Upon arriving back on shore in Ping Ping’s embrace, Baledagh’s celebratory mood came to an abrupt end when he noticed Mei Lin and Sumila waiting in ambush. With Li Song, the wildcats, and a horde of bunnies hopping about as reinforcements, Baledagh had no choice but to feign a smile and wave while wracking his brain for something Brother would say, something both heartfelt and sincere, perhaps even a little teasing or witty.

Between the nervous sweating, rapid heart palpitations, and limited time frame, the best he could come up with was, “Hello.”

“Hi hubby.” Taking his awkward, over-enunciated greeting in stride, Mei Lin skipped to his side with a smile. Ignoring his dripping wet body, she commandeered his arm and clutched it tight against her chest in greeting. While not the largest of breasts by any measure, Mei Lin had grown quite a bit since Baledagh first laid eyes on her, a lovely young woman whose girlish figure had plumped up nicely in all the right places. As much as he appreciated noticing these changes, the pleasing, soft sensation pressed against his arm made his cheeks burn hot with hunger and shame. Mei Lin was Brother’s betrothed, not Baledagh’s, so he shouldn’t be taking advantage like this.

At least the monk wasn’t here to ruin everything with one of his lectures. Maybe the fat bastard had finally given up and left...

Gingerly extracting his arm, Baledagh patted Mei Lin’s head like Brother always did and ignored her wide-eyed pout. Moving on to the next problem, he faced down Sumila’s challenging stare as it bored deep into his skull. “Is something wrong?” he asked, doing his best not to shrink away. Although she only rarely took part in their sparring matches, Baledagh was all too aware of how frightening this formidable, freckled firebrand could be. There was no mercy in her; In fact, as his ‘betrothed’, she treated Baledagh much more harshly than any of the others, giving him a savage beating every time they stepped on stage.

To make matters worse, Sumila’s superior performance always sparked Zian’s competitive nature, earning Baledagh a second savage beating from the uppity nobleman. Baledagh was confident he would one day repay that snobby bastard in full, but he harboured no such hopes when faced with Sumila’s overwhelming supremacy.

Her snort alone was enough to send a chill down Baledagh’s spine. “What makes you think something’s wrong? Why can’t your betrothed come meet you after a long day of training?” Dressed in a baggy borrowed tunic, Sumila stood with hand on hip and the other curled into a fist as if ready to punch Baledagh in the mouth, which was sadly, fairly normal behaviour. What wasn’t normal was how she kept trading expressive glances with Mei Lin, and when their silent yet lengthy debate concluded, Sumila copied Mei Lin’s actions using Baledagh’s other arm. “I missed you,” she muttered, refusing to look him in the eye.

Oh how wonderful. No, not wonderful, terrible. These were Brother’s betrotheds and this was wrong. But it felt so right. Though Sumila’s borrowed outfit made her look broad-shouldered and undefined, the truth was anything but. Her supple, athletic form was pleasing to the touch, tough yet pliant with surprising... volume, and Baledagh lost himself in the sensations for a breath of time. Coming back to his senses, his attempts to free his arm ended in abject failure as Sumila’s firm and unyielding grip was too strong for him to oppose. As her loose tunic slipped to reveal a pale, freckled shoulder, Baledagh trembled with fear or desire. After clearing his throat several times, he finally mustered up enough saliva to whisper, “Er... I missed you too. Very much, but uh... this isn’t proper...” Heart skipping a beat at Sumila’s ferocious scowl, he amended what he was about to say. “...How about we hold hands?”

It seemed like an acceptable compromise. Despite Brother’s insistence to the contrary, there was nothing inappropriate or lewd about holding hands.

Thankfully, Sumila happily conceded to Baledagh’s point and interlaced her fingers with his own. Feeling a silly smile stretching over his face, he offered his free hand to Mei Lin who did the same. So odd for such a simple thing like holding hands to bring so much joy, but there was an affectionate intimacy which came with it, an implicit trust and interdependence. Sumila’s grip was snug and solid, their forearms pressed together and her shoulder brushing against his, striking a careful balance between supportive and dependant. On the other hand, Mei Lin held only two of his fingers in her loose, light grip, swinging their arms back and forth as she skipped along in child-like glee and asked, “How was your swim?”

“Productive,” he answered, smile widening until his cheeks strained with effort. “I figured out how to turn Chi into water... in a manner of speaking.” Careful not to overstate his accomplishment, he narrated his afternoon for both girls and swelled with pride as he basked in their praise. This was fine, if Baledagh’s failures were Brother’s to bear, then it made sense to also share his accomplishments too. Besides, even if he wasn’t the one to figure it out, once Brother came back and practised a little, he’d overtake Baledagh in the blink of an eye.

Settling down by the fire with Brother’s betrotheds, Baledagh froze up when Tali ran over to join in the fun, plopping herself down on his lap without warning. Thankfully, Tate preferred cuddling with Li Song so Baledagh only had the one child to deal with. Favouring him with a most precious smile, Tali snuggled back against his chest, looked up, and said, “Hi Rainy.”

Most days, Baledagh wanted nothing to do with the children, noisy, messy, capricious little creatures that they were, but today, things were different. Overwhelmed with emotion, he wrapped his arms around the tiny, precious half-goat and hugged her tight, still holding firm to Mei Lin and Sumila’s hands and drawing them in a little closer. “Hello sweetling,” he said, kissing the top of her head out of reflex. “How was your day?”

“It was so much fun Rainy, you should have come with. Great-granma brought us into the city with Lin-Lin, and Mi-Mi, and Li-Li, and...”

Tali’s storytelling was hardly riveting, but Baledagh listened to the entire thing, nodding along and asking questions like Brother would. He didn’t even have to pretend to be interested, he really wanted to hear about all the fun things Tali did and how she saw the world, smiling at her fanciful descriptions of the most mundane things. Tate soon joined in and Baledagh marvelled at how they found excitement from the tiniest things, from paper lanterns with fanciful drawings to luxurious boats with elaborate decorations. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been the same, only bits and pieces of a life before the mines. Wandering through the darkness mostly, cold and scared, hungry and tired. Had there been someone with him? Someone to love him like Brother loved Tate and Tali? Someone whose hand he could hold or arms he could rest in?

Baledagh wasn’t sure, but in his heart, he felt like the answer was probably no.

This realization tainted the happiness from this moment and all the contented smiles and congratulatory pats in the world couldn’t fix his dour mood. While he couldn’t deny he wanted all this for himself, this was Brother’s life and their love and support was meant for him. Baledagh was an aberration, a second mind trapped in a life not his own and no amount of pretending would make it otherwise. So distracted by his musings, Baledagh accidentally dropped his bowl of noodles and burnt his hands in scalding hot soup trying to catch it. Hissing with pain, he blew on his hands and shook his head, anxiously making sure no one else was hurt before feigning yet another smile to placate Brother’s happy little family.

What was Baledagh doing here? Blobby should have eaten him and left Brother behind, then all their problems would’ve been solved...

Once dinner ended, Baledagh pleaded exhaustion and headed back to his yurt, escorted by Sumila, Mei Lin, Mama Bun, and Ping Ping. While Ping Ping settled into the dirt, Mei Lin joined Mama Bun to inspect the bunnies and left Baledagh alone with Sumila. Rubbing her cheek against his shoulder, she Sent, “You know... you still haven’t asked about your Spiritual Weapon...”

Oh no. “Sorry,” he Sent. “With the Awakening and everything else going on, it slipped my mind.” Even without seeing her face, he knew he’d said the wrong thing, heart dropping as she deflated beside him. “Tell me about it?”

“Hmph. I left it with Papa so you can go find out yourself.” Releasing her grip, she huffed and crossed her arms in displeasure, muttering unpleasant things beneath her breath. She was so moody and capricious, violent and demanding, Baledagh couldn’t understand what Brother saw in this temperamental nag.

So why did seeing her distraught make his heart ache?

Keeping silent until Mei Lin was done, Baledagh watched them walk away and enter Li Song’s yurt just across the way. Belatedly noticing Banjo and Baloo had gone with them, he chuckled beneath his breath at the hare-girl’s persistence. The mischievous girl even kept Aurie with her, leaving Baledagh to spend the night alone in his yurt or under the stars with Ping Ping and the bunnies. No matter, he could survive a night without his cuddly bears, overly affectionate wildcat, and without the new Spiritual Weapon too. Best to leave it for Brother to bind, and if he needed an excuse, he could say he needed to sleep before meeting with the Legate in front of the Empire’s highest ranked officials and soldiers.

Oh Mother above, what was he going to do about that meeting?

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Stepping out from the shadows the second Baledagh reached for the door, the monk pressed his palms together and bowed. “Falling Rain, this one requests a moment of your time.”

Throwing the stealthy monk a dirty look, Baledagh considered outright ignoring him but decided that wasn’t something Brother would do. “Might as well come inside then. I’ll make tea.” Damn it, why did he say that? What do tea leaves look like? After setting a kettle over the fire, he rummaged through the chest where Brother kept his things and asked, “So... What do you want?”

“What this one wants is irrelevant,” the monk replied, sitting cross-legged with back straight and belly bulging. “This one was sent here to enlighten the person chosen by the Abbot, and that person is you.”

Not this again. Grabbing a random, unlabelled wooden box filled with black leaves, he prayed it wasn’t too valuable or too poisonous. Should he try a different box? No, no need. This will do. “Why?”

“Why was this one sent or why the Abbot chose you?”

“Both, I guess.” Dumping a couple handfuls into the still-cold water, he took a seat across from his unwelcome guest and waited for an answer, but the monk frowned at the wooden box, closed his eyes and sat perfectly still aside from his lips which moved without sound. With nothing better to do, Baledagh waited for the water to boil, and when he checked the kettle, he was delighted to find it smelled like a fragrant, sweet tea, though he found it off-putting for some strange reason. When the water came to a boil, he poured a cup for the monk, another for himself, and eschewing proper decorum, lifted his wooden cup for a sip.

Hand darting out like a snake, the monk snatched the teacup out of Baledagh’s hand without spilling a single drop. More shocked and amazed rather than angry, Baledagh sighed and said, “Granted, it was a little rude to start drinking without you, but I’m thirsty and didn’t know how long you’d be sitting there for.”

Studying him with intense scrutiny, the monk loomed overhead but Baledagh paid it no mind. The monk was a pacifist so what was there to fear? Proving him right, the monk put the teacup down and slumped over, resting his elbows on the table and propping his many chins up with his hands. “I can’t make heads or tails of you and that there’s the truth,” the monk said, losing all of his pomp and pretension while gaining a hint of a commoner’s drawl.

“No more ‘this one’ or ‘junior brother’s’ I see.” Baledagh smirked, enjoying his victory. “Are you even a real monk?”

“Course I am,” the monk scoffed, nodding at the wooden box. “But you ain’t a real herbalist. That there is mandrel stalk. A pinch’ll clear your colon right out and you used enough to drain the shit out of a dozen elephants. Thought you were trying to poison me ‘til you almost took a sip.”

Damn it. Why would Brother store unlabelled laxatives next to his unlabelled tea leaves? Keeping a straight face, Baledagh shrugged and adopted an air of indifference. “Oh. My mistake. I’m tired and should really label my things.” Stupid Brother. “I know I have tea around here somewhere...”

“Forget the tea, who knows what you’ll bring out next? Just remember to pour the kettle out somewhere safe, like out in your shitting tent. Don’t want to be poisoning no soldiers or animals now.”

“Noted.” Self-conscious about Brother’s strange habits, Baledagh changed the subject. “So the question still stands: Why me? And why you I suppose, but mostly... why me?”

“Who knows.” Glancing around, the monk sputtered and asked, “You got any wine?”

“Nope. Sorry.” Baledagh shrugged. “My drinking habits are strictly monitored.”

“Well if the stories are true, and I’m not entirely certain they are, I can understand why.” Leaning to one side, the monk shook his head. “You’re a real mystery, you know that? I came here expecting a murderous little princeling and instead, I get a calm, composed, only sometimes murderous jerk. Don’t know what to make of it. Got a taste of your rage today, but truth is, I hardly blame you. I’ve been jabbering away for six days now and you lasted much longer than I expected.” Chortling, he added, “Good thing gambling’s a sin, else I’d have lost big on this one.”

“...Wait.” Massaging his temples, Baledagh struggled for calm. “You were trying to piss me off?”

“Had to. After you spotted me, I couldn’t keep hiding but I needed to see if you were putting on an act.” Shrugging, the monk added, “Still not entirely sure. You’ve got anger in you and lots of it. Melancholy too, and more fear than any one man should rightly have. I mean who in their right mind notices a missing star?” Straightening with pride at Brother’s accomplishments, Baledagh shrunk back at the monk’s next words. “That’s changed though. Since your Awakening, you’ve been less alert yet somehow more focused, like a drawn blade with no one to wield it. More temperamental too, before you’d smile and nod while ignoring me all the while, but now, you glare and I can see the murderous rage in your eyes. Plus, you haven’t rolled around with your bunnies since. Like I said, you’re a real mystery.”

Mouth dry with fear, Baledagh reached for his cup of diarrhea-inducing tea before remembering himself. To think, it wasn’t Brother’s family or one of his betrothed to first notice an oddity, but a complete stranger looking in from the outside. What was the idiom? Can’t see the forest for the trees. Amused, the monk sat in silence while Baledagh struggled for an excuse, finally settling on, “Uhh... What?”

Rolling his eyes, the monk glossed over it. “Look, whatever your reasons for this strange behaviour, I don’t care. What matters is the Abbot sent me here to convince you to come back with me and take your vows. I can’t leave without having tried my best, but I can’t truthfully claim I tried my best if you won’t listen. I admit my faults. Before, I was talking at you, not with you, but you left me no other choice. Now, I invite you to sit with me so we might discuss the Brotherhood’s values and beliefs. A real discussion mind you, with questions and answers, and once I’ve said all I have to say, I’ll head right on home.”

“Look,” Baledagh said, stifling a sigh. “Almost any other time, I’d be happy to discuss whatever you like, but if you haven’t noticed, I’m a little busier than most. I’m still pondering over my Awakening, I have to greet the Legate tomorrow, and I’ll undoubtedly be challenged by some ‘murderous little princeling’ to prove my worth.”

“Four hours of your time then. Tonight and every night henceforth until I start repeating myself.”

“No.”

“Two hours then.”

“No.”

“...One?”

“No.”

Sucking in a lungful of air, the monk exhaled in defeat. “Well,” he said, getting up to leave, “Guess we’ll keep doing what we’re doing then. I Send and you glare. Oh, and sorry about your nose. Next time you try to kill me, I’ll be more careful not to hurt you.”

“Wait...” Another day of lectures would leave Baledagh frothing at the mouth. “Fine... one hour.” Leaning back to rest on one elbow, Baledagh yawned and said, “Well?”

Donning his air of holy grandiosity, the monk sat up straight and crossed his legs. “This one has spoken of much these past days. Does Junior Brother have any questions?”

Well... technically, this was Baledagh’s idea, so it seemed fair for him to start. “Why are you called the Penitent Brotherhood?”

“Because we are all sinners with much to atone for.”

Waiting for the monk to elaborate, Baledagh soon realized that was all he would get. “Okay... Well, you go on a lot about the four desires and three truths. What’s that all about?”

“The Three Desires and Four Noble Truths are the keys to escaping this cycle of Samsara. First you must forsake the Three Desires, which are the craving for sensual pleasures, existence, and non-existence. Then-”

“Stop.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Baledagh tried to wrap his mind around the concept. “Sensual pleasure I understand, but what about existence and non-existence? How is anyone supposed to forsake the desire to exist and not exist at the same time?”

“To crave existence is to seek self-identity. Permanence in fame, glory, legacy, or even form. Eternity is not meant for us humble mortals, which we all must come to accept.” With his head up and eyes half-lidded, the monk almost looked the part of divine messenger, with no sign of the surly, cursing, ready-to-get-drunk monk from before. “To crave non-existence is to avoid unpleasantness. Drinking to dull a broken heart, closing your eyes to another’s suffering, or ending your life to escape your pain, all are forms of non-existence. The Three Desires are at the root of all our worldly suffering, and only by letting them go can we end it.”

“So no sex, fame, or alcohol.”

“More than that. Sensual pleasure is not merely sex, but to abstain from all manner of sensory pleasures. Whether it be sex, wealth, power-”

“Food?”

Choking on a cough, the monk opened his eyes and glared at Baledagh before chuckling in agreement. “Indeed, this one is far from perfect, but we all have our failings, Junior Brother. It’s rude to point fingers.”

“Okay...” Hoping to hurry the discussion along, Baledagh asked, “So you forsake these desires and accept your truths, all so you can... do what exactly?”

“Escape the cycle of Samsara.”

“And that is...?” It took every scrap of willpower Baledagh had not to yawn. Mother above, if everything the monk had to say was this boring, then he might not last the entire hour.

“Reincarnation.” Seeing Baledagh sit up with interest, the monk added, “Of course, that is a simplified way of describing things. There are many more nuanced-”

“No, that’s fine.” Taking a proper seat at the table, Baledagh asked, “Tell me about reincarnation.”

If the monk had information which could help find Brother, then maybe this whole farce wasn’t a complete waste of time.

Maybe.

Probably not.

Chapter Meme