Chapter 663
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Chapter 663
Fight or flight is very different when youre no longer beholden to bodily instincts.
Almost everyone has experienced it at one time or another. Danger or excitement presents itself, and the world slows down until it stops. The pounding of your beating heart echoes in your ears as it sends a spike of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your mouth dries, your skin goes clammy, your body shakes, and your mind is either racing at a million thoughts per minute or silent as the grave, rendered helpless by the staggering overflow of information presenting itself. These circumstances are not meant to encourage careful deliberation and rational thought, but rather instinct and reaction, readying your body to do the aforementioned fight or flight.
The problem is, the foundations for basic human instinct were laid down back when we were naked, fire-worshipping cave-dwellers. Humanity has come a long way since then, and while our instincts served us well back when we competed with wolves and tigers for food and shelter, theyre all sorts of useless for the modern-day warrior. Even here and now in the Empire, where we fight with spears and bows rather than tanks and rifles, most of a soldiers training is meant to counteract instinctual behaviour. When faced with an overwhelming horde of enemies, for most, their instincts will be screaming at them to charge forward and fight or break ranks and run, but a soldiers training teaches them to stand fast and hold strong. When fighting as a unit, ten average Martial Warriors should easily fend off forty to fifty average Defiled tribesmen, simply by virtue of combined arms and cooperation, the effectiveness of which only scales up from there. A hundred infantry cant do much against a thousand Defiled, and it might well look like all hope is lost, but if those infantry were to follow their instincts and start running for hills, the three-hundred heavy cavalry waiting in the wings wont have a nice, clumped up crowd of Defiled to hammer away at.
What Im trying to get at is, when it comes to warfare, base instincts are rarely correct. If they were even remotely effective, then training and experience wouldnt be so important. Ive been fighting in this particular war since I was sixteen, and I still dont have it all down pat, because here and now, my first instinct is to cut and run. Flee back to the District and seek shelter in the manor, where my family and guards can protect me. A dumb move, if I were to make it, because not only would I be putting innocent civilians and noncombatants in danger, I would also be leading a squad of readied assassins towards my sleeping loved ones, which I fear would not end well for them. These killers came prepared to face not just me and my guards, but also Dad, Akanai, Grandpa Du, and all the other notable Warriors in my family. They sent sixty killers, which means they either dont have any more to spare, or they thought sixty was enough to finish the job.
So in a way, me coming out here to get stabbed wasnt the worst thing in the world, assuming I survive of course.
This is the conclusion I come to as I stare into my would-be killers hazel eyes, brimming with suspicion and disbelief. Hes surprised because he didnt think itd be this easy, that I would just leave my bastion of safety and come out to meet him alone, unarmed, and unprompted. Much like with everyone else, this mans thoughts and emotions are all right there for anyone to read, though Im still not entirely sure how Im able to pick up on it. Its just... there, as perceptible as a scent in the air or a breeze across my skin, just something I know and understand as easily as breathing. There is no remorse in him, no regret or sympathy, only professional concern and curiosity as to why his targets behaviour is so unexpected. Beneath it all, lies a bed of relief, because the task hed been given was not an easy one, and hes glad everything worked out. Murderer though he might be, hes glad this mission turned out so well, because the alternative wouldve left many of his comrades dead or injured.
But his relief is measured and muted, because he knows his job is not yet done. Theres more to his mission, and hes already thinking about how to best carry it out, because there are still others he has yet to kill.
Its been three months since I lapsed into this coma, three months since Zhen Shi trapped me in a lifetime of suffering, and three months since I severed everything and anything in order to retreat into the Void. This morning, I Devoured all my nearby Natal Souls and took in all the sorrow, misery, anguish, and regret Id severed away in recent weeks. Then, I spent every second from lunch onwards submerged in joy, love, and floof in order to Balance all that gloom and doom, but still it wasnt enough. Now, thanks to these assassins, I am able to experience what is left in the gamut of human emotion, the darker, more malevolent side that lurks just beneath the surface of our minds.
These bastards were sent here to kill not just me, but also the people I love. I dont know if they have specific targets or if they were ordered to kill everyone and leave no survivors, but regardless of their intent, I will not allow them to even try.
Fuelled by black hatred masquerading as righteous fury, my fist hurtles towards the handsome assassins face, and my heart soars with joy and satisfaction as I watch his features crater beneath the impact. The warm spray of blood and bone sets my skin to tingling as I take in the heady, metallic scent of death and marvel at my newfangled toughness. Despite exploding my foes head with a single punch, my hand is neither bruised nor scratched, protected by my emerging Domain and the rough, yet pliable skin resulting from weeks of carefully measured medicinal baths. While a sharp knife will still cut me, I could spend hours punching solid steel without scuffing my knuckles, much less breaking my hand like expected, for which I have Taduk, Taiyi Zhushen, and Li TieGuai to thank.
Bodily refinement, high cost for minimal gains, but Ill take every advantage I can get.
As my Domain billows out into the murky darkness, it reveals the general distribution of my foes as their emerging Domains materialize to obstruct my own, forming a cage to prevent both sound and Sending from passing through. Though I am unable to sense the exact locations of every assassin here on the plains, its easy to sense where their resistance is weakest, the same way I can tell the difference between a sturdy wooden door and a paper one through mere touch. Somewhat unsurprisingly, the weakest point is due north, while the strongest resistance is due south, which is where they expect me to run if given the chance. More proof that instincts arent always reliable, but east and west are only slightly less guarded, as the Sentinel camp lies in the first direction, and an Imperial training camp in the other, while to the north, there is nothing but farms and grassland, with the occasional handful of houses to break up the monotony.
My foes mean to herd me away from the District, away from safety and reinforcements, but while they think theyve got me trapped here on the plains, they will soon learn that our roles are reversed.
For I am the Predator, and they, nothing more than prey.
A single bound brings me away from my headless foe, which still stands despite my lengthy introspection. More importantly, it brings me out of sight as I disappear before their very eyes, rescinding my Domain until it barely extends past my skin. This leaves me blind to their presence, but it does the same to my foes as I slink into Concealment and scurry through the frosted grass, an eager predator searching for a chance to strike. Numbers mean little in a battle like this, for the same darkness they used to hide their approach has now turned against them to assist me. Defiled see better than Imperials in the dark, but even they need some light to see, and with heavy clouds obscuring both moon and stars, I can barely see my hand in front of my eyes. It will be the same or possibly worse for them, and while my Domain is large enough to uncover them all in a single sweep, none of them can say the same.
As I lead my foes on a roundabout chase, I go over my options, of which there are precious few. I have no weapons and no means to obtain one, aside from the black blade still embedded in my flesh. Poison seeps into my blood and targets my nerves with its paralytic agent, but a simple working of Chi and Panacea breaks down the insidious toxin into harmless waste products, which will later be filtered out by my liver and kidneys. Ill be pissing black sludge later and will need to drink plenty of fluids to flush it all out, but I cant afford to remove the blade just yet, not before I figure out how theyre tracking me. Its unmistakable now, because as we move ever northward at breakneck speeds, I can sense they arent even trying to find me through Domain, but rather honing in on my position no matter how many twists and turns I take and moving to ensnare me within their web.
Each step brings me hundreds of meters away, but still I remain trapped within their encirclement. Worse, theyre closing in around me, and if I go too far in any direction, I will be caught in their metaphysical trap and cut down as I pass. How irritating. I cant kill them if they know Im coming, especially not injured and weaponless as I am, but I dont understand how they keep finding me. The Empire has some secretive means to track Officers tokens and such, but I dont have mine on me, nor am I wearing anything given to me by the Imperials. Sight, scent, and sound are all covered by Concealment, while Ive yet to feel them even try to find me through Domain, not that they could if they tried, which leaves...
Ah right. Ive encountered this before, in what feels like a lifetime ago, with killers hot on my trail no matter how carefully I ran. The Society used some of Songs blood to create some sort of mystical tracking matrix, one which they claimed could not be blocked. The only solution was to burn the tokens containing the targets blood, which prompted us to launch a near-disastrous assault on the Society encampment in hopes of destroying all their trackers. That ended poorly, with Yan taking grievous injury in the attempt and the rest of us only making it out of there by the skin of our teeth, memories which prompt a flood of emotions I put aside to process later while focusing on the vital information before me. As I recall, the tracking matrix works through trigonometry, with a single device pointing towards the target, so its best to use two or more devices in different locations to pinpoint the targets actual location. Its not perfect, as they have no way to account for elevation, but using blood to set up some sort of triangulation device is quite honestly some of the most magical shit Id ever heard about since coming to this world. No one I asked knew how it worked, but to be fair, I didnt ask that many people, because in those days, I was scared shitless all the time and working really hard to get over the trauma of the chase and focus on the coming calamities instead.
No matter. I made it out in one piece, and I know one thing for certain: my foes are definitely using a tracking matrix to hone in on my location. I have no idea how I know this, Im absolutely certain this is the case, so sure it never occurs to me to question it before setting to work on a solution. None of my opponents know where I am exactly, theyre working in independent groups to keep me trapped here between them. The matrix always points in my direction, so the answer becomes clear. Intent gives purpose to the Predator as I make my presence known, expanding tendrils of my Domain which ultimately give my location away, but only to about twenty individuals. As expected, my foes do not fall upon me immediately, because even though Ive revealed myself to a third of them, they still need to pass that information along to their comrades before they can act. This leaves me plenty of time to study their movements as I dip and weave about the plains of Central, circling around in a wide loop so as not to get too far and isolated. Six Cloud-Steps later, I rescind my Domain after identifying five distinct groups amongst my foes, all moving independently yet working together to tighten the noose about my neck.
It belatedly occurs to me that I couldve hidden the presence of my Domain from my foes, the same way I slipped past my guards and away from the manor unnoticed. Just goes to show that this sort of instinctive knowing without knowing isnt perfect, but alas, its all I have to work with. I can barely direct myself to squeeze Taduks hand when taking full control of all my faculties, so I can only rely on this janky method of independent control to face my foes on the field of battle. In some ways, its similar to how I used to fight as Baledagh and Brother, with the former taking control of the body while the latter independently offering advice. Now, its just me offering Intent and the Predator taking action, that deadly killer who emerged during the final battle of Sinuji.
I still have no earthly idea why Zhen Shi chose that name for me, but it just feels right.
Its not another personality or Natal Soul. At least Im pretty sure it isnt. No, Its just me using the State of Enlightenment to the fullest extent, to the point where it feels like Im experiencing current events from two different perspectives, one which is moving in the moment, and one where time has slowed to a crawl. I think thats the answer, though it doesnt explain why the Predator can Conceal, Cloud-Step, use Domain, and other stuff without lessons or practice...
Questions best left for another time, for the jaws of this deadly trap are fast closing in around me. Five groups, five matrices, and every group is running directly towards me at all times. However, I know the tracker only indicates direction, because if it told them any more, they wouldnt need more than one to find me, information I can use to my advantage. Though Ive rescinded my tendrils of Domain, I still remember where each group is, and unlike them, I know which direction my quarry is headed: straight towards me. Thus, all that is left to do is to set the Predator upon them with the darkest of Intents.
I made Peace a part of me. I am the sword. The sword is me. Did the ceremony really take place in my mind? Im not so sure anymore...
Yanking the Wraith blade out of my stomach, I give it a once over before ruling it out as an option. The Wraith blade reminded me of Peace, but this is a killing tool, a dark, ugly thing of murder and suffering. Dad gifted me Peace when I was thirteen, a beautifully crafted weapon forged in the likeness of his own, but that is not all it was. He gifted it to me back when I was only his Disciple and not yet his son, as I was still in my trial period as a possibly Defiled foundling, but the sword was proof he loved me like his own already. Mom took longer to come around, but Dad had already accepted me, while my sweet sister Alsantset took me into her family the second she spotted me limping alongside the riverbed. All this and more is what I used to think about every time I looked at Peace, but I lost that when Gen Shi ruined my weapons and shattered my Core.
Or maybe not. I am the sword. The sword is me.
Still fleeing from my pursuers with all speed, I heft the Wraith blade and use it to finish what the last assassin started, carving away the flesh of my right hand and leaving nothing but meat and exposed bone behind. Technically, I probably dont have to go this far, but suffering seems part and parcel of everything I do, which means it just doesnt feel right if it doesnt hurt. Casting the Wraith weapon behind me, I hear a metallic cling which tells me someone blocked the errant throw, but Ive already put them out of mind. Closing my eyes and blocking out the wind whipping through my robes, I envision myself as I was all those years ago, when Dad first gave me Peace like it was a cabbage he picked up in the market, rather than a priceless gift he was eager to give to the son he loved so much. There I stood, with Peace hanging from my belt, the hilt in my right hand as I readied to strike down my nemesis and training partner, Sir Woody Woodson. Ive since knighted him as he died in combat, but for a short period of time, he became my most hated foe. I spent many an hour that first week, wielding Peace and chipping away at Woody Woodson and his many clones in an effort to replicate Dads feat, as he used the very same sword in my hand to cleave clean through a metal block.
Those were the best of times, my years in the village, and it was a long time before I realized it. Even tainted by the knowledge that everyone suspected I was Defiled, I still miss those simple days, when I wandered the forest with only Pafu and Suret for company and didnt know I had Concealed Warriors watching my every move. I trained with Dad, studied with Taduk, played with the twins and kept Lin-Lin company, all while slowly recovering from my time in the mines.
Reliving these memories elicit new emotions from within, emotions I long since forgot about and subsequently severed away some three months ago. A mistake, I see this now, because those emotions are every bit as precious as the memories they accompany, perhaps even more so because memories can be forgotten, but those emotions will stay with me forever. Peace was a symbol of those emotions, of the loving gift I received from my socially awkward Dad, the help Mila and Husolt gave without question, and even the battles I fought and the victories I won with Peace in hand. I Guided this sword into Situ Gulongs shin, and then beat him unconscious before extorting his comrades. I used this sword in a duel against Zhong Lang, Elder Mings beloved nephew who I killed when I could have instead let him live. I did it because I was angry, but I couldnt kill an unarmed man, so I gave him his weapon back and forced him to fight. The wrong move, not because of the consequences which followed, but because that was a life I could have spared, and I didnt. Thats not me. Thats not why I wield Peace, and while I want to say that this one mistake is the only one I made, Im not so sure thats the case.
These memories and more flow through my mind as I Heal my injured hand. The pain from growing new flesh is barely noticeable, but the experiences from my memories are fresh as the day I lived them. My victories, my failures, my accomplishments and mistakes, I had Peace by my side in almost all of them, right up until I lost it. Even then, I tried to keep my broken sword safe, because I thought there might be some way to fix them, so long as I fixed my shattered Core in time. That didnt happen, as the remains of my Spiritual Weapon were scattered to the winds when those half-step Divinity Wraiths came for the Legates head, and a part of me died that day. I wanted to become strong again, to wield Peace, Tranquility, and Unity on the battlefield once again, for they were comrades just like everyone else I fought alongside.
I thought that dream died the day I lost my weapons.
I was wrong.
I am the sword. The sword is me.
As I set Panacea to Heal my hand, I task it to Heal Peace as well, for though it was crafted from cold steel, it is still a part of my very being, to the point where my Soul could call upon it even while trapped within Beis Natal Palace. I remember it now, the thrill and exultation I felt while fighting off hordes of Spectres with my blade of shining light, with Peace illuminating the darkness of the Void and banishing the cold around me. The cold steel is not what makes Peace my Spiritual Weapon, but rather the bond we share as weapon and wielder, a bond forged during my Binding Ceremony and quenched in blood.
I was wrong to say the Binding Ceremony isnt real. It doesnt take place in reality, but its still real, for like the title suggests, a bond between Warrior and Spiritual Weapon is one forged in the Soul.
Time passes. A minute, an hour, a day, I don't know how long.
My nerves tingle, from my scalp down to my toes.
The pores on my skin open.
I feel safe. Alive. Accepted. Protected.
Nestled in the warm embrace of the Mother.
I open my eyes and smile as I greet my old friend, Peace exactly as I remember it, reforged through Panacea minus the lovely wrapped hilt and decoration. Mila can wrap it again later, but first, I have some business to take care of now that Ive found my fangs again.
Peace. I rejected it at first, feared having to pick up the sword to use against my foes, feared I would instead turn it against myself. Peace is a weapon, but it is also a deterrent, a tool to protect and defend those who cannot protect themselves. Though I use it to kill, I only kill in search of peace, a lesson Ive learned and forgotten too many times to count, but this time, I wont forget.
My foes have come to kill me and kill those I love, so I will deliver them Peace, so that I might one day find peace for myself.
I am Falling Rain, and this is my Path. The Path of the peace-keeper, protector, guardian, and Sentinel. Path of the Legate, Path of the revolutionary, Path of a man who seeks a better future for all. This is who I am, and it is high time I stopped fighting it, because despite my lofty ideals, I know my Path will be long and bloody indeed.
But such is life, trials and tribulations abound, so its high time I stopped complaining, and started taking steps in the right direction.
Starting with the fifty-one remaining stepping stones so conveniently hot on my heels...
Chapter Meme
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Chapter 663
Fight or flight is very different when youre no longer beholden to bodily instincts.
Almost everyone has experienced it at one time or another. Danger or excitement presents itself, and the world slows down until it stops. The pounding of your beating heart echoes in your ears as it sends a spike of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your mouth dries, your skin goes clammy, your body shakes, and your mind is either racing at a million thoughts per minute or silent as the grave, rendered helpless by the staggering overflow of information presenting itself. These circumstances are not meant to encourage careful deliberation and rational thought, but rather instinct and reaction, readying your body to do the aforementioned fight or flight.
The problem is, the foundations for basic human instinct were laid down back when we were naked, fire-worshipping cave-dwellers. Humanity has come a long way since then, and while our instincts served us well back when we competed with wolves and tigers for food and shelter, theyre all sorts of useless for the modern-day warrior. Even here and now in the Empire, where we fight with spears and bows rather than tanks and rifles, most of a soldiers training is meant to counteract instinctual behaviour. When faced with an overwhelming horde of enemies, for most, their instincts will be screaming at them to charge forward and fight or break ranks and run, but a soldiers training teaches them to stand fast and hold strong. When fighting as a unit, ten average Martial Warriors should easily fend off forty to fifty average Defiled tribesmen, simply by virtue of combined arms and cooperation, the effectiveness of which only scales up from there. A hundred infantry cant do much against a thousand Defiled, and it might well look like all hope is lost, but if those infantry were to follow their instincts and start running for hills, the three-hundred heavy cavalry waiting in the wings wont have a nice, clumped up crowd of Defiled to hammer away at.
What Im trying to get at is, when it comes to warfare, base instincts are rarely correct. If they were even remotely effective, then training and experience wouldnt be so important. Ive been fighting in this particular war since I was sixteen, and I still dont have it all down pat, because here and now, my first instinct is to cut and run. Flee back to the District and seek shelter in the manor, where my family and guards can protect me. A dumb move, if I were to make it, because not only would I be putting innocent civilians and noncombatants in danger, I would also be leading a squad of readied assassins towards my sleeping loved ones, which I fear would not end well for them. These killers came prepared to face not just me and my guards, but also Dad, Akanai, Grandpa Du, and all the other notable Warriors in my family. They sent sixty killers, which means they either dont have any more to spare, or they thought sixty was enough to finish the job.
So in a way, me coming out here to get stabbed wasnt the worst thing in the world, assuming I survive of course.
This is the conclusion I come to as I stare into my would-be killers hazel eyes, brimming with suspicion and disbelief. Hes surprised because he didnt think itd be this easy, that I would just leave my bastion of safety and come out to meet him alone, unarmed, and unprompted. Much like with everyone else, this mans thoughts and emotions are all right there for anyone to read, though Im still not entirely sure how Im able to pick up on it. Its just... there, as perceptible as a scent in the air or a breeze across my skin, just something I know and understand as easily as breathing. There is no remorse in him, no regret or sympathy, only professional concern and curiosity as to why his targets behaviour is so unexpected. Beneath it all, lies a bed of relief, because the task hed been given was not an easy one, and hes glad everything worked out. Murderer though he might be, hes glad this mission turned out so well, because the alternative wouldve left many of his comrades dead or injured.
But his relief is measured and muted, because he knows his job is not yet done. Theres more to his mission, and hes already thinking about how to best carry it out, because there are still others he has yet to kill.
Its been three months since I lapsed into this coma, three months since Zhen Shi trapped me in a lifetime of suffering, and three months since I severed everything and anything in order to retreat into the Void. This morning, I Devoured all my nearby Natal Souls and took in all the sorrow, misery, anguish, and regret Id severed away in recent weeks. Then, I spent every second from lunch onwards submerged in joy, love, and floof in order to Balance all that gloom and doom, but still it wasnt enough. Now, thanks to these assassins, I am able to experience what is left in the gamut of human emotion, the darker, more malevolent side that lurks just beneath the surface of our minds.
These bastards were sent here to kill not just me, but also the people I love. I dont know if they have specific targets or if they were ordered to kill everyone and leave no survivors, but regardless of their intent, I will not allow them to even try.
Fuelled by black hatred masquerading as righteous fury, my fist hurtles towards the handsome assassins face, and my heart soars with joy and satisfaction as I watch his features crater beneath the impact. The warm spray of blood and bone sets my skin to tingling as I take in the heady, metallic scent of death and marvel at my newfangled toughness. Despite exploding my foes head with a single punch, my hand is neither bruised nor scratched, protected by my emerging Domain and the rough, yet pliable skin resulting from weeks of carefully measured medicinal baths. While a sharp knife will still cut me, I could spend hours punching solid steel without scuffing my knuckles, much less breaking my hand like expected, for which I have Taduk, Taiyi Zhushen, and Li TieGuai to thank.
Bodily refinement, high cost for minimal gains, but Ill take every advantage I can get.
As my Domain billows out into the murky darkness, it reveals the general distribution of my foes as their emerging Domains materialize to obstruct my own, forming a cage to prevent both sound and Sending from passing through. Though I am unable to sense the exact locations of every assassin here on the plains, its easy to sense where their resistance is weakest, the same way I can tell the difference between a sturdy wooden door and a paper one through mere touch. Somewhat unsurprisingly, the weakest point is due north, while the strongest resistance is due south, which is where they expect me to run if given the chance. More proof that instincts arent always reliable, but east and west are only slightly less guarded, as the Sentinel camp lies in the first direction, and an Imperial training camp in the other, while to the north, there is nothing but farms and grassland, with the occasional handful of houses to break up the monotony.
My foes mean to herd me away from the District, away from safety and reinforcements, but while they think theyve got me trapped here on the plains, they will soon learn that our roles are reversed.
For I am the Predator, and they, nothing more than prey.
A single bound brings me away from my headless foe, which still stands despite my lengthy introspection. More importantly, it brings me out of sight as I disappear before their very eyes, rescinding my Domain until it barely extends past my skin. This leaves me blind to their presence, but it does the same to my foes as I slink into Concealment and scurry through the frosted grass, an eager predator searching for a chance to strike. Numbers mean little in a battle like this, for the same darkness they used to hide their approach has now turned against them to assist me. Defiled see better than Imperials in the dark, but even they need some light to see, and with heavy clouds obscuring both moon and stars, I can barely see my hand in front of my eyes. It will be the same or possibly worse for them, and while my Domain is large enough to uncover them all in a single sweep, none of them can say the same.
As I lead my foes on a roundabout chase, I go over my options, of which there are precious few. I have no weapons and no means to obtain one, aside from the black blade still embedded in my flesh. Poison seeps into my blood and targets my nerves with its paralytic agent, but a simple working of Chi and Panacea breaks down the insidious toxin into harmless waste products, which will later be filtered out by my liver and kidneys. Ill be pissing black sludge later and will need to drink plenty of fluids to flush it all out, but I cant afford to remove the blade just yet, not before I figure out how theyre tracking me. Its unmistakable now, because as we move ever northward at breakneck speeds, I can sense they arent even trying to find me through Domain, but rather honing in on my position no matter how many twists and turns I take and moving to ensnare me within their web.
Each step brings me hundreds of meters away, but still I remain trapped within their encirclement. Worse, theyre closing in around me, and if I go too far in any direction, I will be caught in their metaphysical trap and cut down as I pass. How irritating. I cant kill them if they know Im coming, especially not injured and weaponless as I am, but I dont understand how they keep finding me. The Empire has some secretive means to track Officers tokens and such, but I dont have mine on me, nor am I wearing anything given to me by the Imperials. Sight, scent, and sound are all covered by Concealment, while Ive yet to feel them even try to find me through Domain, not that they could if they tried, which leaves...
Ah right. Ive encountered this before, in what feels like a lifetime ago, with killers hot on my trail no matter how carefully I ran. The Society used some of Songs blood to create some sort of mystical tracking matrix, one which they claimed could not be blocked. The only solution was to burn the tokens containing the targets blood, which prompted us to launch a near-disastrous assault on the Society encampment in hopes of destroying all their trackers. That ended poorly, with Yan taking grievous injury in the attempt and the rest of us only making it out of there by the skin of our teeth, memories which prompt a flood of emotions I put aside to process later while focusing on the vital information before me. As I recall, the tracking matrix works through trigonometry, with a single device pointing towards the target, so its best to use two or more devices in different locations to pinpoint the targets actual location. Its not perfect, as they have no way to account for elevation, but using blood to set up some sort of triangulation device is quite honestly some of the most magical shit Id ever heard about since coming to this world. No one I asked knew how it worked, but to be fair, I didnt ask that many people, because in those days, I was scared shitless all the time and working really hard to get over the trauma of the chase and focus on the coming calamities instead.
No matter. I made it out in one piece, and I know one thing for certain: my foes are definitely using a tracking matrix to hone in on my location. I have no idea how I know this, Im absolutely certain this is the case, so sure it never occurs to me to question it before setting to work on a solution. None of my opponents know where I am exactly, theyre working in independent groups to keep me trapped here between them. The matrix always points in my direction, so the answer becomes clear. Intent gives purpose to the Predator as I make my presence known, expanding tendrils of my Domain which ultimately give my location away, but only to about twenty individuals. As expected, my foes do not fall upon me immediately, because even though Ive revealed myself to a third of them, they still need to pass that information along to their comrades before they can act. This leaves me plenty of time to study their movements as I dip and weave about the plains of Central, circling around in a wide loop so as not to get too far and isolated. Six Cloud-Steps later, I rescind my Domain after identifying five distinct groups amongst my foes, all moving independently yet working together to tighten the noose about my neck.
It belatedly occurs to me that I couldve hidden the presence of my Domain from my foes, the same way I slipped past my guards and away from the manor unnoticed. Just goes to show that this sort of instinctive knowing without knowing isnt perfect, but alas, its all I have to work with. I can barely direct myself to squeeze Taduks hand when taking full control of all my faculties, so I can only rely on this janky method of independent control to face my foes on the field of battle. In some ways, its similar to how I used to fight as Baledagh and Brother, with the former taking control of the body while the latter independently offering advice. Now, its just me offering Intent and the Predator taking action, that deadly killer who emerged during the final battle of Sinuji.
I still have no earthly idea why Zhen Shi chose that name for me, but it just feels right.
Its not another personality or Natal Soul. At least Im pretty sure it isnt. No, Its just me using the State of Enlightenment to the fullest extent, to the point where it feels like Im experiencing current events from two different perspectives, one which is moving in the moment, and one where time has slowed to a crawl. I think thats the answer, though it doesnt explain why the Predator can Conceal, Cloud-Step, use Domain, and other stuff without lessons or practice...
Questions best left for another time, for the jaws of this deadly trap are fast closing in around me. Five groups, five matrices, and every group is running directly towards me at all times. However, I know the tracker only indicates direction, because if it told them any more, they wouldnt need more than one to find me, information I can use to my advantage. Though Ive rescinded my tendrils of Domain, I still remember where each group is, and unlike them, I know which direction my quarry is headed: straight towards me. Thus, all that is left to do is to set the Predator upon them with the darkest of Intents.
I made Peace a part of me. I am the sword. The sword is me. Did the ceremony really take place in my mind? Im not so sure anymore...
Yanking the Wraith blade out of my stomach, I give it a once over before ruling it out as an option. The Wraith blade reminded me of Peace, but this is a killing tool, a dark, ugly thing of murder and suffering. Dad gifted me Peace when I was thirteen, a beautifully crafted weapon forged in the likeness of his own, but that is not all it was. He gifted it to me back when I was only his Disciple and not yet his son, as I was still in my trial period as a possibly Defiled foundling, but the sword was proof he loved me like his own already. Mom took longer to come around, but Dad had already accepted me, while my sweet sister Alsantset took me into her family the second she spotted me limping alongside the riverbed. All this and more is what I used to think about every time I looked at Peace, but I lost that when Gen Shi ruined my weapons and shattered my Core.
Or maybe not. I am the sword. The sword is me.
Still fleeing from my pursuers with all speed, I heft the Wraith blade and use it to finish what the last assassin started, carving away the flesh of my right hand and leaving nothing but meat and exposed bone behind. Technically, I probably dont have to go this far, but suffering seems part and parcel of everything I do, which means it just doesnt feel right if it doesnt hurt. Casting the Wraith weapon behind me, I hear a metallic cling which tells me someone blocked the errant throw, but Ive already put them out of mind. Closing my eyes and blocking out the wind whipping through my robes, I envision myself as I was all those years ago, when Dad first gave me Peace like it was a cabbage he picked up in the market, rather than a priceless gift he was eager to give to the son he loved so much. There I stood, with Peace hanging from my belt, the hilt in my right hand as I readied to strike down my nemesis and training partner, Sir Woody Woodson. Ive since knighted him as he died in combat, but for a short period of time, he became my most hated foe. I spent many an hour that first week, wielding Peace and chipping away at Woody Woodson and his many clones in an effort to replicate Dads feat, as he used the very same sword in my hand to cleave clean through a metal block.
Those were the best of times, my years in the village, and it was a long time before I realized it. Even tainted by the knowledge that everyone suspected I was Defiled, I still miss those simple days, when I wandered the forest with only Pafu and Suret for company and didnt know I had Concealed Warriors watching my every move. I trained with Dad, studied with Taduk, played with the twins and kept Lin-Lin company, all while slowly recovering from my time in the mines.
Reliving these memories elicit new emotions from within, emotions I long since forgot about and subsequently severed away some three months ago. A mistake, I see this now, because those emotions are every bit as precious as the memories they accompany, perhaps even more so because memories can be forgotten, but those emotions will stay with me forever. Peace was a symbol of those emotions, of the loving gift I received from my socially awkward Dad, the help Mila and Husolt gave without question, and even the battles I fought and the victories I won with Peace in hand. I Guided this sword into Situ Gulongs shin, and then beat him unconscious before extorting his comrades. I used this sword in a duel against Zhong Lang, Elder Mings beloved nephew who I killed when I could have instead let him live. I did it because I was angry, but I couldnt kill an unarmed man, so I gave him his weapon back and forced him to fight. The wrong move, not because of the consequences which followed, but because that was a life I could have spared, and I didnt. Thats not me. Thats not why I wield Peace, and while I want to say that this one mistake is the only one I made, Im not so sure thats the case.
These memories and more flow through my mind as I Heal my injured hand. The pain from growing new flesh is barely noticeable, but the experiences from my memories are fresh as the day I lived them. My victories, my failures, my accomplishments and mistakes, I had Peace by my side in almost all of them, right up until I lost it. Even then, I tried to keep my broken sword safe, because I thought there might be some way to fix them, so long as I fixed my shattered Core in time. That didnt happen, as the remains of my Spiritual Weapon were scattered to the winds when those half-step Divinity Wraiths came for the Legates head, and a part of me died that day. I wanted to become strong again, to wield Peace, Tranquility, and Unity on the battlefield once again, for they were comrades just like everyone else I fought alongside.
I thought that dream died the day I lost my weapons.
I was wrong.
I am the sword. The sword is me.
As I set Panacea to Heal my hand, I task it to Heal Peace as well, for though it was crafted from cold steel, it is still a part of my very being, to the point where my Soul could call upon it even while trapped within Beis Natal Palace. I remember it now, the thrill and exultation I felt while fighting off hordes of Spectres with my blade of shining light, with Peace illuminating the darkness of the Void and banishing the cold around me. The cold steel is not what makes Peace my Spiritual Weapon, but rather the bond we share as weapon and wielder, a bond forged during my Binding Ceremony and quenched in blood.
I was wrong to say the Binding Ceremony isnt real. It doesnt take place in reality, but its still real, for like the title suggests, a bond between Warrior and Spiritual Weapon is one forged in the Soul.
Time passes. A minute, an hour, a day, I don't know how long.
My nerves tingle, from my scalp down to my toes.
The pores on my skin open.
I feel safe. Alive. Accepted. Protected.
Nestled in the warm embrace of the Mother.
I open my eyes and smile as I greet my old friend, Peace exactly as I remember it, reforged through Panacea minus the lovely wrapped hilt and decoration. Mila can wrap it again later, but first, I have some business to take care of now that Ive found my fangs again.
Peace. I rejected it at first, feared having to pick up the sword to use against my foes, feared I would instead turn it against myself. Peace is a weapon, but it is also a deterrent, a tool to protect and defend those who cannot protect themselves. Though I use it to kill, I only kill in search of peace, a lesson Ive learned and forgotten too many times to count, but this time, I wont forget.
My foes have come to kill me and kill those I love, so I will deliver them Peace, so that I might one day find peace for myself.
I am Falling Rain, and this is my Path. The Path of the peace-keeper, protector, guardian, and Sentinel. Path of the Legate, Path of the revolutionary, Path of a man who seeks a better future for all. This is who I am, and it is high time I stopped fighting it, because despite my lofty ideals, I know my Path will be long and bloody indeed.
But such is life, trials and tribulations abound, so its high time I stopped complaining, and started taking steps in the right direction.
Starting with the fifty-one remaining stepping stones so conveniently hot on my heels...
Chapter Meme
Chapter 663Fight or flight is very different when youre no longer beholden to bodily instincts.Almost everyone has experienced it at one time or another. Danger or excitement presents itself, and the world slows down until it stops. The pounding of your beating heart echoes in your ears as it sends a spike of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your mouth dries, your skin goes clammy, your body shakes, and your mind is either racing at a million thoughts per minute or silent as the grave, rendered helpless by the staggering overflow of information presenting itself. These circumstances are not meant to encourage careful deliberation and rational thought, but rather instinct and reaction, readying your body to do the aforementioned fight or flight.The problem is, the foundations for basic human instinct were laid down back when we were naked, fire-worshipping cave-dwellers. Humanity has come a long way since then, and while our instincts served us well back when we competed with wolves and tigers for food and shelter, theyre all sorts of useless for the modern-day warrior. Even here and now in the Empire, where we fight with spears and bows rather than tanks and rifles, most of a soldiers training is meant to counteract instinctual behaviour. When faced with an overwhelming horde of enemies, for most, their instincts will be screaming at them to charge forward and fight or break ranks and run, but a soldiers training teaches them to stand fast and hold strong. When fighting as a unit, ten average Martial Warriors should easily fend off forty to fifty average Defiled tribesmen, simply by virtue of combined arms and cooperation, the effectiveness of which only scales up from there. A hundred infantry cant do much against a thousand Defiled, and it might well look like all hope is lost, but if those infantry were to follow their instincts and start running for hills, the three-hundred heavy cavalry waiting in the wings wont have a nice, clumped up crowd of Defiled to hammer away at.What Im trying to get at is, when it comes to warfare, base instincts are rarely correct. If they were even remotely effective, then training and experience wouldnt be so important. Ive been fighting in this particular war since I was sixteen, and I still dont have it all down pat, because here and now, my first instinct is to cut and run. Flee back to the District and seek shelter in the manor, where my family and guards can protect me. A dumb move, if I were to make it, because not only would I be putting innocent civilians and noncombatants in danger, I would also be leading a squad of readied assassins towards my sleeping loved ones, which I fear would not end well for them. These killers came prepared to face not just me and my guards, but also Dad, Akanai, Grandpa Du, and all the other notable Warriors in my family. They sent sixty killers, which means they either dont have any more to spare, or they thought sixty was enough to finish the job.So in a way, me coming out here to get stabbed wasnt the worst thing in the world, assuming I survive of course.This is the conclusion I come to as I stare into my would-be killers hazel eyes, brimming with suspicion and disbelief. Hes surprised because he didnt think itd be this easy, that I would just leave my bastion of safety and come out to meet him alone, unarmed, and unprompted. Much like with everyone else, this mans thoughts and emotions are all right there for anyone to read, though Im still not entirely sure how Im able to pick up on it. Its just... there, as perceptible as a scent in the air or a breeze across my skin, just something I know and understand as easily as breathing. There is no remorse in him, no regret or sympathy, only professional concern and curiosity as to why his targets behaviour is so unexpected. Beneath it all, lies a bed of relief, because the task hed been given was not an easy one, and hes glad everything worked out. Murderer though he might be, hes glad this mission turned out so well, because the alternative wouldve left many of his comrades dead or injured.But his relief is measured and muted, because he knows his job is not yet done. Theres more to his mission, and hes already thinking about how to best carry it out, because there are still others he has yet to kill.Its been three months since I lapsed into this coma, three months since Zhen Shi trapped me in a lifetime of suffering, and three months since I severed everything and anything in order to retreat into the Void. This morning, I Devoured all my nearby Natal Souls and took in all the sorrow, misery, anguish, and regret Id severed away in recent weeks. Then, I spent every second from lunch onwards submerged in joy, love, and floof in order to Balance all that gloom and doom, but still it wasnt enough. Now, thanks to these assassins, I am able to experience what is left in the gamut of human emotion, the darker, more malevolent side that lurks just beneath the surface of our minds.These bastards were sent here to kill not just me, but also the people I love. I dont know if they have specific targets or if they were ordered to kill everyone and leave no survivors, but regardless of their intent, I will not allow them to even try.Fuelled by black hatred masquerading as righteous fury, my fist hurtles towards the handsome assassins face, and my heart soars with joy and satisfaction as I watch his features crater beneath the impact. The warm spray of blood and bone sets my skin to tingling as I take in the heady, metallic scent of death and marvel at my newfangled toughness. Despite exploding my foes head with a single punch, my hand is neither bruised nor scratched, protected by my emerging Domain and the rough, yet pliable skin resulting from weeks of carefully measured medicinal baths. While a sharp knife will still cut me, I could spend hours punching solid steel without scuffing my knuckles, much less breaking my hand like expected, for which I have Taduk, Taiyi Zhushen, and Li TieGuai to thank.Bodily refinement, high cost for minimal gains, but Ill take every advantage I can get.As my Domain billows out into the murky darkness, it reveals the general distribution of my foes as their emerging Domains materialize to obstruct my own, forming a cage to prevent both sound and Sending from passing through. Though I am unable to sense the exact locations of every assassin here on the plains, its easy to sense where their resistance is weakest, the same way I can tell the difference between a sturdy wooden door and a paper one through mere touch. Somewhat unsurprisingly, the weakest point is due north, while the strongest resistance is due south, which is where they expect me to run if given the chance. More proof that instincts arent always reliable, but east and west are only slightly less guarded, as the Sentinel camp lies in the first direction, and an Imperial training camp in the other, while to the north, there is nothing but farms and grassland, with the occasional handful of houses to break up the monotony.My foes mean to herd me away from the District, away from safety and reinforcements, but while they think theyve got me trapped here on the plains, they will soon learn that our roles are reversed.For I am the Predator, and they, nothing more than prey.A single bound brings me away from my headless foe, which still stands despite my lengthy introspection. More importantly, it brings me out of sight as I disappear before their very eyes, rescinding my Domain until it barely extends past my skin. This leaves me blind to their presence, but it does the same to my foes as I slink into Concealment and scurry through the frosted grass, an eager predator searching for a chance to strike. Numbers mean little in a battle like this, for the same darkness they used to hide their approach has now turned against them to assist me. Defiled see better than Imperials in the dark, but even they need some light to see, and with heavy clouds obscuring both moon and stars, I can barely see my hand in front of my eyes. It will be the same or possibly worse for them, and while my Domain is large enough to uncover them all in a single sweep, none of them can say the same.As I lead my foes on a roundabout chase, I go over my options, of which there are precious few. I have no weapons and no means to obtain one, aside from the black blade still embedded in my flesh. Poison seeps into my blood and targets my nerves with its paralytic agent, but a simple working of Chi and Panacea breaks down the insidious toxin into harmless waste products, which will later be filtered out by my liver and kidneys. Ill be pissing black sludge later and will need to drink plenty of fluids to flush it all out, but I cant afford to remove the blade just yet, not before I figure out how theyre tracking me. Its unmistakable now, because as we move ever northward at breakneck speeds, I can sense they arent even trying to find me through Domain, but rather honing in on my position no matter how many twists and turns I take and moving to ensnare me within their web.Each step brings me hundreds of meters away, but still I remain trapped within their encirclement. Worse, theyre closing in around me, and if I go too far in any direction, I will be caught in their metaphysical trap and cut down as I pass. How irritating. I cant kill them if they know Im coming, especially not injured and weaponless as I am, but I dont understand how they keep finding me. The Empire has some secretive means to track Officers tokens and such, but I dont have mine on me, nor am I wearing anything given to me by the Imperials. Sight, scent, and sound are all covered by Concealment, while Ive yet to feel them even try to find me through Domain, not that they could if they tried, which leaves...Ah right. Ive encountered this before, in what feels like a lifetime ago, with killers hot on my trail no matter how carefully I ran. The Society used some of Songs blood to create some sort of mystical tracking matrix, one which they claimed could not be blocked. The only solution was to burn the tokens containing the targets blood, which prompted us to launch a near-disastrous assault on the Society encampment in hopes of destroying all their trackers. That ended poorly, with Yan taking grievous injury in the attempt and the rest of us only making it out of there by the skin of our teeth, memories which prompt a flood of emotions I put aside to process later while focusing on the vital information before me. As I recall, the tracking matrix works through trigonometry, with a single device pointing towards the target, so its best to use two or more devices in different locations to pinpoint the targets actual location. Its not perfect, as they have no way to account for elevation, but using blood to set up some sort of triangulation device is quite honestly some of the most magical shit Id ever heard about since coming to this world. No one I asked knew how it worked, but to be fair, I didnt ask that many people, because in those days, I was scared shitless all the time and working really hard to get over the trauma of the chase and focus on the coming calamities instead.No matter. I made it out in one piece, and I know one thing for certain: my foes are definitely using a tracking matrix to hone in on my location. I have no idea how I know this, Im absolutely certain this is the case, so sure it never occurs to me to question it before setting to work on a solution. None of my opponents know where I am exactly, theyre working in independent groups to keep me trapped here between them. The matrix always points in my direction, so the answer becomes clear. Intent gives purpose to the Predator as I make my presence known, expanding tendrils of my Domain which ultimately give my location away, but only to about twenty individuals. As expected, my foes do not fall upon me immediately, because even though Ive revealed myself to a third of them, they still need to pass that information along to their comrades before they can act. This leaves me plenty of time to study their movements as I dip and weave about the plains of Central, circling around in a wide loop so as not to get too far and isolated. Six Cloud-Steps later, I rescind my Domain after identifying five distinct groups amongst my foes, all moving independently yet working together to tighten the noose about my neck.It belatedly occurs to me that I couldve hidden the presence of my Domain from my foes, the same way I slipped past my guards and away from the manor unnoticed. Just goes to show that this sort of instinctive knowing without knowing isnt perfect, but alas, its all I have to work with. I can barely direct myself to squeeze Taduks hand when taking full control of all my faculties, so I can only rely on this janky method of independent control to face my foes on the field of battle. In some ways, its similar to how I used to fight as Baledagh and Brother, with the former taking control of the body while the latter independently offering advice. Now, its just me offering Intent and the Predator taking action, that deadly killer who emerged during the final battle of Sinuji.I still have no earthly idea why Zhen Shi chose that name for me, but it just feels right.Its not another personality or Natal Soul. At least Im pretty sure it isnt. No, Its just me using the State of Enlightenment to the fullest extent, to the point where it feels like Im experiencing current events from two different perspectives, one which is moving in the moment, and one where time has slowed to a crawl. I think thats the answer, though it doesnt explain why the Predator can Conceal, Cloud-Step, use Domain, and other stuff without lessons or practice...Questions best left for another time, for the jaws of this deadly trap are fast closing in around me. Five groups, five matrices, and every group is running directly towards me at all times. However, I know the tracker only indicates direction, because if it told them any more, they wouldnt need more than one to find me, information I can use to my advantage. Though Ive rescinded my tendrils of Domain, I still remember where each group is, and unlike them, I know which direction my quarry is headed: straight towards me. Thus, all that is left to do is to set the Predator upon them with the darkest of Intents.I made Peace a part of me. I am the sword. The sword is me. Did the ceremony really take place in my mind? Im not so sure anymore...Yanking the Wraith blade out of my stomach, I give it a once over before ruling it out as an option. The Wraith blade reminded me of Peace, but this is a killing tool, a dark, ugly thing of murder and suffering. Dad gifted me Peace when I was thirteen, a beautifully crafted weapon forged in the likeness of his own, but that is not all it was. He gifted it to me back when I was only his Disciple and not yet his son, as I was still in my trial period as a possibly Defiled foundling, but the sword was proof he loved me like his own already. Mom took longer to come around, but Dad had already accepted me, while my sweet sister Alsantset took me into her family the second she spotted me limping alongside the riverbed. All this and more is what I used to think about every time I looked at Peace, but I lost that when Gen Shi ruined my weapons and shattered my Core.Or maybe not. I am the sword. The sword is me.Still fleeing from my pursuers with all speed, I heft the Wraith blade and use it to finish what the last assassin started, carving away the flesh of my right hand and leaving nothing but meat and exposed bone behind. Technically, I probably dont have to go this far, but suffering seems part and parcel of everything I do, which means it just doesnt feel right if it doesnt hurt. Casting the Wraith weapon behind me, I hear a metallic cling which tells me someone blocked the errant throw, but Ive already put them out of mind. Closing my eyes and blocking out the wind whipping through my robes, I envision myself as I was all those years ago, when Dad first gave me Peace like it was a cabbage he picked up in the market, rather than a priceless gift he was eager to give to the son he loved so much. There I stood, with Peace hanging from my belt, the hilt in my right hand as I readied to strike down my nemesis and training partner, Sir Woody Woodson. Ive since knighted him as he died in combat, but for a short period of time, he became my most hated foe. I spent many an hour that first week, wielding Peace and chipping away at Woody Woodson and his many clones in an effort to replicate Dads feat, as he used the very same sword in my hand to cleave clean through a metal block.Those were the best of times, my years in the village, and it was a long time before I realized it. Even tainted by the knowledge that everyone suspected I was Defiled, I still miss those simple days, when I wandered the forest with only Pafu and Suret for company and didnt know I had Concealed Warriors watching my every move. I trained with Dad, studied with Taduk, played with the twins and kept Lin-Lin company, all while slowly recovering from my time in the mines.Reliving these memories elicit new emotions from within, emotions I long since forgot about and subsequently severed away some three months ago. A mistake, I see this now, because those emotions are every bit as precious as the memories they accompany, perhaps even more so because memories can be forgotten, but those emotions will stay with me forever. Peace was a symbol of those emotions, of the loving gift I received from my socially awkward Dad, the help Mila and Husolt gave without question, and even the battles I fought and the victories I won with Peace in hand. I Guided this sword into Situ Gulongs shin, and then beat him unconscious before extorting his comrades. I used this sword in a duel against Zhong Lang, Elder Mings beloved nephew who I killed when I could have instead let him live. I did it because I was angry, but I couldnt kill an unarmed man, so I gave him his weapon back and forced him to fight. The wrong move, not because of the consequences which followed, but because that was a life I could have spared, and I didnt. Thats not me. Thats not why I wield Peace, and while I want to say that this one mistake is the only one I made, Im not so sure thats the case.These memories and more flow through my mind as I Heal my injured hand. The pain from growing new flesh is barely noticeable, but the experiences from my memories are fresh as the day I lived them. My victories, my failures, my accomplishments and mistakes, I had Peace by my side in almost all of them, right up until I lost it. Even then, I tried to keep my broken sword safe, because I thought there might be some way to fix them, so long as I fixed my shattered Core in time. That didnt happen, as the remains of my Spiritual Weapon were scattered to the winds when those half-step Divinity Wraiths came for the Legates head, and a part of me died that day. I wanted to become strong again, to wield Peace, Tranquility, and Unity on the battlefield once again, for they were comrades just like everyone else I fought alongside.I thought that dream died the day I lost my weapons.I was wrong.I am the sword. The sword is me.As I set Panacea to Heal my hand, I task it to Heal Peace as well, for though it was crafted from cold steel, it is still a part of my very being, to the point where my Soul could call upon it even while trapped within Beis Natal Palace. I remember it now, the thrill and exultation I felt while fighting off hordes of Spectres with my blade of shining light, with Peace illuminating the darkness of the Void and banishing the cold around me. The cold steel is not what makes Peace my Spiritual Weapon, but rather the bond we share as weapon and wielder, a bond forged during my Binding Ceremony and quenched in blood.I was wrong to say the Binding Ceremony isnt real. It doesnt take place in reality, but its still real, for like the title suggests, a bond between Warrior and Spiritual Weapon is one forged in the Soul.Time passes. A minute, an hour, a day, I don't know how long.My nerves tingle, from my scalp down to my toes.The pores on my skin open.I feel safe. Alive. Accepted. Protected.Nestled in the warm embrace of the Mother.I open my eyes and smile as I greet my old friend, Peace exactly as I remember it, reforged through Panacea minus the lovely wrapped hilt and decoration. Mila can wrap it again later, but first, I have some business to take care of now that Ive found my fangs again.Peace. I rejected it at first, feared having to pick up the sword to use against my foes, feared I would instead turn it against myself. Peace is a weapon, but it is also a deterrent, a tool to protect and defend those who cannot protect themselves. Though I use it to kill, I only kill in search of peace, a lesson Ive learned and forgotten too many times to count, but this time, I wont forget.My foes have come to kill me and kill those I love, so I will deliver them Peace, so that I might one day find peace for myself.I am Falling Rain, and this is my Path. The Path of the peace-keeper, protector, guardian, and Sentinel. Path of the Legate, Path of the revolutionary, Path of a man who seeks a better future for all. This is who I am, and it is high time I stopped fighting it, because despite my lofty ideals, I know my Path will be long and bloody indeed.But such is life, trials and tribulations abound, so its high time I stopped complaining, and started taking steps in the right direction.Starting with the fifty-one remaining stepping stones so conveniently hot on my heels...Chapter Meme
