Sitting in the lotus position, Mila’s thoughts drifted through her mind without focusing on any one in particular. Her weight pressed down into the soft cushioned bed, the silk sheets kissing her calves. Though her eyes were closed, she sensed the afternoon sun bearing down upon her, slipping through the open window alongside the spicy, sweet scent of incense carried in on the light summer breeze. Nearby, the rhythmic sounds of Song’s breathing formed a comforting cadence, the sweet girl’s reassuring presence always welcome.

In this moment, Mila only needed to breath in, then out, and all else becomes secondary. Her stress and frustration, her needs and desires, her dreams and ambitions, they all melted away as she immersed herself in Balance, made inconsequential by her Effortless Presence. Her favoured method of meditation, the process came naturally to her from a young age, captivating her in the present moment without dwelling on the details. It was a welcome change to her normal life, inundated with all the details she’d been taught to observe, from positioning and body language to quality and workmanship. This was her escape from it all, allowing her mind a moment of tranquility in her hectic schedule of near constant training.

This was her time to heal and recuperate, and nothing else mattered.

Though talented in many areas, Healing was Mila’s greatest failing. Why bother learning when one of Mama’s healers were always nearby? Tokta loved to fuss over her, clicking his tongue and shooting Mama biting glares as he tended to her bruises or burns. Mila didn’t mind the injuries, as each one taught her a valuable lesson, like not to cross her feet while charging an opponent or always be wary of the forge even after hours of cooling. Mama didn’t push Mila too hard to learn healing, because she believed the time was better spent learning to avoid injury, and Mila agreed wholeheartedly. If forced to risk your life for victory time and time again, it was only a matter of time before death swooped in to claim you.

Rain seemed to be the exception to the rule.

Hopefully.

Outside her window, a loud clamour arose as hundreds of boots moved through the manor. Rain’s retinue barked orders and insults, trying to bring order to everything, but it only added to the noise. Her peaceful meditation broken, Mila scowled at the interruption, wincing as her healing cheek cracked and split. How maddening, even after a full day of healing, she had yet to recover from her burns. Checking her wounds in the mirror, Mila’s heart sank at the ugly visage staring back at her, all scabby and peeling skin with no sign of progress. How did Rain do it? She understood the concept of creating Panacea, but the difference in speed was astounding. Rain could have healed this burn in a handful of hours, while Mila would be stuck looking like a monster for at least another day.

Even with a hole in her face, Song looked better than Mila, a portrait of peace and serenity as she sought Balance. Song explained her method as focusing only on her breathing, silently reciting sutras to regulate everything from the movement of her abdomen to how often she drew breath. Eventually, it led to the same thing, her other perceptions drifting through without awareness, but Song’s injury was affecting her ability to find Balance, because of the air escaping out her cheek with every breath. Still, the results spoke for themselves and it pleased Mila to know Yan was in good hands with Du Min Gyu.

Covering her face in bandages, Mila prepared to go out and see what all the fuss was about. Though Rain claimed not to care about her appearance, she was still a young maiden yet to be wed. How could she expose her betrothed to such hideousness? Though she moved quietly as possible, when she opened the door, Song darted up to join her, always at her side. At least she stopped calling Mila Master, Song’s progress slow, but steady as she recovered from her cruel and inhuman treatment.

Smiling at Song, Mila took her by the hand and strolled out, still annoyed by the interruption. Chaos and disorder awaited her as she stared out at hundreds of injured strangers moving into their manor. Spotting Rain, Mila stomped over to demand an answer. The People’s contributions were anything but minor and Sanshu had plenty of space, so why were they forced to share their camp with strangers?

Forestalling her angered interrogation, Rain smiled as she approached, opening his arms for a hug. Smacking them aside, she muttered, “Not in front of strangers.” Losing the upper hand, she blushed as he brushed her hair behind her ear, the idiot showing the world her dreadful injuries. “What’s happening? Who are all these people?”

“Good to see you too my love.” His smirk melted her anger as he took her free hand, nodding in greeting at Song. “These people,” he said, gesturing around him, “Are the remnants of the Mother’s Militia and the newest members of my retinue. I get a thousand right? This is like... half that. Probably less. Ugh, I’m gonna go broke buying them quins...”

Stunned by his answer, Mila closed her eyes and shut her mouth, reining in her outrage. This idiot, did he never learn? First he befriends a bunch of cripples and layabouts and now he seeks bandits and cutthroats to fill his ranks? Hardly an improvement, even if these bandits seemed marginally stronger, with a few dozen spiritual weapons scattered among them.

“What’s the matter love? The vein on your forehead is throbbing through the bandages.”

Unable to stay angry no matter how hard she tried, Mila sighed. “Rain,” she said, looking into his concerned, amber eyes. “You are the cleverest idiot I’ve ever met. You’re a Second Grade Warrant Officer, which means more people of influence will take note of you. A retinue of a thousand elites is nothing to sneeze at, but you’ve chosen these, these... Ruffians to stand at your side! Why?” This was an honour which should have gone to the Sentinels, and it hurt to know Rain thought so little of his people.

Sighing, Rain brought her hand to his lips. “Couldn’t be helped. Your ‘noble bandit’ asked me to look after Jorani, and these ruffians are all Oathsworn to follow him for the next few years. Couldn’t really leave them to go back to their bandit ways, now can I?” Switching to Sending, he told her about his meeting with the Ascendant. Puffing her cheeks, Mila pouted as she considered Rain’s story.

No wonder the Azure Ascendants cared nothing for the backgrounds of those they robbed. It took away from the romance of it all, since no one wanted to cross an unbound ancestral beast, especially one strong enough to claim a territory encompassing a city, much less its surroundings. Mila had never met an ancestral beast but she’d heard stories, and seeing Rain’s smitten look made her giggle. At least this one was a man, knowing Rain, he’d probably lose control if it’d been a woman.

“Fine,” she said once his story concluded. “You had no choice to accept Jorani, but what about the rest of them?”

“I figured we’d need all the help we can get. Not like we can stroll home and ask your mom for a thousand Sentinels.”

Ah. Right. The Bridge was under siege. Resisting the urge to cringe, Mila’s cheeks reddened as she nodded. “I see. You’ve a long road ahead. Strength isn’t the only requirement for a soldier, you must make sure they’ll obey orders. Will you make them swear an oath?”

“I was thinking they get the same treatment as the first bunch.” Falling silent, Rain grieved the loss of his soldiers, a kind soul unsuited for war. Capable of being responsible and serious while also oddly childish and naive, she found him both irritating and endearing, and loved him all the more for it. Pulling him in for a hug, she squeezed him tightly, smiling as he kissed her forehead. “Thanks love.” Shaking his head, he continued. “But yea, same oaths as the others, I had Bulat and Ravil set it up, so now we wait and see how many accept. Those that don't are still stuck with us for a few years, but I'll find non-combat roles for them.”

“A good start,” Mila mumbled, snuggled against his chest. Remembering they were in public, she jolted back, ignoring his smirk. “A thousand-man retinue is worlds apart from a hundred. There are many things to do, like pick leaders you trust, purchase weapons and armour, hire cooks, launderers, and so much more. Supplies will be an issue for the journey home, so send someone to collect the coin we have stashed away, we won’t have enough without it. Oh, and you should pick an elite core for your retinue to aspire to and pay them accordingly. You have an incredible talent for getting into trouble, so this way, at least you’ll have someone supporting you from the side.”

“...Uh huh, yea, that sounds... good.” Overwhelmed by her suggestions, Rain stood in place with a blank look on his face. “Any... uh... suggestions? For leaders, I mean.”

Reaching up, Mila pinched his cheeks. “Rain, talent is good, hard work is better, but you also need to smarten up. Why ask me? You’re so clever but you never think, always looking to others for guidance and happy to let the current carry you away. You’re in command of a thousand lives, a heavy responsibility. These former bandits are your retinue and they represent the People now. Ensure they do nothing to shame us.”

Nodding in thought, Rain seemed to finally understand the gravity of his position, likely unhappy with all the extra work. So strange, though he’d achieved many of her dreams without trying, she couldn’t bring herself to be jealous, proud of his accomplishments and saddened he found them a burden. Her sweet, talented betrothed, he’d have been much happier living his life as an anything but a warrior, staying home to care for his family. She would love him all the same, but fate would not allow it. Something in his dark, unspoken past drove him to struggle and fight, seeking wrongs to right and conflicts to solve. No matter how much he grumbled about being thrown into battle, he always fought with a fearsome smile on his face, as if daring death to come claim him.

He didn’t know it yet, but he was addicted to the rush of battle. He’d never be happy sitting around with nothing to do, combat was a part of him now.

Hiding her grin, Mila led him away, allowing him the full breadth of her expertise. It was good practice, since it wouldn’t be long before she earned her own command. Talented, hard working, and genius, Rain wasn’t the only one who could lay claim to those attributes. She was Sumila, daughter of Akanai and Husolt, and she refused to spend her life in Rain's shadow.

It was only a matter of time for her to come into her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rubbing my eyes, I go over my list of candidates once more, checking if I’d missed anyone. Mila told me to pick out captains and establish a chain of command, so I retreated to my office to do just that. So far, I’ve got Rustram, Bulat, Ravil, and Jorani. Who else?

For lack of a better idea, I turn to my chosen few and ask, “Any suggestions?” Mila’s scowl tells me I should be more decisive, but it’s hard to change my nature. She’s more like her mother than I’d care to admit, straightforward and domineering while pointing out my mistakes, but she’s right. With great power, comes a massive pain in my ass, but I need to make sure it’s done right.

Bulat is the first to answer. “Chey. That one’s a survivor, but fierce in protecting her own. Loyal and smart, can’t go wrong there.”

“Ulfsaar.” Ravil’s opinion doesn’t come with an explanation, but it doesn’t need one. I’ve read Ulfsaar’s bounty poster and the powerful half-bear is a force to be reckoned with, despite his adorable little black bear ears.

Coughing politely to interrupt my musings, Jorani offers his suggestion. “Boss, if ye want the strongest, then it’s Jester Wang and his crew. A hard bunch of bastards they are.”

The former Butchers. Frowning, I shake my head. “Can’t say I like putting a possible Defiled in command.” I need Baledagh to vet my new retinue, can’t be inviting a fox into the hen house, but my little brother is still unresponsive and judging by experience, it could be weeks before he wakes.

Shrugging, Jorani defends his choice. “If he's Defiled, then he's playin’ a game I ain’t ever heard of. Had plenty of chances to turn against us and didn’t. Wouldn’t have made it out alive without him and his.”

Bulat and Ravil both agree, so I put Jester Wang on the shortlist. Hmm... If only we had time to loot the Butcher’s hideout, there's probably tonnes of booty stored there. “Anyone else?” That’s seven, I need at least one more. Even though I’ve only got four-hundred and thirteen new soldiers, I figured I can put each leader in charge of fifty as a trial run before picking the best of them. “What about Pran or Saluk? They’re squad leaders, so it shouldn’t be too big a leap.”

Bulat shakes his head. “They won’t accept. Had to bully em into looking after ten, and even then Rustram did most of the work. They’re better off as your guards. What about Kabi?”

“He didn’t make it.” Jorani’s whisper is met with silence, all of us having suffered losses. “Same with Light-fingered Yu, else he’d be on the list too.”

Returning to the matter at hand, I go over my options. The only other names I know are Silva, Viyan and Birca, but they’re the most irresponsible members of my retinue, a trio of drunks and degenerate gamblers. They’re good people, but sorely lacking in leadership qualities. None of the Sentinels want anything to do with leadership, having tagged along to follow Tursinai or Mila, so who’s left?

Ugh. Leadership. So troublesome.

I guess I have enough leaders for now. While the others leave to gather the chosen few, I take a seat next to Mila and sigh. “And to think, I was all prepared for a relaxing vacation but then the Defiled had to go and ruin it.”

“Ha.” Mila’s adorable snort puts a smile on my face, despite the dark circumstances. It’s too much, I can’t be gloomy all the time. “Work hard Rain. Train your new retinue, but don’t let yourself fall behind.”

“Yes love.”

“You’ve picked up many new skills, so remember to practice them. Don’t forget your old skills either, or the ones you’ve yet to learn. Though you’re capable of Honing and Guiding, you’re still a long way from comprehension. Your period of explosive growth might continue but don’t count on it. Too much of what you know is based on instinct, which is odd considering how much you like to question things. Learn it, master it, and you will stand unmatched for decades to come.”

It’s nice knowing she has so much faith in me, but it’s also a little intimidating. What if I fail? What if I disappoint her? As if sensing my thoughts, Mila squeezes my hand and flashes her beautiful smile, and just like that, everything is okay. Resting against her shoulder, I say, “You’re too good for me.”

“I know.”

“Boss.” Rustram peeks his head in, causing Mila to shove me away. Honestly, things would be less scandalous if she just left things as they were, but now Rustram will wonder what we were doing. “The Magistrate sent someone over. You’ll want to see this.”

That doesn’t sound great... Heading out, I’m greeted by a familiar face, bruised and battered as he kneels on the grass with his fellow companions, their weapons in hand. Beside him stands an administrator, who clears his throat and offers me a box with both hands. “By order of Magistrate Chu Tongzu, Dastan Zhandos and his traitorous companions have been granted clemency, their lives spared. The Magistrate offers this token as thanks for the People’s heroic defence of Sanshu. May you use these slaves well in defence of the Empire.”

Taking the box out of reflex, I look down at an innocuous golden pendent sitting within, swallowing at the sudden weight of it all. Beaten and broken, the misguided former Warrant Officer kowtows thrice, his family, retinue, and all their loved ones following suit. “Our lives are yours Master,” Dastan says, his bitter and mournful tone sending a lance of pain through me. “We await your command.”

For the crime of being born into the wrong faction, Dastan Zhandos now suffers a fate worse than death, alongside the rest of his family.

Despite all the beauty I’ve seen and the love I’ve found, it’s things like this that make me hate this world.

Chapter Meme