--but what we did was
crazy, it's not something to be aspired to or emulated--it's a fail state, and treating it like it's something to be aspired to sits wrongly with me."
"When you say it like that," Aretaphila replied ruefully, "It sounds like everything we've ever
done is a fail state." Her one open eye narrows further, "Heh, I guess that's not surprising. We're still here, but we've all fallen so
far." A brief, weighty pause, "Some of us more than others."
The waitress returns, some function of the booth informing the staff of the bar when a refill was necessary. The two older women wait patiently for their privacy once again, and the Myia scion continues, "Our Clan has an immeasurably long history, and I don't want to say we've gained more than we lost, but...There's always something new. And I sometimes wonder if that's a good or a bad thing. The knowing."
"That's the thing as far as I see it--we've fallen far, but everything that made us
strong is still there, you know?" Rina consoled. "We have unity that the other Powers only dream of possessing, while our Legionnaires are the envy of the other Sects. Oh sure, when things are peaceful and it becomes clashes between individuals, we take a drubbing--but when the chips are down and it matters most, our strength shines true--if it weren't for the handicaps we were saddled with, we would
assuredly have our own homeland and sanctuary, that none would dare intrude upon."
She picks up her new drink--apparently made from a different fruit? Who knew? And takes a sip. "It's… It's about
refinement I think. While we hold true to our principles, we learn from each calamity--we dust ourselves off, and we keep moving forward. Stronger for it. As mighty as the Old Patriarch Alexios was--you would never see him spending time to instruct the next generation--because why would he? He had a good subordinate and was strong enough to face most of the dangers around him. We had so few true experts rise under his watch or those behind him--and yet look at the Clan now? Great Era aside, the only difference between this one and so many others is that the Grand Elder has invested heavily in us--and I don't feel we've disappointed him."
She frowns though and wrinkles her nose. "Certainly, it would have driven off anyone without the gall to aim for Nascent Soul--painful and distressing as it was, anyone who got through it might have a genuine shot."
Aretaphila chuckles again, "All I know of Grand Elder Alexios is a
name, Princess." She takes a drink from the newly served flagon, "I'm sure that he had his share of stories and adventures, but they were all before I was born, and none of them were so popular once the age of Old Gold came about and his tales of endless victories against the enemies of the Clan."
She sets down the drink and glances back towards the privacy wards, "You say that the difference between now and so many past eras is that we were invested in, but the Myia
remember risen daughter of a branch house." Aretaphila's tone shifts, the melancholy and bitterness taking on something far
heavier, more
resonant, the air shifting and tingling with hints of otherworldly shapes and images.
"Our Myia sang the songs and the stories of the heroes of the Sea Conquering Army when the Callista were first branched from the
Kallistoi, and so we remember the failures hidden deep in the Elders counsel. The Turtlebone Expedition. The Swords of Night and Day. The Curse-Mountain Burial Ceremony. The Silencing of the Gates." An index finger raises, pointing first to Rina and then to its owner, "There were
lingering wills in my household that raised up to try and warn me off pursuing the Olympian Keystones. If I hadn't been half as bullheaded as I am I would've been in Foundation Establishment a century ago." An eyebrow raised itself in challenge, "Though you probably got asked to do the same tight after the Bee war, Princess."
The ringing stops, and the barely perceptible increase in the activity of the privacy wards dies down, "The Myia have a direct line to the old days, you know." Aretaphila continues, "Do you know why…" She waves a hand at her armored vest, lined with good spirit bronze. Pricey, but unexceptional, "The Myia have no Gravebronze heirlooms?"
"... I can guess" Rina's face looks like she bit into a lemon. "The Myia aren't usually in the front lines--if one falls in battle, it's usually because their entire group was wiped out--and then variant constitutions and cultivators being as greedy as they are."
She shook her head. "It's amazing what people can do when they've convinced themselves that you're little more than slightly clever monsters to be slain and pillaged at will. I hope to change that perspective at some time in the future--but it's liable to be my life's work--no matter how long I last for."
She laughs.
Oh, how Aretaphila Myia
laughs.
"Sorry, but unfortunately you couldn't be more wrong
Princess." Both eyes flare open, something deep and haunting within them, "We Myia…
I have been brought to this point because when the Myia held the prized lands around the Gate of the Blood we did not spend our lives on mere
Gravebronze. It wasn't necessary. We held a role. A duty. An
honor as the
Aquilifer of the Sea Conquering Army. Even diminished and driven to the mountains of this land, that was our pride of place." White teeth flash in the gloom of the private booth.
"When you went west, to aid the Righteous Path, you passed through it did you not? Tell me,
Princess, what did you see?"
"I saw a procession of what we once were, broken and turned to the yoke of those who tore us down and forced us into this place--a place so poor and benighted that none could be bothered to finish the job--whether they had the ability to do so or not" Rina sighed. "I… Imagine there's more to it though, given your reaction."
"The bells you silly girl," Aretaphila chuckled mirthlessly, "The
bells, did they not…?" The Myia stared into Rina's eyes, seeing no recognition in them, "No. No, I suppose not even you would have been enough for them to recognize
Princess."
The shorter girl sighed, before leaning back, "The Myia have, since we settled into the Virtuous Flipper region and raised the Obsidian Tower...Cast our dead into the bells which heralded the arrival and departure of the
Legatii. So that even in death, we could still serve as the
Aquilifer for the Legions. In the ancient times, before the Soup Chef slew the Turtle Child, the Beast Tides which came from the North were
far more vicious and mighty, reaching Spirit Severing off the bounty provided by the Emperor Turtle."
A snort, "Whether it was by the interference of the Heavens or just sheer fortune, our very last Spirit Severing Elder was slain and his body taken in by a Sect of Demonic Tunists. Saved by Iustus Myia, who stilled the air and turned it into a stalwart barrier with the power of his Physique, that same Sect was able to survive and learn from him, eventually proving able to defend himself. Unfortunately...These were still cruel times, and the Beast Tides back then were both more frequent and of greater length.
Imaginifer Iustus was caught in the Trials, still holding the Beasts at bay when the hunters came for him. A pit of snakes opening the ground from beneath his feet still not enough to stop his song until the venom brought him low."
Aretaphila paused, her face pinched at the recollection, "We honored his sacrifice after the Trials were over. Rather than give him the pride of place for his deeds by hanging him at the upper ranks of the Gate, we instead purified his body of the venom that scorched his meridians, leaving his Physique even purer and more refined than it had been in life."
She looked up, meeting Rina's eyes, "We offered the young Sect this bell. Having made the same realization that Elder Iustus had; that these
barbaroi needed him more than we did. That he could do more protecting them and showing them the way to protect themselves than to be relegated to a ceremonial place of honor."
Her voice chilled, expression became haunted, "After Demonic Soup Chef killed the land and the Beast Tides grew weaker, the descendents of those same
Barbaroi forgot the meaning of the sacrifice, and only recalled the result. Ever since, there has always been a bounty on the Clear Summer Bell's Constitution, and those Physiques which resemble it. That is why the Myia have no branches."
"They are dead. To the last. That is why the Myia were driven from our lands bordering the mountains, even though we had pride of place."
"We were hunted, even when the Clan was still recovering from the war that had seen us driven from the mountains. What you see before you is all that is left of my Clan, Rina Callista. What will replace
us when we are gone?"
The air rumbled and the sky shook, that which was unpleasing had emerged, and was found foul in the eyes of the [World-Lord]
Regardless of that sensation though, Rina's expression hardened, and she set her drink down. Eyes closed, and the
pressure slowly receded.
"Forgive me for that lapse in control" Rina whispered. "That was… Not the sort of thing I wanted to hear--I cannot say I had any encounters with that Sect in my time in the Great Battlefield, but…"
She exhaled, and steadied herself. "Such behaviour is… Not appropriate. There is war and there is
blasphemy, and the latter cannot be left unpunished--though if the Noble Devil Alliance is any indication, such justice isn't something that can be meted out immediately--for that sect has found itself besieged but not yet destroyed despite being isolated and behind enemy lines.
She calms herself, and opens her eyes. "Apologies, I should have informed myself more before my trip there."
"It's not something we advertise," Aretaphila replied sheepishly, "And...For all the history that the Callista have, your family is still what it is. We're all, ultimately, throwbacks to our past scrabbling to make something more of ourselves. Enduring the indignities the world puts upon us."
"I'm sure that once, our ancestors thought we would bring this Turtle-World into a better, more just place. That they'd be able to do with strength and will the impossible; to yoke the unjust heaven and earth to the plow. But I think something that everyone must learn, those mortal and not, is that sometimes reality doesn't live up to what you had hoped it would be."
She lets out a dry chuckle, "It almost makes me wonder how many times the Old Man has experienced that for himself by now."
"Hard to say," Rina admits after a moment's thought. "We don't exactly get a good look into how he thinks--most of everything we can think is all speculation…" She trails off there, and considers the first stage of the lectures.
"But… I don't think someone who took the time to figure out how to measure one's absolute physical limits can be called someone who didn't do literally the best he possibly could."
"It's honestly scary, thinking about how someone like the Old Man got into Nascent Soul." Aretaphila replies, taking another drink before continuing, "You know he 'was the personal disciple of Grand Elder Alexios' but the man doesn't really exude the kind of...raw physical strength we associate with our Paragons." A finger points across the table, "You,
absolutely, but there's a kind of straight-backed dignity we associate with our best."
Aretaphila pauses, glancing down at the pitch within her cup, "He seems more like me, if I'm honest. Someone who's suffered, defined himself by it, and gotten to where he was by pure stubbornness and nothing else. As strange as it is to say that someone can reach Nascent Soul through pure stubbornness, it seems like that's the only type of person who
could in a way."
A sky-blue eye meets Rina's own, "Your Callista family have been closer to being in the Old Man's confidence than anyone outside the Sarantapechos since he became Grand Elder I think. Any stories to tell?"
Rina winced at that. "Ah… That's… Hrm…" She bit her lip. "He's… Famously private with anyone outside of his direct circle of advisors, and Aikaterine didn't exactly last long enough in her position for that to change--she did mention though that he can be a little mischievous from time to time? Something about a three-legged stool?" She shook her head. "The only real interaction I had with him was shortly after my Tribulation--apparently Jingshen had some observers nearby that he ended up having to deter in the aftermath, and he gave me some advice afterwards."
She taps the table in thought. "If it wasn't for that advice, I don't think I would have dealt with the attack in Sha Yu City as well as I did--he advised me prepare a technique invested with my Dao as a last-ditch defensive effort--and it was enough to ward off at least a casual strike, which bought the time for reinforcements to drive him off… But yeah, aside from that, he's largely a mystery."
Aretaphila frowned at that, "I feel like I want to take issue at losing out on some good gossiping material, but I guess him being secretive is his whole…
thing." A sound like chiming filled the booth as the shorter girl exhaled something between a sigh and a metallic raspberry, "Well, I can hardly complain about whatever he's doing being successful. Still, a person's stories are their legacy, and it's silly for him to throw away that legacy like this."
A thoughtful finger taps against the rim of her mug, nearly empty, "Speaking of your departed aunt, any interesting stories to share while you're here?" Aretaphila asks, her lips twisting almost hungrily into a smirk.
"Uh…" Rina thought about that for a moment. She thought
really hard on it, and shook her head. "I'm… Uh… This… Ummm." She flushed slightly pink. "I… Don't… Really get in on the gossip stuff, really…"
She had no idea what would even qualify if she did! She spent so long mostly being a princess in a tower and then she was just so
busy all the time!
"Well, looks like I get to put my time in taverns to good use!" Aretaphila cried out, draining the last of the mug and awaiting the return of the waitress for refills, gathering her thoughts in the meantime.
"Did you know that Elder Zimisce had a breakthrough recently, coming to scrape the very edges of the Great Circle of Core Formation?" Aretaphila asked rhetorically, snapping her fingers with a sharp ring as their privacy returned, "There haven't been any confirmations on the cause, but apparently it was a fortuitous encounter deep within the Great Open Cut Spirit Mine. There were rumors almost a century ago, about a new vein having been uncovered in the old pit, but that it was haunted by the resentful spirits of the Clan's great enemies having congealed into the Turtle Child's blood and cursing us for the temerity of refusing to die"
"The story goes that due to the disaster during the last set of trials, and the ongoing demands of dealing with the Cannibals, no Core Formation Elders could be dispatched to the mine in order to investigate. And this gave the vein time to fester with the malice hidden deep within, becoming a minor Ghost Vein of considerable power. With the Clan's leadership based out East to man the border, the only Elder able to make the trip and investigate was Elder Zimisce herself, one of the Clan's few Late Core Formations and the only one who's duties regularly took them back to the Dawn Fortress to handle our supply lines and the heart of the Contribution Board."
"By that time, it was rumored that the Ghost Vein was spilling out and numerous malevolent spirits overrode the skeleton garrison around the Mine, and before the problem could spread out to the vital arteries of the Clan's supply chain she resolved to handle it herself, descending into the pit alone."
Aretaphila paused, drinking deeply, "For three days and nights she was in the pits, and there was much wailing and gnashing and screams from those who say they saw it themselves. But at the end of it all, the Ghost Vein was purged, and Elder Zimisce arose from the Great Open Cut Spirit Mine in the Great Circle of Core Formation, having gained a century's worth of cultivation in mere days. Stories from there vary as no one
truly knows how it came about; She struck down the ghosts, who had taken possession of a Supreme Spirit Stone and used that to anchor themselves to this plane. She used her Dao of Peace to bring the restless dead to final peace, and in gratitude for her service they imparted the remaining dregs of their cultivation onto her. That there were never really any ghosts at all, it was all an elaborate ruse for the Elder to meet with her lover and engage in Dual Cultivation, making incredible progress in three passionate nights."
The shorter girl smirked salaciously, "Pretty crazy, right?"
Rina stared, expression going more and more blank as the tale went on, starting with a grand display of confusion and ending with an expression one step on the road to transcendence and the other step a downward spiral into the abyss, with no possible hope or prayer to escape.
"I… Uh…" Rina sputtered, as her imagination creaked and groaned at being put to use in ways it had never been forced to go--rusted gears and sparking mechanisms slowly, surely grinding to life with debris flying all over the place.
"S… om..ethi...ng…" She slowly drags out--reaches for her drink, and downs it in a single gulp.
She slams it down onto the table, and exhales, closing her eyes and drawing out her utmost power--her eyes snap open, and she speaks.
"Did you know how the Strength Purity Sect got into the habit of giving themselves those goofy-ass names?"
Aretaphila blinks, "I always just assumed they pulled them out of a silly hat after they engaged in an even more silly song during some sort of secret ceremony."
"There's a long and dramatic story about it, echoing back from the days of the Old Wei Empire!" Rina began, her voice taking on the
cadence of a storyteller. "For it was in those days that the First Wei Princess fled from the treachery of the Bloody Prince, spirited away from the old capital with the secret archives in tow! They spoke with many of the great Sects and Clans of the day, seeking aid and support--but all inevitably thought the Bloody Prince's rampage would eventually be sated, and saw fit instead to look to their own devices. After all, who would follow a gloomy, poorly trained princess to war against the forces of Darkness themselves?"
She rolled the words around for a moment, and loomed forward. "Frankly, she had no bloody idea what she was doing anyway, she was
way in the back of the line of succession and basically only avoided harm because she was too busy playing hooky in the big ceremony that the rampage started on and got missed. But hey, you know how big a deal face is. So she pulled back, stared at the Demonic Altar Sect getting their whole routine started, and she was all "You know what? This isn't working, let's do something completely different." So she went on a five year bender, grabbing all the liquor she could find and dove right into the archives, blackout drunk so she didn't have to think too hard about it. She blinked awake a few years later with the First Altar Lord's head in her hands, standing strong in Nascent Soul, and with followers all around her giving praise to the Princess Strength Purity. What's she even supposed to do with that? Does that give her a comfy palace back? Is she just supposed to be some kind of thug or something? But somehow, someway, it all worked out. So she screams a little bit in her head, puts on a big smile, and says some kind of stupid bullshit that sounds profound--and wouldn't you know it? Now she's got a big pile of followers, an archive that's been rewritten into the most powerful legacies outside the Army's within the Region, and somehow they think you have to reinvent yourselves and give yourselves a grand new name representing your prowess at a certain point--and by the time anyone's told the
truth you've already got it, and like
hell are you going to back down on what people are going to
call you, do you?"
She stares, eyes bloodshot and sweat on her brow--but hey, that was a
kind of rumor, wasn't it?
"That's… I guess that's it?"
Aretaphila chuckles, then starts laughing uproariously, slapping the table before draining her own third cup in a single, cheerful gulp. A melodious sound, filled with mirth and joy and
life rings with it, and the privacy arrays of their booth brighten and strain with the effort of keeping the sound in.
The Myia doubles over laughing, pounding the table at the sheer...sheer
silliness and relatability of it all. "O-of
course it would be like that!" Aretaphila wheezes, picturing it all, "I'd...I'd always assumed that there was
some reason for those stories of ridiculously buff men who took the name of "Princess Wei Jade Beauty" or "Princess Wei Lustrous Hair" or "Princess Wei're Worth It". That the whole affair actually
meant something, and it wasn't just some silly tradition those-those
utter nerds kept as a type of hazing because it was already too late to change the tradition without losing face!"
She keeps laughing, even as the waitress returns and is met with three outstretched fingers, "That's...That's genuinely
perfect Princess. If you do wind up getting hitched to one of them, I demand you give me an invite so I can better help you fit in after the ceremony!"
"Uh…." Rina trailed off at that. "It's… Uh, it's still in limbo, mostly, because of the war and all, it's probably not in the cards anytime soon thanks to it."
She puts her face down on the table. "But noo… I'm too self-conscious! I'd never be able to carry something silly like that!"
"Princess Wei of the Perfect Tan" Aretaphila responds, "Elder ShiningHair," She begins ticking fingers off, "Elder Golden Devil-of-Seduction." The Myia keeps smirking, "There's just
so many possibilities. Imagine having to play off actually being a member of the Clan, and instead claiming that your bronze skin is really the result of an exhaustive sunbathing regimen." She leans back up, affecting a dignified manner before continuing, "The Dao of the World-Lord exists because I had realized that the world as it was could never meet the demands I put upon it, thus I will make a new one where my beauty can finally be brought out to its full potential."
A vicious smirk blooms, "So, what do you think? Think I might be able to manage to snag a good Strength Purity man with that?"
There were no words to describe the noise that emerged from Rina's mouth, it was halfway between a whine, a deathrattle, and a scream for help. She had been defeated, utterly and without mercy.
Aretaphila chuckles at the slain Hope of the Clan before her, miserably spread before her with the power of a bit of teasing.
Honestly, she thought with some bitterness,
the hells are we doing, trying to put everything on this poor girl?
The drinks arrived, and as Aretaphila took another sip the mirth from before dimmed down. A second sip, bringing melancholy with it.
"Sometimes I wonder what the Old Man is thinking, Princess." Aretaphila murmured, the sound carrying to Rina's ears and hers alone.
Rina raises her head at that,
thankful that the conversation is going another way. "He's gambling, I think." She responds. "We're playing a rigged game, and if we play it safe, we're inevitably going to find ourselves cornered--we saw a piece of it in the War--the incident he spoke of. For a Nascent Soul to go to headhunt a Foundation Establishment junior that they had no contact with? Even with the nonsense he spoke of, that's not enough of an excuse--what happens if we just build up strength bit by bit--and then something like this happens to take it away from us?"
She shakes her head. "Can't be risked, and we definitely can't risk putting all of our pieces in one place either--so I think he's playing a gamble, to spread things out and test greater numbers of disciples in case we end up in a dead end--playing up this Great Era to the hilt. But there's no graceful way to do that."
Aretaphila closes one eye, narrowing the other as her fingers drum the table, "I heard an interesting rumor a few decades ago." She took a deep breath, "When we were still just starting out cultivation, right after Old Gold had ascended to Mid Nascent Soul...He encountered Corpse Gulper for the first time. You know the story, right? Cut off his leg. Left a toe to Xuan or Xin Kingdom, I think, and kept the rest."
"Do you know what happened to it?" Aretaphila asked Rina seriously.
"I think one of his eyes was used as the primary focusing device of the Night Devil Fortress?" Rina mused. "More still was used to refine Blood Masking Pills, and his Immortal Aperture was used to create a number of Spatial Rings… But if we're talking about the disbursal of the
entire body? Your guess is as good as mine"
The Myia smiles wryly, "I don't need to guess."
Oh yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah babe, Ju-Shui Yú's voice rings out from the depths of memory,
'Course I don't gotta eat and run while chasing ya! Would be pretty weird for a workout, ya see! There's these arrays spread throughout all our territory, set up by Ol' Cannibal, where blood gets stored to use to feed us strong guys without having to depopulate a city every time we get a late night craving, ya dig? See this? Wouldn't believe it's a piece of Corpse Gulper's pinkie finger, ya know? Keyed to all those fancy arrays spread throughout our territory! Damn fine piece of work, lemme tell ya! Let's me come out here and finish my business with ya before Corpse Gulper gets put six feet under, so it's not like he needs it anymore!
"What you're saying is true...For
after Corpse Gulper was killed. But, and I didn't hear about this rumor until a few years ago...But apparently the Old Man had a skeleton key to the Blood Arrays scattered throughout Cannibal territory. There'd been plans drawn up to take advantage of access to them before the previous Trials. Core Formations under the previous
Parakoimomenos were to infiltrate Cannibal Territory and sabotage their stores of Blood Qi and force them to starve utterly after the culling that Corpse Gulper was theorized to have subjected core Cannibal territories to during his attempted coup."
Aretaphila frowned, "There wasn't a need for such a huge gamble with the previous Trials, Princess. Apparently, the Old Man had the Battle Blood Cannibals dead to rights from the very start. So badly, in fact, that even as badly weakened as we were, even without the advantages we
should have had against them...They never stood a chance."
The final Myia scion looked into Rina's eyes, "Can you tell me sincerely that that gamble was needed?"
Rina blows a strand of hair out from in front of her eyes. "Well, that depends on how you look at the matter." She taps the table a time or two, then straightens up, crossing her arms in front of her. "From the perspective of crushing the Battle Blood Cannibal Sect, it was absolutely a poor decision to gamble and lose like we did there. But I don't think that was the logic he was focused on there."
She bites her lower lip, and then steadies herself, nodding. "Much of our history is a history of decline--but not just from the ebb and flow imposed by the Trials and enemy action, but a loss of legacies and history as we're forced away from something important and never get a chance to recover it. We may survive--we may even
heal somewhat from it, but we're always lessened. We lost the secrets of Silverine Arrays when we were forced from the mountains, and thus can no longer arm our best and brightest with fortress-level warding schemes in battle. We lost much of the strength of the Blood to blunt the worst of the Trials and our Curses. What the Old Man had was an opportunity to begin clawing back a measure of power and legacy for the Clan--at the risk of inviting our doom and failing to suppress the Battle Blood Cannibal Sect. And I've
seen the results of his gamble in the Song Empire Campaign--it used to be that our Legionnaires were the jokes of the Region except when able to operate in tandem, but over the course of my time there, I kept hearing stories about how our juniors were giving as good as they were getting for the first time in history, because everyone could be
guaranteed at least one good battle skill beyond the fundamentals that we preserved. More importantly, this is a legacy we can continue to build on--how influential will that be when we can restore the Foundation Establishment levels? The Core Formation levels? It's more than just numbers and wealth--but a fundamental enhancement to the Clan's strength--and thus, ability to hold against all comers. Sure, he could have gambled on fully mitigating the trials--but I can't help but feel that the events that unfolded
anyway would have still been devastating if he did. Presuming we don't experience a repeat of that in the days to come--and from what I'm hearing on the Boards, there's a number of new initiatives in place to reduce our losses this time. Risky as it was, it seems to have worked out for the best."
I'm sorry, The words, her own haggard voice,
But I can't teach you. There's no way I could provide you what you need to be a Cultivator. It's for the best.
-I'm sorry, I know what's happened to you is my fault. But that's why I'm taking responsibility for you two here and now. It's for the best.-
-There may have been things I could have done in the South, during the War you know? But I'm just a Qi Condensation cultivator. I wouldn't have made such a huge difference, and if I had gone then who would be escorting this caravan? It's for the best.-
-I have to keep fighting. Keep singing. Can't speak. Gotta focus. Everyone's counting on me to keep them going until the poison's ready. All this pain isn't anything I haven't dealt with before. I can do this. It's for the best.-
"For…" Aretaphila inhales deeply, a frission of static building up across her flesh, "The best, you say?"
-Helpless to fight alongside her fellow cultivators as Blood Path raid their caravan during the Cannibal War. But Jin Muyi is present, biding his time. Just save the outriders, even if that's all I can do it's for the best-
-A village of eternal victims, huddled together in fear of her bronze skin and the weight of her Qi. Kowtowing and begging to spare their lives. Aretaphila has no idea how to handle them, for those poor mortals recoil at her very touch. Flinch in the face of her attempts at kindness. She pulls back. It's for the best.-
-She can handle whatever pain Old Gold inflicts on her. It's for the best.-
"What…" Her fingers groan as they clench ever more strongly at the table between them, "About all that we suffered is for the best,
exactly?"
"The fact that
we don't get a choice in the matter" Rina fires back. "We suffer in training and we suffer fighting, because if we don't, we're simply letting others do what they will--and there's an
incredible spectrum of how bad things can get if someone doesn't stop them." She scowls and remembers.
"Bodies melted down by poisons and reforged into mutant warbeasts, souls torn out and turned into weapons to use to score a few more kills, entire cities sucked dry to power a Blood Path rampage. Sure, we can just take it easy--sit tight and count on our elders to do the heavy lifting for us… But what happens when they fail? Are we supposed to just curl up and die?"
She shakes her head. "No--I admit that 'For the best' might not be the best way of describing it. But as long as the Heavens insist on grinding their boot down on us for the crimes of those who lived back
literally in time immemorial, it's going to keep happening--the Trials will continue, our curses will continue, and everyone around us will continue to think of us as acceptable targets. It's not a problem that'll go away otherwise--and that means we need power. Those of us who have a measure of talent have that much more responsibility to carry as much weight as we can… Oh sure, if I had just gone straight into Foundation Establishment after the last set of Trials, maybe I'd be clawing on the Great Circle by now and making my preparations to enter Core Formation--but it meant I'd have 'Merely' been an ordinary Core Formation. I have the potential to walk the Unorthodox Path--and in doing so I seek the power to
Force this twisted world to terms. That won't happen if I simply settle for
good enough. And so I attend these lectures, I continue pushing my cultivation to the limit, and I don't let what's thrown in my way change my path."
"Isn't the point of the path that we walk," Aretaphila squeezed out from clenched teeth, "To be
better? The lives we offer up in tribute in the name of advancement, the suffering and death we gamble like coin, how does it make us any different from the hypocrisy I remember you railing against so strongly in the past?"
Her eyes both open, fingers drawing furrows into the enhanced wood beneath them, "To take responsibility for ourselves is one thing, and a simple enough one at that. But what of the villages and towns that lay vulnerable because we lacked the Legates to organize and carry out our
obligations towards our charges? What of the Foundation Establishment bandit that killed a town while you watched, Princess? Do you
truly have the right to use your own power as justification for the lives you gamble with to lay claim to it?"
Rina sighed. "What would you have me do then Aretaphila?" She leaned back on her seat. "If we fail, they all die anyway, if we're too weak--the Trials break us, or one of our enemies break us, and then the people we protect are at the mercy of those who broke us. I
want to be better--and I strive to do everything in my power to do so. But I can only be in one place at a time--and if a greater monster decides to start rampaging around, I can't even do more than just
survive. The
entire world wants us dead, down to the natural laws that run it. As long as that remains the truth, virtue
alone is never going to help us accomplish our duty to protect. So if virtue alone won't work, we must seek power to
enforce it."
Aretaphila's mouth twisted into a snarl, "That's the answer, then? Power for power's sake? So we ought to embrace the prerogative of the cruel strong if we wish to be anything more first? Tell me,
Princess, is principle the luxury of the powerful? For what reason does that better world of yours exist if all you know to do is compromise? Is suffering merely some
transaction from your perspective? All must pay a price for power, some just pay more so that others may have the power? What a face this is, from the so-called
Bronze Paragon." The shorter girl drinks deeply, before slamming an empty flagon to the table.
"I'm not saying there's some simple, imaginary
binary of success or failure!" A finger leveled itself towards the Castilla girl, "Simply that the lives of our charges, our
selves should surely not be so easily spent when other,
gentler ways exist to achieve the same ends! If we had struck down the Cannibals without earning the ire of heaven, there would have never been a need to draw forth the Xuan Clan, and put the Xin at risk both from the Cannibals and from their expansionist neighbors! If the Blood-Gathering Arrays had been dismantled, the Cannibals would have never been able to afford to build up for a proper war, and would have disintegrated easily in the face of a concentrated invasion spearheaded by our own Elders."
Aretaphila took on an anguished look, "There's
always a better way, Rina Callista. If only you take the time to look!"
Weight
The air grew heavy upon Aretaphila's shoulders, the sky shaking as though the heavens were to collapse, force enough on her back to bring her to her knees--to her stomach in supplication at what stood before her.
Rinas expression was hard.
"The pain is not the
Point" she snarled. "It is the
symptom, the fact that this world we live in is so broken that villains are rewarded for butchery and
thousands of years of good behaviour are as dust before some crime so far before recorded history that even an immortal would be bones. It is the fact that any extended hand is an invitation for the wicked to cut it off--that the greed of cultivators be forever unchecked and that the slightest
excuse is enough to bring genocide. Have you not seen it? Though our plight is the worst by far, how many have died because the Blood Path hungers for power? How productive is peace with their adherents when all they need to do is butcher the innocent and be rewarded for it. How terrible are the stars that they see this and
remove all paths for them to step away from that dark path?"
She loomed forward, eyes burning like suns as the
Weight redoubled. "Tell me then, your 'Gentle' ways. How well do they suit us, hmm? Suppose we do not find ourselves broken and bleeding somehow--that the Keybearer simply doesn't arrive out of recognition of our virtuous behaviour, and that our Elders do not find themselves butchered by a single lunatic who could violate the rules of the Trial. Because we are being
safe and protective, we are magically not punished from something far outside our control. Let's go with that. Do you truly think for an
instant that everything would still unfold in the precise fashion they did? That we somehow break the Battle Blood Cannibal Sect and Sun Diaxiang decides to fight us anyway in his crippled condition? Let's say all of that happens anyway, just for the sake of this discussion.
What stops the Jingshen from striking at us in our moment of distraction? It was our
very weakness that made them stay their hand in this war! That they could simply sit tight and watch the two demon empires beat each other to death and take advantage of the aftermath to move? If we were that strong, do you
truly believe they wouldn't have attacked us while the Old Man was busy with Diaxiang?!?"
She clenched her fists, and Aretaphila's bones began to shake in her skin. "Every action has a reaction, every player on the board has an agenda--we can look back and say that 'Maybe things would have been better!' But the weave of fate is always being spun out! To say that the previous status quo will surely be better? The previous status quo was
dying by inches--would you say it would be better for us to decay to nothing until one of our foes
finally gets lucky and defeats the
Archgetes? How well do you think those people you're saying would be 'Better off' after that? With the only deterrence from the warring demigods gone? Is it better than to suffer from constant, dragging agony for centuries until something puts you out of your misery? Or to a sharp pain for a moment to open a path to healing? To be
able to tell those beasts and
barbaroi No for a change? To stand up and be healed! To not simply leave broken bones and shattered organs alone because hurting is virtuous?!?"
A chime begins ringing out as Aretaphila's very bones
vibrate under the dominion of the [World-Lord]. A refusal to bow. To
kneel. A chime becomes a coherent
note crisp and raw with defiance, pushing against the pressure brought to bear against the 12th Heavenstage Cultivator.
"Such callousness…" The shorter,
weaker Cultivator ground out, "Doesn't save
anyone." Privacy arrays flare with strain, where Rina's Dao Emanations had been a tight, targeted thing; the resistance to them was anything but. Erratic. Forceful, "If we do not look at what ought
not be, then how are we ever supposed to determine what
should? Hurt is hurt, Rina Callista, suffering is suffering! It is never
right to welcome it just because it serves a greater end!"
Aretaphila's teeth grit, the chiming within her flickering against the air. A wisp of an illusion forming at her back, almost hammer-like in shape, "It's not better to calculate endlessly where the wound lies and to spread the suffering like you would butter upon bread! You take
on the burden, so that the helpless weak need not suffer on your behalf! Virtue is the strong back carrying the helpless! Not the craven choosing who lives and who dies like a housewife sizing up choice cuts of meat at market!"
"And how well did that go for Iustus?" Rina's words lashed out.
"You
dare?" The Myia scion hissed.
"In a
heartbeat" Rina snapped. "I won't let someone like you descend into this bullshit self-martyr complex because she had a bad run of luck. You're
better than that--and until you acknowledge that, you'll never push past that final threshold."
"Final threshold?" Aretaphila growled back, "I'm doing
just fine getting to the 13th Heavenstage,
Princess. Not everyone can proceed down the paths of Cultivation as quickly as you can. My luck's been bad, but so what? Millions of people go through worse in our lands alone, you've seen far worse even! I don't
have an
anything complex!"
"Yet you're speaking fantasies to me, like how everything would be fine if we lay down and let the world beat us to death--like somehow things were better when we were weak, and that everything is only bad because we have the gall to
try to change our fate" Rina crossed her arms before her. "You're focused on the
pain like it's all that matters in life, that as long as
the right people are hurting things are good. That as long as it's people like
you who suffer for everyone else's sake, that everyone else will be safe.
With that, Rina withdraws her aura, and sighs.
"We… We have to do the best we can, and we have to protect
ourselves too. The pain exists but it's not the
point, because if we fall--who's going to take
our place?"
Aretaphila takes the words like a hammerblow, face stricken as the Dao emanations from Rina cut off. She falls back into her seat, expression filled with anguish.
"We...we're the only ones, aren't we." She mumbled.
"We're the only ones that care enough to try and change things for the better." Aretaphila looks back up, "Tell me something." She takes a deep, deep breath, before exhaling it, "If the Blood Path vanished from the world tomorrow, would the Strength Purity Sect still care so much about their mortal charges?"
"To be honest? It's too hard to say. This generation? Yeah, I think so. The one afterwards though? As kings of the Region?" She shrugs. "The world doesn't
care for ordinary people."
"Only us, huh." Aretaphila muttered, "Only us."
There is a brief silence between the two. The Myia scion staring deeply into her hands, head bowed. Contemplating.
"I suppose that…" Aretaphila began again, "The Old Man doesn't nearly have as much control over his circumstances as he likes to pretend, does he."
"If he did, I'm pretty sure there'd be no need for what he taught us" Rina mused. "You don't need to teach juniors how to resist a Nascent Soul's attack if you can just block it yourself." She settles back against her seat in earnest, arms flopping back to the side.
"We allow suffering because we lack the strength to prevent it, huh." The Myia scion mused, "Cruelty and trials are tempering of the Dao, but who decided that? It isn't necessary. So many are fortunate and become mighty without ever having to truly suffer or struggle. So who decided that people ought to suffer, do you think?"
|If I knew that, I wouldn't be here in a branch franchise of a yearmate drinking cider now, would I?" Rina joked. "It doesn't make sense--there should be ways to the top that don't involve making yourself stronger and tougher and more fierce--but even people on a Dao of Peace invariably find themselves gaining strength in battle as a side effect of their existence. And yet…"
She taps her fingers against the booth, and considers something.
"Kinslaughterer said something, when he was about to attack" She began. "That the Single Pillar Path is the one walked by the Soup Chef, that doing so without practicing his Dao was blasphemy of some kind--enough so that he was evidently willing to defy the Altar Lord to snuff it out. It seems there's something to that--to the Extreme Unorthodox Realm--I think it touches on something beyond Heaven's power, deeper than it. I don't know if the Emperor's Pillar in Foundation Establishment is similar--but if one of our own experts can touch it, we might learn something in the comparison."
The shorter girl smirked, grabbing the third tankard and draining it, "Well." She turned a cyclopean gaze upon her companion once again, "I'm glad that I'm pursuing this path then. If either of us find out the truth, it sure would be nice to punch whatever waits on the other side of the Heavens in the face for what we've had to be put through, don't you think?" Aretaphila raised a fist towards the other girl, her smirk returned.
"Hah" Rina smiled, and raised her own fist in return. "We've still got a long ways to go before getting to that point, but at least we know we're on the right track, right?"
The two fists bump in solidarity.
"We sure do, besides," Aretaphila's smirk grew, "There's something weirdly appropriate about pissing off both the Heavens
and those Blood Path bastards as we try to fix up their messes don't you think? It's a path to take pride in, and if we walk it right we just might manage to find a way to pull it off too."
"If they didn't want to be opposed, they shouldn't have been as awful as they are, right?" Rina grinned, and pulled herself up to her feet. "Right then, I have to get back to my own regime--oh! Make sure you keep a good reserve of stones for when you breakthrough, the pillar leakage is the
worst thing to deal with you don't even know!" She shook her head, stepped aside, and made her way out. "Good luck in the Trials!"
Aretaphila waved the other woman out, still remaining seated as she looked upon her final drink with a small smile.
"I can't exactly do it the easy way, little Miss. So I'll be taking that body of yours in the best condition!"
"And what ingredient is that, Senior?" Ju-Shui Yú grins knowingly at her, "Well...It's you, babe."
"Sure is weird, to feel nostalgic for the worst moments of your life." She said to herself, "Guess I owe the Princess one after all." The Myia took another long swig, decision made.
"It's not about suffering. It's about carrying on in spite of it, to make something better. Because the suffering never ends." Her Qi-Ocean churned, actinic light playing across it from within her, "It's not about my suffering either. It's the fight to get past it, isn't it?"
The words carried confidence. Power. The cusp of realization.
A hundred years ago she had sang herself to exhaustion. Aretaphila had stood, so that others could defy the heavens.
Now, it was time for her to stand on her own. Not look upon the struggles of the Clan from behind, pushing them forward. But amongst them. To see the horrors and the suffering once again. Not with fear.
But with defiance in her heart, and a Heaven Shaking Song upon her lips.
