Gaius Antonius Omake #61: Century
"It receded again…"
Gaius gazed into his washroom mirror, inspecting his features in light of this new revelation. After having been entirely untouched by the ravages of time since he turned twenty-five, Gaius' body had finally begun to give way. A few lines here and there, where there hadn't been before. His hairline creeping higher up his head by a millimeter per year. These weren't the kind of changes others would take note of - none were big enough - but Gaius knew his own body intimately.
At the age of 99 years with his hundredth just weeks away, Gaius was forced to concede that he really was getting older. Old age was no threat to him as of yet, of course - he would reach Foundation Building long before such things could come into play, at which point the apportioned length of his life would swell to a length of five centuries. With enough effort and treasure, it could even be pushed further. And people like him didn't stall in Foundation anyway.
No, this wasn't about the fear of death, it was about the fear of time. Irrevocable proof of the passage of time, that his life was a real thing with real consequences. Not that he could ever admit such a thing out loud.
"-s? Gaius? Gaius!" A familiar voice broke through the haze around him, and Gaius reacted somewhat like a startled rabbit, leaping to his feet in surprise and walking back into the bathtub. He pitched backwards on his feet, falling in with a painful thud.
Axia, dressed in the sort of simple cloth underclothes one wore under armor, let out a soft, high-pitched laugh that didn't fit her somewhat harsh and warlike face. "It's been a while since I've seen you that distracted."
Gaius, with his hair unkempt and clad as he was in little more than a dirty towel(he probably should have had a Junior do the laundry yesterday), stood in sharp contrast to his put-together fiance. "Y-you're back from the Great Battlefield already?" Gaius stammered, climbing gingerly out of the tub and trying to preserve what little remained of his dignity. "I'm sorry about that; I thought I would be alone for a while longer."
Axia Quintia, the mighty Young Patrician, scion of the Quintia family, had yet again acquitted herself admirably in combat at the Great Battlefield. A five-year tour at that place was a typical thing for talented and powerful young Devils. It was in their best interest to prolong the war as long as possible, so when the Righteous Powers were losing, Legionnaires and Centurions would go there to cut their teeth and train their arts in warfare, keeping themselves razor-sharp. Then when the tide turned in favor of the Righteous Powers, those same soldiers would go home, having done the job they set out to do.
Axia in particular had done this several times, spilling Demonic Altar and Gao Clan blood as she endlessly refined her spear arts. It didn't particularly matter to her that none of the battles were toward any concrete goal - she was the type to be enamored with improvement for its own sake. Besides, making a good showing of herself in battle would only increase the reputation of her vaunted family, and there was never too much of that to be had.
"That's correct. My presence is no longer required." Something about the way Axia said those words carried a slight hint of bitterness. The meaning was obvious; she wished that she was important enough, that her presence on the battlefield was valuable enough, to not be spoken of in such a dismissive way. It wasn't the idea she disliked so much as the tone.
Not wishing to broach the topic of 'you're waiting at least a decade longer to become a Centurion because of me', Gaius contented himself to scurry into the bedroom and throw on some proper - if casual - clothes. "I'm surprised you made it back this soon." He remarked, cinching his belt to hold a set of simple green and grey robes together. "The conflict in Red Star Valley hasn't been resolved yet, right?"
"A resounding Strength Purity victory there would be problematic. Too much risk of Demonic Altar's South-Eastern Front collapsing." Axia explained, voice dry and clinical. "What we would like is for them to have a costly victory - stop the Altar advance, but advance no further themselves."
"Long-term military strategy is a terrifying thing…" Gaius mused in response, before smirking at his fiance. "But I can't help but feel a little disappointed. I thought you'd say 'Gaius, my beloved, can't you see I came home for your hundredth birthday?'."
"Are you a baby? Are you so childish you can't feel my affection from across the region, hm?" Axia joked back, pinching Gaius' cheek(hard to do against a thin face like his, but she had strong fingers). "To a Devil, the greatest birthday gift is to miss a birthday, because you're too busy defending the Clan."
"You're so mean to me! You're killing me, Axia!" Gaius mock-despaired, twirling on one foot and falling flat on his back on the bed.
The Quintia scion sighed, stroking Gaius hair. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this right now. I have to get through a mountain of paperwork, and then I'll barely have enough time for my cycling routine." A guilty look briefly flashed across her face.
"You have to get back to work right away?" Gaius questioned. "You only lead a squad; how could the combat reports be so extensive?"
"Commanding Legionnaires in wartime isn't like doing it on a mission. You have to evaluate the performance of each soldier and pass that information up to their Centurion." As if to emphasize this point, Axia retrieved a heavy stack of papers from a compression pouch at her him and let them thud noisily onto her desk.
"Well, I'll leave you to that. I'm glad you're doing well." Gaius finally said after a moment of contemplation. It would do no good to complicate a busy day further with unnecessary conversations. He leaned in to kiss his fiance, then turned to leave.
It was odd, Gaius thought, how little he saw the woman who would be his wife.
Perhaps that was a little bit unfair. They both took missions often, after all. Axia preferred to lead squads while Gaius preferred to work alone, so obviously they wouldn't see each other during such times. And of course, schedules didn't always line up - even if one of them was home, the other might not be.
Turning back, he slipped his hand into Axia's, not sure what to say but wanting to say something. "I feel lonely." He blurted out without thinking. Immediately, Gaius felt stupid; what nonsense was that? Cultivation makes you lonelier and lonelier the more time passes, what use was complaining about it?
"Then take some squad missions." His fiance said plainly, pulling away from him and taking her seat at the desk. "You desperately need more training in military tactics anyway. You'll be getting your own Legion as a King, remember?" She summoned a pen to her hand and wagged it in a chiding motion.
Training. Tactics. The cold steel of regiment and procedure. It certainly lacked emotional comfort, but rigorous discipline was the way of the Golden Devils. That might help tear out this bit of weakness that had been stirring in The Seeker's belly as of late.
"You're right as usual, dear…" Gaius sighed, getting up and leaving the Young Patrician to her administrative duties. She no doubt had attained a glut of resources and would use them to continue her push toward the Twelfth Heavenstage. In Gaius' own experience, it was like swimming through mud. He definitely shouldn't bother Axia for the next week - the sooner she got her other duties done, the sooner she could continue her progress.
——
As Gaius navigated his way across the Dawn Fortress, a rare pang of loneliness struck him. He was the kind of person who handled solitude well, so it was a strange feeling. Unsure of how to address it, he lit a cigarette to distract himself and continued on his way.
To the west, past the bathhouse, past the checkpoint, up the stairs, and there he was, back in the Technique Palace. The deceptively ordinary library buzzed in his spiritual sense, seemingly endless teeming masses of… he wasn't sure what to call them. Micro-spirits? Half-constructs? Things too small for most eyes to see filled the air, scanning the minds of those within to recommend them where to go.
This place was of limited use to him at the moment - all of his support techniques were already of the highest quality this place could provide him. His movement, his self-hardening, his sword-honing, his grappling, his jumping - all of it was supported by the kinds of techniques that didn't win battles on their own, and all of those techniques were rated for the Tenth, Eleventh or Twelfth Heavenstage. Gaius did want to pick up a few new tricks when he had the chance, but that wasn't the reason for his visit.
Making his way across the smooth stone floor with long strides, Gaius approached a squat box of thick black stone. The inside was a 5'x5'x6' cube, intended for meditation and cultivation. Punching in a code, Gaius paid one Contribution Point to purchase two hours in the box. With a quietness that belied its weight, the front panel ground into the floor, allowing him to step inside. He did so, bending down to fit inside and lowering himself into a meditative pose. The panel shut itself behind him after he entered.
"Much better." Gaius muttered with a sigh of relief. These boxes were a ripoff for lesser Qi Condensation Clansmen, but two hours of Gaius' time was worth far more than that of someone in the Ninth Heavenstage. To calm himself in this serene silence and darkness for a couple of hours, he would stomach a single measly point lost.
"On the other hand…" Gaius wasn't feeling absolute darkness today. With a wave of his hand, a soft, dim blue light suffused the box. It didn't seem to come from anywhere in particular, and there was no harshness to it. It reminded him of bioluminescent moss. Perfect.
As The Seeker prepared to enter a cycling trance, yet another idiotic, treacherous thought crossed his mind - why wasn't he just cultivating with Axia at home? More specifically, why weren't him and Axia dual-cultivating? Wasn't that something lovers were supposed to do?
Built on absolute trust, Dual-Cultivation requires exposing one's very self to another person in order to cultivate together. If both partners are of roughly equal advancement and aptitude, it is somewhat faster than normal methods - about 10-20% faster if Gaius recalled correctly - but if one partner is stronger, they slow their progress to raise the other one up. A method by which two practitioners can tie themselves together and avoid one living longer than the other.
To even suggest it felt stupid. An art built for people who married for love wasn't one the nobility could make use of. And he was nobility, strange as it felt to acknowledge such a thing.
Gaius tilted back his head, as if to make the thoughts swirling around settle into place in the crown of his skull and reconcile together. It was too dangerous, and this was already a risky investment by the Quintia family. Why would they ever approve of such a thing? Why would Axia ever approve, given her pragmatic approach to most things? Dual-Cutivation was just too risky, due to how easily one could be betrayed by their partner. While under the right circumstances it could speed up advancement, in most it was used more as an expression of absolute commitment. A meaningless gesture.
So why did he feel so sad?
Where were these tears coming from, and for what purpose were they being shed? He should be happy, to be living a life of privilege, rather than be some poor loose Cultivator, blown around by his passions and never amounting to anything. He liked Axia, enjoyed his time with her, would do quite a few things for her if she would only ask! What was the fucking problem?
In a flash, Gaius' fist struck his own cheek, the force and his bronze flesh creating a muffled bong sound as if he had struck a small gong. It echoed eerily off the walls of the deprivation box, serving to further punctuate the point he was making to himself. "Get a fucking hold of yourself." The Seeker muttered, licking up a few drops of blood which spilled from his lip.
"If you can't master your own emotions, you will never advance. You will never be anyone. You are not allowed to stop." Gaius muttered to himself, retrieving several mid-grade Spirit Stones from his pockets and readjusting his posture in the center of the tiny room. With a snap of his fingers, the lights went out and he was plunged into darkness.
"Twenty hours. Twenty hours should do the job." he growled. With a silent pulse of his will, Gaius sent another nine Contribution Points to the technique palace, extending the timer on the obsidian door's lock.
A cycling trance of that length was absurd for someone in Qi Condensation, even one with as much qi aptitude and cycling skill as Gaius. Past the fifteen hour mark, his efficiency would sharply degrade. It would then degrade again at the Eighteen hour mark, until it was even less efficient than his walking-cultivation was while fresh. Not only that, but it would steadily grow more and more painful as he pushed his meridians closer to the breaking point.
But that didn't matter. The point of this stunt was mental brute force. To lose himself in the steady rhythm of the cycling until his mood was fully stabilized, and he could be The Seeker again.
----
As his birthday approached ever closer, Axia and her immediate relatives fawned over Gaius to a degree he wasn't used to. Aiolos and Theodosia, her parents, spoke more words to him in a week than they normally did in several years. In addition, the usual stipend of materials the family gave him in reward for his continued progress was supplemented by several much rarer regents. In fact, the number of Centurion-level materials he was given became too much for him to even process at once, so he had to sell some of the more perishable ones for Contribution Points, though he made sure to do this through backchannels and proxies to avoid offending his soon to be in-laws.
A week of festivities passed in something of a blur, and Gaius spent the time doing almost nothing but training, cycling and attending events in his honor. It felt strange to him to be so openly lauded, after he had lived most of his life not going out of his way to attract too much attention.
One day he found himself on a peaceful, serene boating trip down the Laughing Father River(fun!), and another they let him hammer the nails in the crucifixion of a deserter(less fun…). Though all of it was very thoughtful, none of it left that much of an impression on Gaius; for all the luxury these events felt somewhat empty. These were little things tacked on before the birthday itself, to lend it extra significance. The end of one's first century was of course an extremely big deal.
Gaius soon came to understand all of the little things that had been done for his own enjoyment. When it came time for the celebrations on the day of the birthday itself, things were almost painfully formal. Held in a massive ballroom with polished mahogany floors and beautiful glittering light-arrays set into the walls and ceiling, this was the kind of place where important conversations happened and conspiracies were brewed.
There would be no joyous music here, no frolicking dances. It was an austere affair, in which important guests - family members, high-ranking Centurions, dignitaries and the like - would attend to congratulate the soon-to-be King and consort of the Quintia Heir on reaching this important milestone. More importantly, it would be an opportunity for powerful people to schmooze with each other, playing complex political games that Gaius couldn't even comprehend, though he had been assured that none of it would affect his life.
It was a nice place, that much Gaius couldn't deny. Wasteful? Sure, the ballroom wasn't used nearly often enough for how big and fancy it was, but the idea of having such an exclusive space opened just for him really did feel amazing. He could do without the… glittery-ness of the lights, though. After a while, they began to sting his eyes, so he made sure to not look up too often, focusing instead on the large crowd of attendees, many of them very important people.
Gaius really should have tried harder to learn about who was who. He didn't even know who most of these people were, making protocol difficult. He could feel their spirit with reasonable accuracy to tell their stage of advancement, but in such a crowded place where everyone was unguarded, the chance of a false reading went way up.
A faint whistling sound caught Gaius' ear, as air rushed to fill a vacuum where there was matter an instant before. Turning to the source of that bizarre noise, he beheld a familiar figure. That would do just fine, Gaius thought as he approached his friend as quickly as he could without looking like he was trying to hurry.
"It's wonderful to see you again." Amaranth greeted fondly, clapping Gaius on the back. The Shattering King was much more cleaned up than usual for this event, being both well-groomed and well-dressed. He had destroyed about a quarter of the entire event's hors d'oeuvres by himself, though strangely enough no one had seen him lift anything to his mouth.
"To think you made it here too." Gaius smiled back, walking off with Amaranth to a less crowded corner of the ballroom. "I wasn't sure if you'd come; an event like this doesn't seem to fit your…" He resisted the urge to say 'barbarism'. "...persuasion."
"A man risks his life alongside me, walks the hardest path alongside me, and doesn't think I'll come to his centennial birthday." Amaranth remarked as he looked off into the distance. "You ought to appreciate this day more. I remember my hundredth; it took a lot of cajoling, but I got most of the Thirteen to come. It was a mistake to invite that bear, let me tell you. Intelligent he was, but not domesticated...." The King's face grew more somber as he sighed; remembering old friends, perhaps.
At that moment, Gaius felt a bit ashamed of himself for getting so caught up on his own age. In the Third Sea, 99% of Cultivators didn't make it past Qi Condensation. Whether that number was higher elsewhere he did not know, but that was the reality of his home. How many peers had Amaranth, who was now a year or two over two hundred, said goodbye to? By definition, 99% of Amaranth's academy class was dead. In truth, more than that, as many who could have made Centurion would have been killed in the Trial before last.
The two friends slipped into a bit of friendly back-and-forth, not discussing much of substance. Bits of gossip, really, rumors from different parts of Devil territory. Most notable was the murmurings that Old Gold was travelling frequently, searching for mighty treasures with which to raise a new Nascent Soul. They could only hope the old monster would succeed in the next few decades; multiple centuries without a spare ready had already been very dangerous.
Even so, The Seeker could not shake the sensation of something rising up in his gullet, even when he ought to be relaxed and enjoying himself. He could not identify the sensation, only that it was a powerful one.
"Excuse me, I need to go and get some air." Gaius said after a while, attempting to appear casual and laid-back.
"Of course." Amaranth replied to his friend, who was already leaving.
That was rude of Gaius, but he couldn't bring himself to care, not right now. He needed a smoke, to blunt this headache and calm his nerves. How many was this in a single week now? More than a hundred, certainly. Fuck it, it was his birthday. Gaius lit up the second he was out of the ballroom and clenched the paper between scowling lips as he walked.
After all the times he had been here, Gaius was finally starting to make sense of this immensely confusing house. Up those stairs, down that hallway, and there he was in a small washroom. He took a moment to just stand there and breath, to get back inside his own head before he had to be back out there again, schmoozing. As he did so, he checked himself in the mirror, making sure his hair and the small amount of makeup he'd eventually consented to were all perfectly in place.
One hundred. The number didn't mean anything. Well, it didn't mean nothing - it was made of ten tens after all, making it rather significant in numerology. But in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't much more than any other digit in a series.
But still. One hundred years. If Gaius was a mortal, he would be dead today. At the exact moment 36,500 days had passed since his birth, his soul would automatically be ejected and seized by Heaven. Something about this ate at him. Could this be the Distortion Line Amaranth had told him about, the sensation of alienation from humanity that occurred when a Cultivator truly realized they were beyond mortals? It was hard to say.
One hundred. In those years, Gaius had known loss and gain, love and hate, victory and defeat. He had fought with all his strength and killed man and beast alike many times. For all the monotony that cultivation entailed, enough had happened that he could think of his life as eventful.
So what was this empty feeling flowing through Gaius' heart? He pressed his hand against the smooth glass of the mirror, gazing at his own reflection as if he would find his answer there. Maybe he would. Somewhere, beneath the surface, something struggled to break free in Gaius, and this terrified him; he didn't know what it was, only that it felt forbidden.
Doubt, perhaps? A sliver of himself that was afraid of the Single-Pillar Path? That couldn't be it, not after he had covered so much ground so quickly. But what else could stir such dread in him, if not the possibility of a lapse in his faith?
The stirring grew more violent, and one of Gaius' fingers pierced through the surface of the mirror. Cracks splintered across the surface, and Gaius withdrew his hand, expelling a tiny glass fragment from his skin with rudimentary technique. That was not ordinary glass, it was spiritually infused and mixed with grains of million-year ice to prevent it from fogging up. Breaking something like that by accident was a pretty unusual slip. The Seeker looked at the offending hand; palm facing him, twitching ever so slightly, a thin trail of blood dripping down the pinkie finger.
Whatever this feeling was, Gaius had to quell it. Once he obtained the Single Pillar, all of these pathetic, annoying doubts would be squeezed out of him, truly purifying his path. He only needed to hold on until then.
…'hold on'? Gaius' sandal made a scraping sound against the granite floor as he brought himself to a stop, doubling back on his previous thoughts. What was that phrasing? Gaius didn't need to 'hold on', he was perfectly happy. Gaius lightly struck himself in the forehead with the heel of his palm several times to get his brain back in gear, then returned to the festivities.
----
"You look great, you know." Zeno idly chatted, some kind of expensive drink held lazily in one hand. "You ought to take this much care of your appearance all the time."
Gaius scoffed at that, though he couldn't deny that his Senior Brother had a point. His hair had been neatly combed, then washed with various odd and pungent concoctions which had vitalized each individual strand. Not only did Gaius' hair take up more volume, but the traces of metallic essence within had been polished, giving it a slight sheen that brought out more of the yellow color. Honestly, he felt it was a bit much.
"It's totally impractical." Said Gaius, taking a small bite out of a little round cake. Not the simple kind of cake one might have with tea either, but an entire five layer cake, four inches across. He couldn't imagine the labor involved in baking them all. "An hour in the field, or even just walking around town, and it would go back to normal." Gaius would have grabbed a handful of follicles for emphasis, but he was afraid to even touch it after all the work that had been put in.
"Not everything has to be practical, you fool." Zeno smirked, punching Gaius on the arm. "Those robes you're wearing now, do you think the tailor had any intentions of you wearing them into battle?"
They certainly were very grand robes, Gaius had to admit. A striking mix of red, gold and black, they draped his body where he was broad and fit snugly where he was thin, accentuating his figure and giving him a broad profile. A sword hung from an oiled black leather belt at his waist, purely as an ornamental measure to complete the look. "I would assume not, but… aah, Zeno, it's just not comfortable." He complained, finishing his cake and wiping his mouth with a fine silk napkin.
Zeno laughed at that. It was a somewhat odd sound, a sort of quiet, high-pitched braying that undercut the calm and collected atmosphere the Angelus heir tried so hard to project. "Come on, Gaius, don't be such a baby." He forced out after mostly composing himself. "It's your one hundredth birthday. There are dozens more who want to talk to you. Stop thinking about obligations and little worries for tonight and enjoy yourself."
Enjoy himself? Gaius resisted the urge to laugh. This kind of thing wasn't his style even on a good day, and this was not a good day. Zeno was certainly far better suited for it. Still, Gaius nodded respectfully and took that as his cue to break off. Some rival of Axia's, Leocadia or Leonita or something like that, had been inconspicuously approaching him for twenty minutes now. She wished to make a pawn of him for some kind of scheme, no doubt.
He couldn't make a scene. No matter what this nonsense was, Gaius was obligated to not embarrass himself and the Quintia family in front of these esteemed guests. Holding up the pinkie and ring fingers of his hand left hand, Gaius send a signal to a servant to bring him his secret weapon. The quiet, blandly-dressed woman discreetly placed them into his pocket and left.
Three gray pills, shot through with streaks of blue, sat in his hand. Storm Stilling Peace Pills, they were called, if Gaius recalled correctly.
One of these was supposed to be a powerful mental aid for a Qi Condensor. It worked for six hours, and while Foundation Establishment(And by extension, Thirteenth Heavenstage) cultivation under its effects became less effective due to the lack of mental clarity, it did wonders for anxiety. For someone of his size, one might not be enough, and two would be a bit strong but not dangerous.
Gaius steeled himself and swallowed all three. Immediately, the effect slammed into him - it was like being wrapped in soft cotton from all sides, and The Seeker let out a sigh of relief as those dangerous thoughts were smothered to death.
Smile. Smile for them and smile for yourself.
Gaius put on a grin, his lips parting to reveal his teeth in a joyful smile like the earth tearing itself open to reveal a vein of glittering jewels. The lights above glittered like constellations, and he walked back into the crowd to enjoy his day.
----
I took a break from writing the Disco Elysium parody to write this, because I realized I hadn't done anything for Gaius turning 100.
I figure the end of your first century has gotta be a big deal in any cultivation setting, being a nice round number and all. It's also especially important in this one, since mortal lifespans are rigged to end the second they turn 100 if they make it that far. Thus as soon as that clock ticks over, you're fully in immortal territory.
Exactly one mortal lifetime; that's the perfect point to reflect on the life you've lived, what you're doing with yourself and how you feel about it all. In Gaius' case, there's a lot he doesn't feel good about, isn't satisfied with or has doubts on. But much like Heaven rigs mortal lives to end, he's rigged his brain to violently reject doubts, hindering any chance at self-reflection. There's a lot of tragedy there, and I wanted to start digging into that here.
