The Grave of the Plantman
a/n - Zenos Angelus, Lipita Delphi, Gaius Antonius, and Jiang Chyrsanthos collab (hopefully no typos)
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The weather was as clear as the day the plantman made his last stand at Pleuron not a century ago. In an unassuming part of the fortress, from which all Golden Devils hail, there lies the entrance to a mausoleum. Some of the entombed were transported with the retreat from the mountains, many legions more added after the shame of their retreat really settled in. Still, they are heroes, one and all, giving their lives in the hope of victory.
The entrance to the mausoleum was well-groomed, unlike the Golden Devil Zeno who sat near a flagstone, engrossed in the care of his father's sabre. His scarred right pointer finger still arcing lightning every few breaths.
The next person to appear didn't seem to have much of a desire to speak. Inwardly, Gaius cursed - he really was hoping to not run into anyone he knew. A foolish desire, considering how many lives Muyi had touched. His long hair, which he had tried to so carefully groom, was already beginning to fall out of place, a few ruddy green strands falling in front of his eyes. Everything about The Seeker's appearance seemed degraded and worn down; even his clothes looked shabbier, but it might have just been that they hung looser than usual.
A long, uncomfortable silence passed between the two old friends. Gaius reached a hand up and touched his chin, perhaps a sign he was craving a smoke. A bit of unruly stubble was poking out, far from his usual fastidiousness when he came to shaving.
After a while, Zeno looked up from his work, studying the new arrival carefully. A slight grin bloomed on his lips. "So, that's what it takes for you to stop smoking, friend?" His raspy voice echoed faintly between the sturdy walls.
Standing up, Zeno carefully rummaged through his satchel, ensuring not to damage the prepared sake bottle. After a long search, he pulled out the tea set, all too familiar to the both of them, starting the heating formation on his kettle. "Don't leave me hanging and share some stories while we wait for the others."
After a moment of hesitation, Gaius took off his hat and sat beside his old friend. "I suppose I do have some stories." He rattled out in a somewhat worn and ragged tone. "None of them too glorious, but stories nonetheless. Got run out of my father's homeland under threat of death, for one, not too proud of that adventure." He propped up one knee and rested his arm atop it, gazing out into the landscape.
After chuckling at the tone his story was delivered, Zeno asked further. "Well, for all the grief you accumulated, it seems to have concluded fairly well. You still live after all." After a moment of thought, he hastily added. "Got any plans for your ascension? As you can see, Amaranth practically swam in a cloud of success.
HA!" Zeno took back the cloth around his right forearm and showed the severity of his new scars marring much of his upper body, lightning faintly arcing between the lines.
Gaius whistled loudly. "I heard you got close - didn't realize it was
that close. Big balls on you." He chuckled quietly. "You're supposed to fear a tribulation, crazy bastard. Who am I to talk though?"
"As for my own ascension… well, that's just that thing. I got too cocky, thought I'd get everything I needed in the Yuan Realm, even while protecting a Junior at the same time. Now… I'm not entirely sure how I'm gonna do it. Most of the way to the Thirteenth, my progress was smooth, but that's come to a halt." He scratched the back of his neck, the border between his purified spine and unpurified brain itching. "Another ten, fifteen years of this…."
"If there's one thing that this foolish junior can say for certain, it is that senior Gaius Antonius will never flinch back from the demands of the pinnacle." Softly voiced, Lipita's interjection still carried far on the wind.
Raising a cup of tea, Zeno hollered. "Hear that, Gaius? You don't stand alone on your way to kingship. You will realize your
dream!" Swaying to the side and lowering his volume to talk to the person behind Gaius, Zeno said. "Ah, don't be shy. Come, friend. We still have some tea brewing." After beckoning their new arrival closer, Zeno got another cup out of his seemingly endless supply in his satchel. The stone way they used to seat themselves provided comfortable warmth to their bodies after a long day, the stony surface no problem for these seasoned cultivators.
Drawing near slowly and painfully, Lipita shuffled over to the two older men, a slight limp in her right side. She bows in greeting to both before taking the offered cup of tea. She took a brief sip to sample the beverage before speaking, "not bad tea, truly. Certainly better than anything a certain old fool ever brewed. Try a pot he'd made, and you'd think that he was contemplating the Dao of blind regret, practicing with his tea making." Lipita's voice remained even, and the focus of her gaze fixed on Zeno.
"It can be easier to cultivate regret." Jiang Chrysanthos found themselves interjecting, their voice hoarse from disuse. At the attention their sudden arrival drew Chrys bowed, their presence bashful. "Forgiveness, I did not intend to distu-"
"Oh, thank goodness," Gaius smirked upon seeing the unfamiliar fourth person. "I was beginning to think my mother, secretly alive, would be the next person I saw. I've done a poor job of avoiding awkward conversations today." He smiled, sunken eyes beginning to draw back into an expression of genuine amusement, which seemed not to fit his current state. "No troubles at all! Come on, give your piece."
Zeno chuckled all the while, handing out another cup. "Thank you all, truly. Zeno is the name."
Accepting the implicit order, Chrys took the cup and drank deeply before sitting beside the others, wrapping their robes underneath them. "Jiang Chrysanthos, but please, Seniors, call me Chrys if it suits you.
"I have found that as one cultivates themselves, they must surrender easier paths. If one is unprepared or unlucky, this can lead to losing treasures unexpectedly." At this, they frowned, looking south towards another smaller mausoleum. "It can be difficult to accept your own mistakes after such a loss, but to reject them is a form of giving up."
The tea truly wasn't bad at all, Lipita mused. A subtle blend with a strong flavour that revealed itself slowly over the course of several swallows. Of course, the greater enjoyment was to be found in projecting her ire at the senior to her side. Gaius was certainly familiar enough with her spiritual presence to pick up her mood. Their old business partner Jiang Chrysanthos was a surprising addition to this gathering but a welcome nonetheless. Perhaps Gaius would take some heed from the words of the Expert and pull himself out of the most unbefitting slump he'd gotten himself into. No wonder he'd been unaccompanied by his partner Scylla, the bullying adopted young mistress would not have stood for such presentation.
"Indeed, Senior Jiang, good fortune and bad follow each cultivator on the path of advancement, and we can only receive what is given to strive gamely onwards. The Heavens have no eyes for us, so we own our choices and their consequences in full. No other may relieve us of them." Lipita considered why they were all gathered here.
In stark contrast to the well-groomed surroundings, all four legionnaires attending this ceremony looked worn and bettered—each marked by their service scars both visible to others and hidden. And yet, for all this, their appearances seemed to fit the scene.
"He deserves something bigger than this, don't you think?" Gaius spoke up after a while. "A man like that, dying so suddenly, his remains thrown in a little stone box to be visited at the leisure of his Clansmen. One year of celebration, then left behind. Seems unfair after such a heroic life."
"Hmm," Chrys pondered, accepting an offered refill. "He never seemed to care for the forest outside Pleuron. At least not when we spoke that one time. Although I was very young back then."
Speaking up, Zeno added. "He cared for very little, but battle and justice, true. But consider friends. It bore fruit. Word on the vine has it that a junior Good Seed, a true genius loci of Pleuron, has arisen out of his sacrifice! His dream lives on with a chance to grow and nurture its own dreams no less!"
"I never personally knew the legate Jin Muyi, but several members of his mounted legion received supplies for their companion mounts from our family. His deeds were an inspiration for many both within his forces and outside. In my induction, several of the more commonborn Aspirants looked to his example as motivation for how high one could rise without the long shadow of wealth or legacy." Lipita joined in.
"I can't say I knew Senior Muyi well either. Served under him in one campaign, but I was just another Legionnaire then; I hadn't done much worthy of attention. I had only one real conversation with him." Gaius sighed fondly, hopping off the perch and gently running his fingers down the mausoleum's door. "What was it he told me? That's right; he said that the ability to sit still and quiet your thoughts is a skill, and it was one I needed to hone." He smiled softly. "I've gotten a little bit better at that, I suppose, though I'm still not good."
Zeno chuckled. "Sounds like the advice he gave his daughter one day when I visited his estate. Mind you, she needed it, just like I needed to visit the Dawn Fortress for my training. I wouldn't have met my beautiful wife without his advice, come to think of it. Truly the best kind of teacher."
Lipita smiled as she recalled something. "Miss Gui Hua was one of a number of seniors I reached out to when attempting to help my Victor Wulf with his difficulties employing the necessary Formations of a legionnaire. The first advice she gave me was exactly as you described, to have him learn to sit still."
Sipping on their tea Chrys focused on letting go of the bitterness that came upon them. It was an old pain that had no place here. "Hehehe." They couldn't help but laugh a little at that. They were in a graveyard, mourning the death of a hero, but pain had no place.
"Learning how to sit still, huh…." Gaius mused quietly. "I've heard rumours that Muyi's cultivation aptitude was above average, but not exceptional. Hence, he rejected the unorthodox stages that are so commonplace today; perhaps that's where he got that bit of wisdom. And here I am - one hundred and twenty, almost at the Thirteenth Heavenstage, and I'm moping."
Still laughing at themselves, Chrys couldn't help themselves; at least they would say so if anyone asked. "Do you not mope sitting still? I always did."
At Chrys' words, Lipita winced, her still healing Dantian reminding her that she was technically still convalescing. She'd aimed for the 12th Heavenstage ever since she'd begun to study and practice cultivation. Now having broken through into the Great Circle of Qi Condensation and paid a hefty price in the effort, she found her convictions wavering. What would the words they were pondering mean in this case: sit still and quiet her thoughts. The man who uttered them had advanced up the ranks and through great realms with renowned strength even without taking a single step of the path of unorthodoxy. Forgo her plans as the idle wishes of youthful fancy? Or was there more to her dream? She'd never aspired to the Single Pillar, only wanting to fortify her foundations before breaking through. Too much thinking and worrying got her dizzy now.
In the silence following their words, Chrys looked towards Lipita and frowned. "Stop that, don't get caught inside your head so easily," they said before cursing and bowing. "Sorry, I should watch my own tongue before condemning others."
"Thank you for the kind words, Senior Jiang. I saw no offence intended." Lipita assured Chrys. "Too much time in bed contemplating the possibility of an end to my journey as a cultivator has not been the most helpful, one could say. Certain assumptions require reflection now that I have tasted the bitter truth of experience."
Zeno cleared his throat before speaking, still raspy despite the enthusiasm. "Don't worry, Lipita. With that experience, your foundation is all the better for it! And, looking at how you handle yourself now, your posture is certainly benefitting from it." Slowly gathering his supplies back, accepting the cups back from Gaius, Lipita, and Chrys and washing some water Qi over them to clean them, Zeno put his tea set back into his satchel. Once done, he stood back up while fastening his sabre to his waist.
Standing up and facing Gaius before the mausoleum doors, Zeno inquired. "And you Gaius, to take some worry off of your weary bones, I'll add some stones off of my stipend when I can so you are able to take the throne waiting for you. How does that sound to you?"
Gaius rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know if I could accept something like that. You're a Centurion; you can't just think about your own advancement anymore, right?" He tapped his foot anxiously as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Well, you've been a Centurion for a long time, but like… you're a strong one, strong enough to turn the tide of battles. You just came back from the front lines, and you're headed to another frontline once we finally go to war. You've got a hundred men to worry about already, plus yourself."
Zeno countered, annoyance seeping into his voice. "None of them are crazy enough to seek Kingship alone and the King of our 302nd, we already support with our missions. Even lady Myia accepted help from her family! Think, Gaius! What is one more King for me to support? Besides, If I learned anything through the tribulation of Amaranth, it's the sheer power a king could wield, and we will need that might for the era ahead!"
"Besides, Kings are supposed to be greedy", Chrys added, before breaking into a short coughing fit, "j-just pay him back later."
"I think Senior Gaius is more worried about his fiancee." Lipita teased with a grin of her own, "Her fiance is receiving money from outside, for shame. Why I heard Centurion Xin had a thorough interrogation when she made a deal for my tutelage."
Gaius blushed and awkwardly shifted from foot to foot. "Now look at you, Zeno, you've got everyone bullying me…." He hung his head in defeat after a moment before turning on his heel to gaze into the distance. "Fine, but I'm going to pay you back twice over when I can. I have one final card to play, and some more funds for medical treatment will help make that possible."
Zeno nodded his head, content with the result. "It's settled then; the lone Seeker will have friends equipping him for the road ahead!"
Gaius combed back his hair bashfully. "Won't hurt to have, I suppose. Considering where I'll be going, I'll need to get everything right, bring exactly what I need."
"Where you'll be going? Do you mean the frontlines?" Lipita asked nervously, already certain that it wasn't anything so innocent. "Or some kind of special solo mission? Or maybe…" Her mind supplied one possibility, one she was reluctant to consider.
"I'm going to a terrible place, one it would be rude to discuss in front of this man's remains." Gaius shot back bluntly. "You shouldn't worry for my safety until you've fully recovered, Junior. Er, I am glad to see you're doing so well, by the way."
Lipita's eyebrow twitched at the sheer audacity of her Senior. "So soon after you got hurt, after all those years preparing for the Yuan Lands, you want to-"
"Like I said." Gaius interrupted, holding up a hand. "It's not something that we should discuss in front of Jin Muyi's remains. But yes, I will be entering that place; it's the last Secret Realm available to me while I'm still in Qi Condensation, and I'm in a unique position."
Zeno blinked several times, eyebrows furrowed in consternation. "You're going to ascend in there? Gaius. That…. that's what happened to…." After his sputtering attempt to protest, the Centurion sighed. "Kings! Foolish tyrants, the lot of them. I'll be content with a single victory over you today."
Sighing, Zeno gathered himself. "Mentioning fools. Do we want to take our ceremony for this beloved fool of ours inside?"
Slowly opening one door and beckoning them inside, Zeno asked the group. "Do any of you know the exact location? I could swear the board message called it a subwing, but of what?."
Chrys shook their head and looked towards Gaius, who shrugged in a noncommittal fashion. "Not sure. I've visited this place a couple of times, but both times I was totally lost. They build a new part every so often, and I've no idea how it's determined. It's an architectural nightmare."
"I've only ever seen the Delphi mausoleum," Lipita remarked. "I don't think I've gone inside a public one before. I'm not sure you
could keep something like that organised."
Nodding at the truthfulness of that statement, they head inside.
Entering the mausoleum as living legionnaires would be an experience if they visited right before or after the peak times of strife. Without the dangers of the trials looming, the halls of the mausoleum did not see many visitors. Walking through the intricately carved door, the four of them got into the reception floor without any trouble. They saw one giant room, with murals on the roof, depicting feats of valour accomplished long ago. The room itself was vast enough to comfortably allow a legion to stand, almost empty outside of times of true strife like the trials. Few legionnaires manned the reception, and the guards, most likely bored by the monotony of their duty, passed the time by lightly sparring in groups of four.
After all, when Devils were done making use of their dead, there wasn't much left to bury.
The room, while ominous, was lightly furnished, having only some couches and the occasional elegantly carved False Sun Crystal lamp. Several large doorways adorned each wall, labelled by a time period; as time went on, this mausoleum expanded to make room for new generations of the honoured dead, so new sections were always being built. Most of the doors represented a millennium-long period(again, Devils don't leave much behind to bury so that you could pack them in tight). Still, for periods of great bloodshed, a door might cover only a single century.
The newest door led to a section still being carved out but would likely be one of those representing a shorter period. Added to commemorate the start of Grand Elder Konstantinos' reign, it had existed for less than a quarter-millennium. Still, it would be filled up after another hundred thousand deaths or so.
"I suppose you're here for the newest sub-system? You don't seem old enough to be mourning anyone before then." A voice inquired in cool, clipped tones. As one, the group looked upwards towards the voice and saw a misty, incorporeal form of an old, thin woman taking solid shape before them. Through a pair of thick glasses, she observed the four with an indifferent expression.
Ghost Art practitioners, like all other forms of necromancers, were uncommon among the Golden Devils. Sure, the production of Gravebronze borrowed some necromantic principles. Still, Devils were a people who prided themselves on practical, dependable, well-made equipment - ghosts were just too temperamental and unpredictable for their tastes. This old Custodian, at the peak of Foundation Building, apparently didn't get the memo.
Taking point for the group, Zeno answered. "That is correct, Senior. We are here to honour Jin Muyi. Could you please guide us to his resting place?" tightening his grip on his satchel.
The Custodian's eyes seemed to light up in a morbid fashion. "Aah, heroic Jin Muyi; quite a controversial figure, that one." She gave a wistful smile. "He was somewhat of a struggle to entomb, I must say. No Gravebronze coming out of him, and in fact, most harvesting attempts outright failed - physically, he broke down in such a…." She caught herself after a moment. The group was visibly baffled by her lack of attention for them.
"Forgive me; after enough time one learns to find fascination in such things. I am Leona Thrakis, the head Custodian of this mausoleum." The old woman pursed her lips together into something resembling a smile and gave a shallow bow.
"Fascinating is a good way to describe his life, I think, but that slip up shouldn't stop us from our endeavour. His resting place, please?" Zeno said with a tense smile on his lips.
"Yes, yes, I understand. Busy times these days. Right, this way." Leona replied, turning on her heel and taking off toward one of the doors at a brisk pace. "The current era's sub-wing is here. He should be, hmm, about five hundred fifty levels down? I shall guide you there; the lights don't always work perfectly when we've first installed." She continued to ramble, trusting the visitors to keep up.
Gaius, taking a moment to realise they were moving, stumbled as he caught up with the old woman and his fellow visitors. "Five hundred fifty levels? Pardon my ignorance, but… just how deep can the sub-wings go?"
"Deeper than you'd think, Junior." The Custodian explained plainly. "The caskets don't need much space, but they add up over the centuries. And as long as there's even a little bit to bury, you get a casket - one of the more comforting guarantees of life in the Clan, I feel. Strong or weak, we all get a respectful place of rest."
As Zeno jogged along, he asks. "Are bodies the only thing you bury because our stranded juniors would like to lodge a complaint, no?" Looking backwards to see the others already drooping from the fast pace Leona was setting.
"…Oh, right. Yes, perhaps we should slow down a moment, Senior?" Gaius said, trying to be polite.
"Oh my, I didn't even check their cultivation, did I? How silly." Leona tittered and pushed up her glasses. "I had assumed you were all Centurions."
Forget being mistaken for Centurions, Lipita grimaced; her body was protesting being vertical for so long. This protest took the form of pulses of incandescent pain from her limbs into her spine, turning her spinal column into a good replica of a canal filled with molten magma. She was forced to shorten her stride and finally spoke up. "I must apologise, but I will have to beg your leave to ease the pace. It appears I am not as recovered as I'd hoped."
"Why don't you walk in front, Lipita?" Gaius put gently, hesitantly patting Lipita on the shoulder. He still wasn't sure how he should approach his Junior after everything had happened. She didn't seem to hold any hard feelings, but how could he be sure it was so simple? Best to keep things polite and not get in the way of her stubbornness.
"Sounds like a good idea to me," Zeno commented idly, side-eyeing their guide in the mausoleum. "Surely such a mistake won't occur to our esteemed Senior again." Thinking for a moment, he offered Lipita. "I could also give you my heavenly iron boots for now. It would allow you to hover and prevent your wounds from getting worse." clacking his boots together to show himself hovering with some speed from one horizon to the next.
"I would have to unfortunately decline. Your boots are attuned artefacts and what speed I'd gain would be negated by the… discomfort of acclimating to your aura as I am." Lipita confessed.
Zeno could only nod. "True enough." Checking the pace of the others, Zeno placed himself at the back of their new formation.
"I would also appreciate a slower pace, Custodian Leona", added Chrys, their eyes noticeable wider than before. "My own cultivation leaves me uneasy here." a tone of self-critique audible to the others.
Taking on a new formation, they continue the rest of the way at something approaching a mortal's leisurely walk rather than a centurion's.
Lipita repressed a shudder as the group passed the two-hundredth level. The necrotic emanations just got stronger the deeper they went. So many remains packed so closely within the walls… at this concentration, it almost felt like The Harrowing.
No, not quite. These were lingering intents captured in death unfocused and indirect, unlike the curse of her blood which had a base animal cunning, striking at weakness and distraction, lulling unobservant Delphi into complacency when they thought they'd grown accustomed to the torment. This pressure was not an attack, merely a neutral force, born from the sheer number of remains present.
Zeno soon noticed their youngest Junior trembling and shot a furtive glance at Gaius to ask the obvious question. 'Do we want to know'?
Gaius replied with a combination of a rather complicated look and a brief tilt of the head that roughly meant 'Long story, ask me later.' before glancing backwards at Chrys, who by their confession was also ill at ease. 'What do you know of him?'
Zeno's simple combination of looks and an almost imperceptible raising of his shoulders established Chrys to be of a dependable family, their method of silent communication unable to convey more detail.
"We should be almost halfway to the bottom now," Leona explained, waving a hand and releasing a thin stream of qi to get a particularly recalcitrant lamp to turn on. "Each sub-wing is divided in two ways; first by time, then by rank. The first hundred levels are reserved for Aspirants, 101-400 for Legionnaires, 401-500 for Centurions, and everything below that for Legates, and, Imperator forbid, Nascent Souls. As more remains are recovered, they are placed into the nearest available location. I'm sure you understand why."
Indeed, that was rather intuitive. A Legionnaire would most likely be visited only by fellow Legionnaires. Better then, to not needlessly subject Qi Condensation Juniors to the pressure at the bottom levels.
It was a bit ghoulish, but Lipita could imagine Chemos at home here. For all his irreverence, the Expert had the utmost respect for the solemnity of memory. She knew that he'd personally added several compatriots and sworn companions to a Roll of Names of his own. They might not have been of the Delphi bloodline, some not of the Golden Devils, but they'd been boon friends and honoured them with a shrine in his Palace, the incense of contemplation ever lit for their lives so long as he drew breath.
Zeno butted in. "Then how do you tend to the tombs of Nascent Souls, like lord Alexios? Are there so few emanations of Dao to allow you to work there? And what about Qi concentration?" With every few doors they pass, the ornaments on the walls became more and more ornate. While before there were only a few splashes of colour, now some parts depicted heroic battles or favourite pastimes. Each one was unique in appearance, and everyone had a section.
Lipita scanned the walls and thought she'd figured out a bit of the solution to Senior Zeno's question. Dao emanations from a Nascent soul were frightful things as her first encounter with the Archegetes at induction had proven. They could affect the connection of body and soul more directly than all preceding great realms, but that was the known limit. At the very least, she could observer the mechanics of Demonic Tunes employed in the array work. Dampen and counter with opposing energies. A dead Nascent lost much of the strength they had in life; with a Nascent to assist, you could study the specifics of their Dao manifestation and focus your warding. Although this was partially guesswork based on the limited testimony she'd read of those Legionnaires who'd participated in the Archegetes special lectures immediately before the last Hundred Year Trials.
"It's always a custom job, with a Nascent Soul. Very difficult to handle; that's why you need a Ghost Artist to do it. I was raised for this job!" Leona snapped her fingers, summoning a wisp of ectoplasmic flame. "But Dao emanations with no will behind them aren't as deadly as you'd think. Dao
is mostly Will, after all. Still, harvesting a Nascent Soul's body is a painstaking process, taking months if not years."
A nostalgic look fell upon the old woman's face as she explained. "I was the one who took apart that Cannibal whippersnapper, you know. Grand Elder Alexios too. Intense experiences, both of them."
"Interesting; thank you for your service then, Senior!" Zeno thanked her while curtseying shortly without seeming to lose his stride.
"It's no trouble. I should be the grateful one. The death of a hero is a sacred and precious thing. To be able to brush up against it, even distantly… it's a beautiful thing." The Custodian seemed almost ready to cry before composing herself. "Grand Elder Alexios' loss was a devastating blow to the Clan, but we can at least be comforted that it was an exemplary death. Perhaps the only way it could have been better is if he'd looked the man who did it in the eye, but from what I was told, he was killed from above and behind." She sighed sadly.
As the group went deeper and deeper, the air grew mustier, a stale taste infesting every breath they took as the surface grew ever more distant. The discomforting pressure on the spiritual senses of those present also grew heavier, like a vice squeezing a little bit tighter as they went. It was not malicious, not angry, just dense.
Lipita found herself swimming in a melange of latent will. So many dead so close together made for a morass of lingering echoes. Surprisingly her body tingled in affinity, even in death the Blood of Bronze attuning itself to like, a common bond unbroken in life and, evidently, death.
Through it all, the Custodian continued to occupy the group with her rambling. As thoughtless and creepy as she could be, she nonetheless prevented the trek from becoming a near-silent trudge, which would have been far worse. "Indeed, you cannot know the value of a man's life until it has ended. A good death, one which leaves a lasting impression, is a thing of deep significance." Leona lovingly ran her hand along one of the caskets as she spoke, this one containing one of the many Centurions killed by the Heavenly Star wielder in the recent Trial. "And in my four hundred thirty years, I must say Jin Muyi was among the most impressive of all those I've interned. Not one legendary end, but two. Oh, if only they would unredact the story of his second death. I wish to know the whole of it, warts and all."
Ignoring the comments about warts, Zeno forged on ahead. In his mind, he went over the list of items he took with him for this gathering. Cups, sake from Magnus that he seemed to like according to Muyis' legionnaires and, the most important of all, an open mind.
He mused. All of them are important, not for Jin Muyi, but for the living. In life, he was influential for many in the clan, not always because of any sort of personal connection, but his actions always rippled. When he moved, something changed. The higher focus on cavalry in recent times is only one such change.
"I find myself repulsed, Custodian Leona," Chrys said at last. "To find any meaning of death? Once I hoped to, but when attempting to ascend with such a Dao, I found myself struck down and crippled," they added, gripping their left arm that still showed the lightning bolt scars.
"Instead, I found that to die is to become frozen, no longer able to change ourselves or others. And this ice remains a wound within those who loved us, what meaning is there in death here, better to live. always better to live."
"That is a powerful way to face life. I must commend it." Leona replied with a grandmotherly smile. "Indeed, it is foolish to chase after death, but to be ready for it, to accept it when it is worthy of your life, I see no sin in that."
"But can it ever be worth your life if in death you curse all those who remain? How many thousands would one death have to save to be worth that?" Chrys asked back. "I fear our idolising of death just weakens us further, like an improperly tempered blade."
"Animals, humans, nations, mountains, stars. All of it ends. All of that time is borrowed." Leona retorted, gaze sweeping over yet another tomb. "Living,
existing, is to emerge briefly from the water, To seek further life is not a sin, but one day it all returns. I don't see the despair in such a thing."
"Returns to what? An unfeeling heaven? or a rotting turtle," snarled Chrys, as sparks jumped up and down their left arm.
"The turtle? A speck. Heaven? A single spark. This is one star among numerous others, and it too will one day expire. No, it all goes back to something more, bigger, something we don't even have words for." The Custodian paused for a moment, uncharacteristically considering her words. "It's not lost; that essence shall resurface as new life someday. Like water, it becomes vapour, forms into clouds, and falls as rain. Even in the desert, every once in a while, we get a big storm."
At this Chrys paused, a frown on their face. "It feels cold, to consider human life as just water. but you have some truth; I can feel that."
After deliberating for a moment and turning over the words like a puzzle Chrys continued."To die is to stop, like a river running dry. But the river's water can still be found elsewhere, and the path of the river bed remains. Cassandra once spoke of rivers of shadows when we were young. How she followed them to us. Even without water, there is still a purpose to these rivers."
Leona nodded. "That's right. And it's not all without meaning. Here's a riddle: what happens when a man drinks a cup of water? It enters his body, and eventually, all of it will leave in various forms, returning to the world outside his body. But what was left behind, even after the water has all left?"
At this, Chrys smiled at Leona. "You have already sent me into deeper thoughts than I've had in decades, a riddle as well? Hahaha. Please forgive me, honoured Custodian, but I will have to meditate on this."
"That's good. It would have been foolish to answer right away." The old woman laughed fondly. "And with that, we have arrived."
At last, the group arrived at the very border of the Legate levels, where Leona caught Lipita's arm and paused the group. "Be wary from here on; the Legate Wills can catch the ill-prepared off guard. Stay behind me, and I will guide you through safely", and with this, her arms glowed, and faint wisps circled the group.
Following behind her, they only took a couple of turns until Leona stopped once more before an archway covered in stone vines. "I will remain outside. I have already honoured this hero enough," she declared before fading into the walls of the mausoleum, the only sign of her presence the faint wisps of light.
At an unspoken signal, the group stepped forward as one under the archway and looked up upon the countless visages of Jin Muyi.
Every hero cast a long shadow, and no pedestal did not conceal its fair share of scandal. Lipita wondered what hidden secrets and silenced shames lay interred with the Elder they had come to pay their respects to. It was in spite of their flaws that the Clan revered their champions laid low for who could claim righteousness under the Tyrant Heavens. Do they serve the Clan, advancing its interests? Was there utility in drawing attention to this deed and sweeping that misstep under the rug? Cynical considerations, sure, but undoubtedly ones that had been well and truly made before events had led to their current destination. It was enough, she supposed, that she knew what could be said. Sometimes you had to trust that the old monsters who spent the lives of their subordinates like water in the name of the Clan had honour lest you saw shadows everywhere.
To be a Hero was to shine a light upon the people that sheltered, guided, and empowered them. Chrys remembered each moment of his life that the Elder entombed here had touched, both directly when he saved their own life outside Pleuron and indirectly when he and the other Indomitable 13 saved Chrys' parents and siblings within Pleuron. There could be no more extraordinary deed within the Clan than to place oneself between the monster and the innocent. And Jin Muyi had done that again and again. Not even becoming a monster himself had stopped him from being a hero. If anything, it just pushed him harder, as he denied the destiny the Heavens had no doubt laid out for him.
Seeing the burial place of his honoured teacher, Zeno bowed low in the tradition of the turtle world. His metallic ash-blond hair glittered in the low light of the room, with the others standing beside him, performing their acts to honour him.
Catching sight of Gaius and Zeno bowing low, Chrys remembered themselves and knelt before upon the dry earth as their parents had taught them, an artefact of their history before the clan. Chrys counted the seconds, one for each virtue, before standing once more.
Lipita followed the example of her seniors in bowing before the tomb. Her bow is long and deep as befitting a Hero of the Clan, forcing weak flesh into submission, no trembling or shaking here to bring dishonour to the personage entombed before her. The subtle honours of Delphi family tradition escaped sight, unable to pierce mind and memory. Within the ever-present mental construct that is the basis of the family's legacy arts, Lipita engraves the setting around her within her Palace of Memory. Wherever she journeyed, an echo of this grave would be carried with her, a phantom to remember a ghost.
Gaius reached into a pouch, retrieving a series of large vials, which he placed in a semicircle around the tomb. "Whatever it is that happened to you, no one would hold it against you. You were so strong of mind, more so than anyone else I've ever known." He retrieved a knife, which gleamed impossibly in the dimness of the room. Even the way it moved seemed subtly strange like it was more
real than the world around it. Gaius had gone to a lot of trouble to even borrow this for a single trip: A knife of pure Celestial Bronze.
Raising the blade to his wrist, Gaius continued to speak. "With this, Jin Muyi, I honour you. Know that no matter what happened, no matter how your body changed, no matter what some thought of you, you were a true comrade, a true Clansman to the end." With that said, he slashed open his wrist, filling each vial most of the way before corking it. This was a gesture with two meanings: first, that Jin Muyi was theirs by blood, no matter to whom he had been born. Second, that even if he became a beast, a true demon that hungered for the blood of men, he was accepted with open arms forevermore. A few drops missed and dribbled out onto the stone, and after he was finished, Gaius did his best to wipe it off completely. With a burst of qi and a tremendous flex of his forearm, the bleeding stopped almost completely.
After everyone was done, Zeno retrieved the ceremonial sake from his satchel, handing out cups to everyone and filling them one by one in a single slow motion. Succeeding the emptying of the sake into the cups, Zeno mused into the room, a glint of green visible in his eyes. "His dream, to protect the weak no matter the opposition, echoes from this place. Huh. What a shining luminary!" The bottle fell into the worn-looking satchel lying beside him with nary a sound thanks to paper enveloping it midfall.
Chrys lifted their cup but didn't drink yet, eyes locked onto the stone, "Almost like he is standing with us still."
Lipita looks down into the small vessel in her hand. "Each life safeguarded from death to stand spear uplifted in service for the Clan is the mark of his legacy."
"It's an odd feeling to be enveloped in another's guiding principles." Gaius mused, taking a drink - the one drink a week he was allowed, in his current condition - and shaking the cobwebs of exhaustion out of his head. Perhaps he'd lost a bit too much blood, considering his recent poor health. "So these kinds of feelings really were what lay within his heart, all the way down. It was hard to tell what the man was thinking sometimes."
"I'm sure Custodian Leona would tell us that that is the beauty of death." Chrys sighed, finally downing his sake. "How it is only in death that the full value of a life can be known."
"Well, only with death have we dreamed the last of our dreams for this turtle world. After that last dream we can look back at the dreams achieved." Zeno philosophises, swirling his own cup with one hand.
A faint smile lingered on Lipita's lips as she swallowed down the sake. The burn running into her throat was warm and welcoming in the sombre darkness of the tomb. Handing the cup over to Senior Zeno, she turned to Senior Gaius, extending a weave of qi familiar to any Legionnaire. "One last salute for a fallen Elder? The Hoplite bears us all, from Junior to Elder, the strength of Bronze working together to overcome all."
Emptying his own cup in one big gulp before placing it down, a grin framed Zeno's face. The motion and warmth running through his body was all too familiar, the link to his kin reinforcing his body and spirit in ways no other technique could. "A salute to the teacher living on in our dreams!"
Lipita and Gaius had trained together for over a decade before venturing into the Yuan mountain range. Linking together in a Hoplite formation was a well-practised manoeuvre they slipped into like no time had passed. Extending the reach to the others was as simple as breathing, all those hours drilling that loveable oaf, Victor Wulf bearing fruit.
As Chrys accepted the invitation to the formation, they couldn't help but remember each time they had performed it in the past and the faces of each comrade they had performed it with. Yet with the warmth of the clan's blood surging within their veins, all their doubts and regrets seemed to fade; there was only duty and honour.
The figure of the Hoplite was usually a shadowy apparition, a helmeted Legionnaire nondescript with bronze shield and spear. Not this one. Here rising imperious and defiant was a distinct relief. Still rendered in the spectral darkness of the projection but reflecting a familiar form.
Somehow, the figure felt easier to shape than usual. Each of them could perform a Formation with nearly the same ease as a standard technique, yet this seemed to practically flow out independently. The projection resembled Jin Muyi very closely; the same hard, strong features, the same unusual roughness of his false skin. It wasn't perfect, of course - none of them could say they had truly memorised Muyi's face to the most minor feature. This was the idea of Muyi, an echo of his life; the real thing would never return. The closeness changed the usual blank legionnaire, gaining a face, even some kind of identity so close to the honoured dead of the Clan.
Spear crashed against shield, and four voices lifted together in an uproarious call. "Honoured Elder, Juniors salute!" Their voices echoing loudly in the small room, no doubt heard by the Custodian outside.
There was a comfort to found in such traditions. It did not ease the pain so much as put it in a new light. It became something productive, something that could be examined and understood. Through mourning traditions, the pain of loss becomes something to be grasped, which can be perceived in full and made use of.
"It's not so bad, is it?" Gaius smiled peacefully. "We grasp so desperately for more and more time to keep existing, but that borrowed life will always go back eventually. You'd have to transcend past Heaven to prevent that, but there's probably another limit waiting still. Something even higher above that will no doubt swallow us up when our time is spent. But slipping away isn't always so terrible."
Zeno nodded. "True. For all that his lack of presence now can be felt, the way he died had a profound impact on us all. For the better, I would argue. Why else would the Clan lionise him so, if not for his deeds achieved despite the opposition?"
"We idolise him, and so our lives will echo his. As we echo him, he lives on, and so more echoes are born." Chrys answered, their words at odds with their earlier arguments, yet no less accurate. No voice was needed to be raised against the truth of that statement of fact, and all knew it.
The five remained like this for a while longer, the four juniors in silent meditation while their hoplite remained saluting. After what would have been an age to a mortal, the hoplite of Jin Muyi faded away, and the four petitioners stirred.
Lipita was the first to break the silence. "War beckons with Jingshen", she whispered. "Many will die in the east, perhaps even some here. Death is an ever-present companion in the ascent of cultivation, and so many will fall away at each step. All we can ever do is struggle and stand unflinching."
"That's right." Gaius nodded resolutely. For a moment, his usual vigour seemed to return to him. "This isn't a brief spike in activity; it's still speeding up. Zeno, Lipita, you can feel it too, right? Connected to you like this, it's even more clear." Something unfathomable, even to Gaius, flashed behind his eyes. "An ocean of blood is going to wash over the flipper, maybe beyond. A time of legend. A time of terror."
The divinator among them nodded. "A Great Era is upon us, no doubt." Raising his scarred index finger, Zeno continued. "Clan records indicate us never benefitting from these times, but I have a feeling this time will be different…we will make it different!" clutching his sabre with one hand, like a vow to himself.
"We will ride the tides of fate this once instead of being pulled under." Added Chrys.
Gaius tilted his head, pupils dilating as if he were trying to focus on something. Indeed he was, but it was so far beyond his feeble awareness as to be laughable. "I can't help but wonder, though, what was the catalyst? Callista's tribulation? Muyi's heroics? The Grand Elder's ascension?"
"Who knows? Maybe like a ripple in a pond, the trigger was 500 years ago and only now are we able to see it. It might be worth hunting for it, though. What do you say Gaius? Want to find the spring from which this great age grew? I'll pay." Offered Chrys.
Gaius chuckled at the casual assertion of such a monumental task. "Sure, why not? I'll find time to squeeze it in." He smirked sarcastically.
Lipita shook her head at her seniors' need to know. The first thing you learned when you had the means to accumulate a wealth of knowledge was just how little you or anyone actually knew. The shadows of history and fate were unfathomably deep and the horizon of possibility ever distant. Sometimes all you had was instinct.
Shaking his head at the amusing thought, Zeno added. "Our fates are never clear, at least as far as my divination can tell. It always comes down to a myriad of factors. Some we can discern, but most lie buried under the sands of time. If we searched together, we might just find a point of origin. Though I doubt we will learn the full story anytime soon."
After deliberating for a moment, Zeno asked into the chamber, facing the others with his hands at his side. "Are we in agreement? Do we search for the origin of this Era?" Noticing her hesitance, Zeno urges Lipita to explain.
"My life's work is to exorcise the curse upon my family, the Harrowing, that cripples the greatest of us," Lipita explained, thinking out loud. "I had thought it a difficult task as is, but perhaps I stand to gain a better standing by seeking to unravel the mechanics of the Heavens? The Delphi were afflicted because we were repugnant, foreign to these Nine Seas, yet now the Clan is lifted up with the rising fortune of a Great Era. Perhaps this is another sideways means to freedom? I will assist your search as best as I can."
"That really is one hell of a thing, isn't it?" Gaius remarked, taking a seat against the wall to catch his breath. After a few minutes of exertion and already Gaius was looking half-exhausted. "Well, since I'm going to be in your debt, I'll pay it back by chipping in with your search. Sounds fascinating anyhow."
Gratitude seeping in his voice Zeno explained. "That's all I ask. We won't be the ones finishing it anyway. But it would allow others to start with a foundation of research." Catching a glance at Gaius, he asked. "Maybe we should continue out of here, if only so our honoured Custodian may attend to her other duties again?" Placing his satchel back where it belonged, Zeno took one last view of his teacher's tomb, his feet already leading him out of the room.
"Agreed, and as I said, I will happily support this quest." Said Chrys as they bowed one last time to Jin Muyi's shrine and turned back towards the entrance.
Gaius wiped the sweat from his bow and stood up to follow them out, bowing to the tomb as well. "So long, Jin Muyi. You worked hard; take a well-earned rest, and we'll handle it from here."
Lipita trailed the departing group. She was not looking forward to the flight of stairs upwards, but she still felt inspired. Who knew mausoleums could be so encouraging?
The four departed; that was all there was to it. They were all very busy people, after all, and these were busy times. Lipita and Gaius would begin their reconciliation on that day, but that is a story for another time.
Jin Muyi would never return, but his legacy - the lives he saved, the future heroes he inspired - would carry far beyond his life. Fate, as ever, swirled imperceptibly, frothing and churning, but the Golden Devil stepped forth to meet it.
