For as long as Gerel could remember, he’d lived his life with one purpose in mind; to reach the pinnacle of the Martial Dao and take up arms against the Enemy.
This was his calling, a holy mission bestowed upon him by the Mother Above, to rise up and become a weapon capable of striking a blow against the Foul Father Himself and bring Balance to the world once more. That was why his trials and tribulations were difficult and demanding, for it was well known that She gave her hardest tasks to Her strongest soldiers. Adversity was his crucible, and battle his forge, and through this tempering, he would rise above his peers to one day stand at the Peak of Martial strength, which in his eyes, was merely another step in his journey to ultimately soar high into the Heavens and join hands with the Mother Above.
Truth be told, Gerel couldn’t remember where he’d first heard all this from, but it was a common enough belief that he never thought to question it, not until recently. Easy to see why, for this belief was all he’d had left to him after he lost everything he held dear. He’d been five years old when his world was shattered, and he remembered little of his life before, only that he’d been a happy child born in a happy family, with a mother, father, and grandparents who loved him so. Theirs was a family of Martial Warriors, amber-eyed denizens of the People one and all, and his parents often told him their eye colour meant they were special and marked for greatness, something Gerel simply accepted as the truth without question. Most people he knew had similar coloured eyes, so it wasn’t even anything all too out of the ordinary really, just a fact of the world like how grass was green and the sky was blue.
Things were as they should be, until one fateful night when he was startled awake by his mother as she swept him up into her arms before carrying him out into the skies, moving so quickly the wind made his eyes hurt. “Mama?” he’d asked, only to be shushed in reprimand, and he remembered how she squeezed him so tightly it almost hurt.
“Hush now, my little light,” Mama replied, not speaking out loud but through Sending. “Close your eyes and be quiet now. Can you do that for Mama?”
He remembered how scared she sounded and how her fear spilled over to him, how tightly he clung to her until his hands ached and hurt, but he did not make another sound as they fled from the safety and comfort of home. They moved through the darkness for long minutes, but not in silence, for the night was alive with the sounds of battle and bloodshed, though he’d been unable to identify it as such at the time. Clashing steel and screams of rage sent chills down his spine, but Mama stroked his hair and told him everything would be okay.
Gerel didn’t open his eyes again until he heard his father speak, his tone cold and angry like he’d never heard him before. “I told you to leave first,” he snarled, his rage rolling off him in waves as he slammed his blood-stained spear in the dirt, and to this day, Gerel remembered how the droplets of blood sparkled in the torchlight as they sailed through the air after parting from the glimmering blade. “And you delayed us for this?”
“For him. Gerel, our child and the light of my life,” Mama retorted, her words no less heated than his as she turned away to shield Gerel from his glare. She was a small woman, but no less fierce or formidable than the man she married, if not more so. “I will not leave him to be raised by cowards, Ankhbayar.”
That was his father’s name, one which meant ‘First Joy’, and he hated when people called him by it. He preferred to shorten it to Ankh, which meant Mama was purposely using his full name to make her point. Even as a child, Gerel knew this much, and he remembered peeking over Mama’s shoulder and peering through her hair to see his father visibly deflate, his fury draining as he settled back on his heels and tried to explain. “He would have been safe and well cared for, and we would have come back for him soon enough, but now we must move while burdened by him. Our brothers and sisters have left their children behind for the greater good, so how will it look when I bring my son away with us?”
Mama didn’t answer, but her actions spoke volumes as she set out with Gerel still in her arms, and he stayed silent out of fear he’d be left behind. The day before, he’d never have even considered it a possibility, for his father loved him so, always quick to smile and laugh whenever he came home with hugs and kisses aplenty. The man he saw back there was a side of his father that he’d never before seen, and he feared him so. He remembered clinging even tighter to his Mama who consoled him through Sending, telling him that she and Papa loved him more than anything in the world, and that Papa only said that because he was an important man with important duties who had to lead by example, but Gerel was merely a child of five who didn’t wholly understand. He thought he’d become a burden and that his father no longer wanted him, so he quietly sobbed in his mother’s arms and mourned the loss of his father’s love.
There was more running and more fighting, more bloodshed and death, but Gerel saw and heard little to nothing of it, for his eyes were filled with tears and his hearing muffled by sobs, which made the next memory all the more difficult to bear. Mama stroked his hair, kissed his head, and whispered “I’m sorry, little light”, and the next thing Gerel knew he was in the arms of a stranger, screaming for his Mama to come back to him. She’d abandoned him to escape, tossed him aside like all the other children who were left behind, most of whom he met later on in the orphanage. The kindly caregivers did their best to shelter them all from the repercussions of that night, tried to console them and let them all know they were loved and care for, but not everyone was so kind to the children of traitors and apostates.
Especially the other children, who were all too happy to parrot the hurtful things they’d overheard their parents say regarding that fateful night he’d been abandoned, which was how Gerel learned the harsh truth in the first place. Ankhbayar was a radical, an extremist who hated the Empire and believed that the people of the Saint’s Tribulations should secede from it. Hardly an uncommon attitude considering how little they saw of the Empire, but he did more than just rant and rave about serving a sovereign none of them had ever seen. He and many others also believed that the amber eyes of the People were the Mother’s way of marking Her chosen people for greatness, and thus they should reign over all other ‘lesser’ individuals. Separatist talk was one thing, supremacist another, and while the former was often bandied about over drinks by the various villages united under the Sentinel banner, the latter was looked down on by most. An individual’s contributions mattered more than their birthright, but Ankhbayar was charismatic enough to have a sizable following of like-minded individuals from amongst his peers and the older generations as well, most of whom were amber-eyed themselves.
Of course, while such talk was frowned upon, it would have been tolerated had he not taken to raiding Imperial caravans like a base bandit in his spare time. That was the publicly released reason for exiling so many members of the People at once, two generations of amber-eyed folk and their supporters, those including Gerel’s parents and grandparents to boot. All too many of them had fallen under the sway of Ankhbayar’s divisive rhetoric, for there was no denying the fact that the Empire looked down on the People in truth. Many still remembered how Akanai and her heroic Sentinels had gone down to Central to receive their accolades only to be hunted down and chased out of the province. They’d left home as heroes to be celebrated, yet most never made it back alive, dying not to the foul machinations of the Enemy, but at the hands of their supposed allies and countrymen instead.
This was how Ankhbayar became the face of the movement, for not only was his father one of those who’d been wronged by the Empire, he himself was also a rising dragon of his generation and a Warrior without peer, which lent weight to his words about being the Mother’s Chosen people. Of course, there was no proof that having amber eyes meant you would succeed as a Warrior, and there were many examples to draw from both in history and all around them, but most never bothered looking too deeply at the truth once they’d found a pleasant alternative to hold fast to.
All of this Gerel knew and understood now that he was a man grown, but as a child, he’d struggled to come to terms with the truth. In his eyes, his parents had been wronged and chased out of their homes, for if they’d been exiled in truth, then what need was there to attack in the middle of the night and separate them from their children as well? He spent many long, lonely, angry years lashing out at anyone who said otherwise, which meant he lashed out at everyone until they stopped speaking to him at all. This only further fueled his growing hatred for his People and the village both, for if not for them, his parents would never have abandoned him and they would still be a happy family yet. That anger was also laced with guilt aplenty, for he knew he was to blame for being a burden to his parents, and so he gave his all to the Martial Path in hopes of one day being strong enough to strike out on his own to find them.
At ten years young, Gerel Formed his Core without telling anyone and immediately prepared to ‘escape’, spending a handful of days scrounging up food to bring on his journey into the wilds. A clever child, but still a child all the same, meaning everyone watching him knew of his plans to escape and his caregivers quietly looked the other way while leaving food and water unattended for him to ‘steal’ away. Embarrassing to reflect on as a man grown, but he understood why they did what they did, because it was better to humour him and let him make this simple mistake to understand the obstacles before him rather than confine him to his room to stew in his rage. Of course, they never would have let him step foot outside unsupervised if they didn’t know he had a warden watching over him as well, someone to ensure he wouldn’t stray too far from the Mother’s light or come to any harm in the wilds.
Not that he got too far regardless. He left the orphanage an hour after bedtime and was lost before the moon reached its zenith in the night’s sky, whereupon he hunkered down in the hollow of a tree and he cried himself to sleep. Come morning, he saw that no one had come after him, which he saw as a lack of concern in his well-being, yet another betrayal which left its scars on his young heart and convinced him that he was on the right path. For three days, he wandered aimlessly down the mountain in search of his parents, which was two days longer than he’d expected to have to look. In his young mind, a week’s travel might well have taken him to the ends of the earth, so three days was a significant amount of time indeed, when in truth he was barely a two-hour ride from the village and only lost because the patrolling Sentinels had gone to great lengths to avoid him until he was ready to turn back around.
Soon enough, he ran out of food, energy, and determination as he sat himself down in the dirt and sobbed, heartbroken because he’d failed to find his parents and would soon starve to death or worse, for he’d heard many a tale of the beasts lurking in the darkness and how they loved to dine on young, tender flesh. Unloved, unwanted, and unwilling to admit defeat, Gerel sat there crying for Mother knows how long until he realized there was someone squatting before him.
A woman, with round, hazel eyes and creamy, coppery skin, as well as two furry rabbit ears dropping down on either side of her head, peering at him in undisguised curiosity. “Why are you so far from home, sweet child?” she asked, and in his misery, Gerel acted without thinking and threw himself into her embrace. Little did he know how this singular act would change his fate, for his Mentor was a woman of instinct, and it’d been many years since she’d had a child of her own to raise or a lover to hold close. “No tears now, sweet child,” she crooned, cradling him close like how Mama had held him the last time he’d seen her. “They ruin your beautiful eyes. I had a husband with eyes like yours once, and hoped our child would inherit them, but they weren’t so lucky.”
Gerel instantly formed a bond with this stranger due to her comment about his eyes alone, for it was a taboo subject to speak of for the villagers and no one had spoken of his namesake since he last saw his mother. Luck and happenstance brought them together, and from that day onward, he lived with his Mentor, the Ancestral Rabbit Hua Lie, a change which had its upsides and downsides both. Objectively speaking, she was terrible at all her motherly duties, as she expected him to feed and clean himself without prompting or oversight. She also had no interest in teaching him how to read or write, a job she fobbed off on Gerel’s Senior Martial Sister, Sarnai. The same went for the Forms, and really most of Gerel’s Martial training, with his only sparring partner being the fierce and proud Alsantset whom he eventually fell in love with, or at least, fell in love with the idea of loving. That being said, one thing his Mentor understood well was how to manage emotions, for though she was beholden to hers most of the time, she also had to know how to restrain them in times of extreme duress. She taught him how to harness his anger in battle, but more importantly, how to set it aside, to let his rage simmer in the back of his mind even when he wanted to do nothing more than act upon it, and she did so by revealing the truth of what happened that dark and fateful night, which was far worse than Gerel could ever have imagined.
The People exiled Ankhbayar and his faction, yes, but only after the fact, for there was no need to hunt them down in the dead of night if that had been the goal all along. No, Gerel’s paternal grandfather had stumbled across evidence that his son had turned Defiled, as were the majority of those people most loyal to him. That was why they set out raiding, not to strike at Imperial interests, but to commit their atrocities away from the prying eyes of Akanai’s Sentinels. The blood on Ankhbayar’s spear had belonged to Gerel’s grandfather, one who still lived in the village unbeknownst to him, the very same Naaran who stood beside him now and whose story had spurred so many of his fellow amber-eyed People to turn against the Empire itself. Naaran tried to talk sense into his son, but Ankhbayar would have none of it, and in their rage, they exchanged blows which led to the midnight escape in which Gerel’s mother abandoned him.
There was proof aplenty of their atrocities, more than Gerel could stomach, which made him all the more certain of his calling as a Martial Warrior. Of course, he didn’t have much of a choice either way, for his Mentor kicked him out of her home the day he turned twenty. Not because she didn’t love him anymore, but because she loved him too much, and as an Ancestral Rabbit, she found it all but impossible to differentiate between familial and romantic love. Even though he was still the same child she brought home all those years ago, his appearance no longer appealed to her motherly instincts and instead whispered to her womanly ones instead. That’s why they couldn’t live together anymore, for it would confuse her all too much, but visits for lessons were still fine, so long as they weren’t every day and kept their relationship cool. Having grown up with her for so many years, he understood that it was simply her nature as an Ancestral Beast and he didn’t hold it against her, for she was his Mentor and the one person who dared tell him the truth of his family’s dark past.
With no friends, family, or purpose of his own, he decided then and there to take up his holy duties and make up for the crimes of his parents by hunting down the Defiled wherever they might gather and leave none behind, but he could not bring himself to join Akanai’s Sentinels. Instead, he joined Baatar’s Iron Banner, and chafed when his grandfather soon followed suit, but Gerel refused to give the old man the time of day. Not that Naaran seemed to even care, never once approaching to explain why he felt the need to abandon his five-year-old grandson in his time of need. So what if the old man was heartbroken over his son’s betrayal? Was that reason enough to punish Gerel? For more than a decade, he thought his scarred but kindly old grandfather had absconded with the rest of them, when in fact he’d been here in the village all along, caring for his quin instead of his grandchild. That was a betrayal Gerel could never forgive, and to this day, he’d never spoken more than a handful of words with the old man, most of which were exchanged the day an amber-eyed slave child stumbled his way into their camp.
“You know what this means,” Gerel had said, his jaw clenched and chest burning with anger aplenty. “Ankhbayar is still alive and hiding nearby.”
“You think the boy’s your brother?” Naaran replied, not even bothering to look at Gerel as he stared at a child who they’d no doubt have to put down soon enough. “Difficult to tell with him so starved and injured, but he looks so much like you when you were younger…”
That was the end of their conversation, for Gerel could no longer stomach the old man’s presence, a beaten dog mourning the loss of his family yet unwilling to cherish what he still had. A fool is what he was, and Gerel would have no more of it, so instead he put his mind towards hunting down his traitorous parents instead. For years, he rode out with the Iron Banner and patrolled through the mountains slaughtering as many Defiled as he could, which usually was little more than a handful or two at a time. Far from enough to sate his fury, but his holy mission and desire to bring his parents to justice drove him ever forwards along his Path. Now, after all that time spent searching aimlessly about for his traitorous family, Gerel’s father was here standing before him, with Naaran and Falling Rain both present as well, three generations gathered here on the battlefield and standing on opposing sides.
And Rain’s response to this harrowing development? An obviously feigned and painfully drawn-out scream of distress and treating this as if it were for some kind of sick joke.
“….ooOOoooooooooo!!!” Taking a much-needed breath to reinflate his emptied lungs, Rain made a face as if he’d wasted good money to watch himself act in a play and shook his head in disgust. “Sorry, sorry, I hear it now, that was just terrible, absolutely terrible. My fault entirely, I focused too much on volume and it didn’t sound natural enough.” Pointing at their father across them with both index fingers, he continued, “You did great. Love the energy you bring and how you removed the helmet for dramatic effect, riveting stuff, but this time, instead of ‘my children’, you should use our names instead, to really drive home the point and make that connection, you know? Alrighty people, back to your stations and let’s go at this again, starting from after my last line about not expecting you to understand. Andddd… action.”
Truth be told, Rain was taking this far better than any of them expected, as jokes made in poor taste was a far better alternative to unchecked rage, pained betrayal, or lost confusion. The last thing any of them wanted was for him to be seen sympathizing with a Defiled traitor, even one that was ostensibly his father, but with Rain making light of it all in this mocking fashion, it made it all the more difficult for others to believe it to be true. There were already rumours aplenty about Gerel and Rain being brothers, but to be fair, many people also thought Charok was his brother and Alsantset his sister-in-law, which led to even more rumours about scandal and impropriety. That didn’t make Gerel any less annoyed to have to share this long-awaited moment with a little brother he never asked for nor wanted, especially considering how this was the culmination of a decades long tribulation that had plagued him for all his life.
Of course, seeing the smug smirk fall off of Ankhbayar’s face was almost worth it, and more importantly gave Gerel some much-needed time to rein in the deluge of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “You… are mocking… me?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” The very picture of contrition as he covered his mouth with both hands, Rain gasped and asked, “Was that not clear? I’ll try to be more obvious about it from here on out.” Scrunching up his face in the ugliest expression imaginable, Rain proceeded to do just that. “YoUuuU… ArrRreeE moCKinG… MeeeEEEE!!? Better?”
The boy had no sense of propriety, as a man of his station should behave with more dignity, but even Gerel had to choke back the urge to laugh. Across from them, Ankhbayar was none too amused and wholly disgruntled by Rain’s lack of respect, but rather than explode in anger, he snorted instead. “Hmph. Did you forget the face of your father? Or are you foolish enough to believe the lies the People told you? You must be, to dare do so much for a half-breed bitch and cast away the name your parents gave you.”
By now, a lull had fallen around them as the nearby soldiers struggled to listen in on the dramatic turn of events, with even the Mataram Patriarch falling back to stand alongside Ankhbayar while Baatar moved to stand with Rain. Looking up at the half-wolf, Rain greeted him with a smile so warm and loving Gerel envied him for it. “Here’s the truth. I have no idea who you are or what you’re going on about. My name is Falling Rain, son of Baatar and Sarnai.” Turning aside to help his sister to her feet, he continued, “Brother to Alsantset and Charok, Uncle to Tali and Tate, and Husband to Sumila, Du Min Yan, Mei Lin, and Zheng Luo. That’s who I am and that’s my family. Not by blood, but by choice, making us more of a family than most. There is the truth as I see it.” Passing his injured sister over to his father, Rain shed all pretense of humour and whimsy and underwent a transformation as he turned back to face the Half-Demon across from him. Gone was the smile and his easy-going demeanour, and in its place a steely grimace and a fire burning in his chest, so full of pent-up rage and resentment it was a wonder how he hid it in the first place. “As for you, you are a stranger to me, but if you are who you claim to be, namely the owner of the spunk-trumpet which sired me, then you’re also the scum-sucking shit-stain who sold me into slavery, which means you and I have a score to settle.”
It was moments like these when Gerel never doubted for a second that Rain was his brother by blood, for he was every bit as fierce and formidable as their mother, albeit far more foul mouthed than anyone had any right to be.
“You were weak and unable to live up to expectation,” Ankhbayar replied, sounding neither upset nor defensive. “I invested so much time and effort into you and had nothing to show for it, so why should I not sell you to recoup my losses?” Shrugging in a lackadaisical manner which was both familiar and infuriating, Ankhbayar smiled and continued, “Yet see how far you have come? Had I coddled you and kept you close, then you would have lived and died a failure, but the tempering of the mines enabled you to unlock the potential laying dormant within your blood, for the Mother gives her hardest tasks to her strongest soldiers.”
…So that was where Gerel heard it from, a realization which soured him greatly on his own world-view, but he still believed in his calling and holy mission.
“And what would you know of my… tempering?”
Rain’s voice grew quiet and his tone fell flat, a sure a sign as any that his anger was mounting. He had this aggravating way about him which made it all but impossible for him to take anything seriously, right up until he did and went too far. Gerel had been there that first week when they brought him back to the village, heard him cry himself to sleep and scream himself awake several times each night, but Ankhbayar was unaware of just how much hatred and enmity lay lurking just beneath the surface of Rain’s strangely calm exterior. “I know enough,” Ankhbayar replied, still wearing that infuriating half-smile that meant he thought he was being clever. “I never planned on you being purchased by the Canston Trading Group, but it was a most fortuitous coincidence to be sure. When they contacted me to make sure you hadn’t been misplaced, I told them to show you no mercy. Either you would die in obscurity or rise to the occasion, at which point you would have either furthered the cause or reclaimed the right to stand at my side once more.”
“I see.” Still as a statue, Rain stood and stared for long seconds before speaking again, and everyone in Shi Bei could feel why. The Energy of the Heavens surged all around him, roiling about as if there were a thousand Peak Experts demonstrating Purity all at once as Rain struggled with his fury. Just standing in his presence was enough to set Gerel’s skin to tingling, his Domain struggling to remain deployed beneath the pressure as the Heavens readied to rescind their authority in order to unleash all hell at Rain’s command. You wouldn’t know it from looking at him however, seeming so calm and relaxed on the surface if not for the complete and utter lack of movement as he struggled against the will of the Heavens itself. “So I suppose I should thank you for my suffering? Join you in your deranged quest to… do what exactly?”
Even now, Rain was working with a mind towards victory, buying precious seconds for his soldiers to rest while everyone stopped to listen to this exchange, one which was somehow being broadcast to them all without the signature booming echo. The Enemy’s work, no doubt, for this conversation was intended to cast doubt on Rain’s origins and perhaps even unseat him as Legate, but that was a matter for another day. No doubt Ankhbayar knew as much and truly wanted Rain to join him, and it stung that he had yet to even look Gerel in the eyes. “To overthrow the hateful Emperor of course!” Throwing his arms out to gesture at all of Shi Bei, Ankhbayar raised his voice and said, “Behold what your allegiance has earned you, the glory of dying in the defense of strangers and ingrates. Fifteen days this siege has gone on, five days longer than it would take for reinforcements to come relieve you, and yet still you stand alone. Not through any work of our own, for we are the Chosen of Heaven and would welcome the chance to slaughter more of the Emperor’s loyal dogs, but he cares not to meet us on the field of battle. Why waste his own strength when the outer provinces still have plenty to spare? You’ve pledged your loyalty to a man you’ll never meet, but are you truly so willing to die for him? Why not join us instead, as we march ever eastward to rid ourselves of this blight which calls itself the Imperial Clan, a blight which has plagued the people of the Azure Empire for too long!”
“Hmph.” Now it was Rain’s turn to sneer, and he had a wealth of practice which he put to good use as the Energy of the Heavens continued to surge all around him, a veritable tidal wave of energy to match the one he rode in on. “All you crazies are reading off the same pages, and it really shows. Seriously, who buys this bullshit?” Turning to Gerel and shaking his head in disbelief, Rain asked, “Can you believe this guy? Talking like he’s already won when he’s been here for fifteen days with nothing to show for it.”
“What do you know, child?” Rain’s dismissive attitude had touched a nerve, and Ankhbayar was no longer able to pretend otherwise. “We could take the city as easily as turning a hand, but just as you were tempered in the mines, so too are these foreign tribesmen being tempered here, for only then will they be worthy to stand among the Chosen.”
Since they were already facing one another, Gerel was quick to spot Rain’s smile as his ‘fury’ dissipated alongside the churning Energy of the Heavens. Ankhbayar saw it only a moment later and realized his mistake, as even the crazed and murderous Defiled would not be pleased to hear that all their death and sacrifice was merely meant to trim the fat, so to speak. Most didn’t understand the Common language, but their Chieftains would understand it well enough, to say nothing of the recent converts who’d lost themselves to the Father’s foul lies, and none of them would be pleased to hear that they’d been so obviously used. Turnabout was fair play however, for just as Ankhbayar tried to sow dissension in the Imperial ranks, Rain was now doing the same to the Defiled, though Gerel wasn’t sure how much of an effect it would have. Still flashing that smug smile, Rain shrugged and said, “Well far be it for me to speak up when my enemies are making a huge mistake. By all means, continue throwing yourselves upon our spears as you were. I’m sure this time things will work out differently.”
Were the Enemy an Imperial force, Bai Qi would not have the face to order the attack to resume, for doing so would be all but admitting he was sending the Defiled in to be slaughtered. It was one thing for the crazed tribesmen to rush headlong into death of their own volition, and another thing altogether to order it, and Gerel was curious to see how this would play out. One of two ways in all likelihood; either a direct assault with the Chosen or Half-Demons leading the way, or a series of issued challenges with the goal of restoring their morale and inciting bloodlust in the savage tribesmen once again.
Regardless of the outcome, that would be decided by Bai Qi, not Ankhbayar, so Gerel seized this opportunity to ask, “Where is she?”
Even after all this time, Gerel couldn’t bring himself to say her name or even call her mama again, but Ankhbayar understood well enough. “How deplorable for you not to recognize your mother, even after all these years. She’s been right here with us all along, and I can tell how much she’s missed you.” Rain’s hand shot out to clasp Gerel’s wrist while Baatar took hold of his shoulder from behind, for Ankhbayar slowly tapped his armour with his index finger while he spoke and smiled as the blood drained from Gerel’s face. “She was so distraught after being forced to leave you behind,” he continued, looking fondly down at his own chest, “By her own father-in-law no less. She never was the same again. We had other children, but none of them were able to replace you in her heart and she would inevitably reject them and want to try again. After she failed to connect with the runt beside you, she lost herself to her grief and could no longer retain her humanity, but in doing so, has transcended beyond her mortal failings.” Smiling so warmly one would think him still deeply in love, he sighed and said, “She’s still here you know? Hidden deep inside, protecting me to make up for her past failures, but I can sense her desire to protect you instead, as any mother wishes to protect her son. Would you like that son? Join me, and I will allow it.”
“Ignore him,” Rain said, speaking over Ankhbayar as Gerel struggled to stand in place, wanting nothing more than to throw himself at the hateful bastard and cut him down where he stood. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your pain. That’s what he’s here for, not to convince us to join him, but to needle us and throw us off our game, so the best way for us to respond is by keeping our cool.”
“I’ll kill him,” Gerel snarled. “Cut his head off where he stands.”
“You can’t. He’s stronger than you.” Emerging from Concealment beside him, Mentor patted his back in her own gentle way, so timid and unsure when showing emotion. Others saw her stoic demeanour and thought her cold and indifferent, but the truth was she had yet to truly understand which emotions were acceptable to share. That’s why she was always so quick to take a husband, for only then did she feel comfortable showing someone who she truly was, but now she had her sights set on the Medical Saint who was a fool who wanted nothing to do with her romantically. “Even if you do kill him,” she continued, still patting Gerel’s back and no doubt struggling to keep herself from embracing him instead, “What then? Nothing will change, for the fires of fury have embedded themselves deep in your soul, and you will only direct them towards another.” Tilting her head in curiosity, one of the few mannerisms which came to her so naturally, Mentor asked, “Why is it you mourn your mother so, when you know she was every bit as culpable as your father.”
Because she held him close and tried to bring him away. Because she wanted them to be a family. Because she was his mother, and he, her little light, and he wanted that memory to remain… untainted.
“You know,” Rain began, reluctantly and gingerly patting Gerel on the shoulder to comfort him despite seething with dejection and resentment. “Her being Defiled doesn’t make her love for you any less meaningful.” Gesturing towards the Defiled ranks, Rain switched to Sending and said, “We call them the Enemy to make it easier to hate and kill them, but while the Defiled have lost their way, they’re still human yet, else we would be facing an army of nothing but Demons. Your mother was flawed, but she loved you, and that is a truth which will never change no matter what anyone else says.”
There was a hint of melancholy in Rain’s voice, something that made Gerel suspect he knew more than he was willing to share, perhaps even more than he was willing to admit to himself, and this more than anything helped cool the flames of Gerel’s rage. From the way Ankhbayar had been speaking, it sounded like he was unaware that Rain remembered nothing of his past before he found himself in the mines, not even the name he supposedly cast aside, but it appeared that they’d spent a considerable amount of time together before then. Those memories were buried deep now, and they were Rain’s to share or keep, so Gerel would not do him the disservice of picking at old wounds and simply nodded in quiet thanks.
“Well?” Ankhbayar interjected, seemingly all too eager to put his spear to use. “Here I stand before my father and two sons, all of whom are too cowardly to accept the truth. Come then, let me put you both out of your misery and send you on to your next lives in a world freed from the dog Emperor’s oppression. Which of you would like to be first? I can’t say I have a preference, but if you are both frozen with indecision, then I will be forced to make the choice for you.”
“No need for Gerel to fight, for I will be enough.” Naaran’s voice still had that same gravelly tone Gerel remembered from his earliest years, though now it was devoid of all joy and merriment. This was a man who used to carry him around on his shoulders and bring him out for rides on his giant quin, but all that went away the night their family broke apart. Their eyes met briefly, but there were no words to be exchanged, only pain and regret reflected in his gaze before he turned to Baatar. “The Patriarch is yours. Likes to feint high and strike high. Keeps you on your toes.” Taking his stance as he faced his foe, Naaran sighed and said, “Come son. It is long past time your suffering came to an end.”
A dark smile flashed across Ankhbayar’s face, only to be replaced by a look of surprise as he was sent toppling off the battlements in a flash of steel, but not from a blow dealt by Naaran. “Excuse me,” Rain interrupted, catching the flying sword he’d thrown at Ankhbayar while pulling Naaran back by the belt, which in and of itself was a sight to behold. “This is a battlefield, not the sparring grounds, so no one will be issuing or accepting any duels today.” Another flash shot out without warning, but the Mataram Patriarch was ready to react and retreated with far more grace than his comrade. “Any Enemy Peak Experts who show their face will be open game,” Rain continued, all the while raising his Spiritual Rifle to his shoulder before unleashing a shot at the retreating YuGan, one which sent him crashing down to the sands below. “Tch. Blocked it. Stupid armour.” Finally looking up to meet everyone’s incredulous stares, he asked, “What? It only makes sense right? I’m no match for a Peak Expert in single combat, but I can still target them while they’re fighting, so why accept a duel that constrains me from acting?”
“The boy is right, for once.” Coming out of Concealment from beside them, Akanai proudly patted the boy’s cheek while glowering at Baatar and Naaran both, and it was a sight to see them visibly quail before her like scolded schoolboys caught stealing sweets. “His ability to target his foes from afar is unprecedented to say the least, and he has proven himself a threat capable of killing anyone on this battlefield. Since his arrival, the Enemy has been unable to use their Demons and loath to use their Peak Experts because they have yet to come up with a countermeasure for him. Targeting him is the best way to remove him from the board, but he is also our most guarded asset.” A pointed glare showed just how disappointed she was in Baatar’s failure to protect Rain properly, though Gerel shared at least an equal amount of blame. He never expected Alsantset to move so quickly to protect him, for her speed was unlike anything he’d ever seen from anyone short of a Divinity, much less from someone who wasn’t even a Peak Expert, but from here on out, he would stay close to Rain’s side and be ready for anything and everything.
Long seconds of silence passed as the other Peak Experts retreated under shrouds of Concealment leaving Rain and Gerel standing in plain view, all but daring the Enemy to come try for their heads. “So…” Rain drawled, never one to know when to shut his mouth. “We really brothers?”
“Only by blood,” Gerel replied, and he knew they both were less than thrilled at the prospect of having to open up to one another.
“And Naaran’s our grandfather then?” Gerel nodded, and Rain sighed and nodded as if everything made sense. “Makes sense. Guess we’ll have more to talk about over that drink that I thought. I’m not calling you big brother though.”
“So long as you don’t expect me to call you little brother either.”
“Deal.” That was the end to their conversation however, as the Enemy ranks rippled about to make room for the Chosen to approach, which was the predictable outcome everyone expected once Rain revealed his thoughts. Sending in the Defiled tribesmen unaided risked a revolt, while Peak Experts might as well be throwing their lives away if they dared fight openly in front of Rain, meaning now the Chosen would have to come out in force and risk taking heavy casualties to the Runic Cannons. Of course, the trade-off was increased pressure on the rank and file, but thus far, the Imperial soldiers of Shi Bei were holding strong and would continue to do so with Rain’s bold presence upon the battlements, his floating weapons already bobbing in place and giving away how eager he was to join the battle. Hopefully, he had more in mind than just this, because with so many Divinities gathered in one place, there was a good chance at least one of them would lose their temper and make a move, especially if their side was about to lose.
A question asked and immediately answered as Rain’s sword shot out and skewered a Wraith at fifty paces with almost contemptuous ease. Gerel hadn’t even sensed the assassin coming yet, but Rain had already acted and likely scared away the rest with a single strike. “Stupid,” he muttered, more annoyed than elated by his successful show of strength. “All these games are meant to stall and delay, but I can’t just leave to hunt down the Uniter.” Stifling a sigh, he muttered something under his breath, something so quiet Gerel suspected he was the only one who could hear Rain.
“What’s a guy gotta do to draw out him out? Break the Treaty?”
Not so alarming a statement on its own, but as Rain straightened up to consider the idea in a serious manner, it left Gerel to wonder if there was any chance of them making it out of Shi Bei alive with his crazed little brother in charge.
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Savage Divinity 
Well… This time I expected it but now to see these two dance across the field knowing that they are sacred to each other now. Whew boy, it’s about to get PHYSICAL!
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Rain once again proving why Perception is the most important skill in the game lol.
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