Infamous Goose
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3:35 Fragments
🕑 Added 2025-11-21 08:55:47 +0000 UTCThank you all for your patience! I ended up having to split the chapter, because it was getting too long, and the scene itself deserves to be written right. Hope you enjoy!
***
Solana could feel the weight of her past life pressing down upon her, like dirt smothering fire, as she and the Rival approached the end of her long, long road. It never came to her as coherent memories, only glimpses; pain and rage, the emotions themselves so familiar, yet whatever drove them so different than what drove her now. She didn’t remember what made her mad before, in those fragmented echoes. Only that her pride felt sore every time she thought about it, or discovered one of those little fragments of her old self floating about in her soul. They were almost always filled with dark emotions. She remembered the burning fire, lashing out, wounded pride…so different from what she felt now. Or was it?
The old man who had protected her, had raised her and helped her come to terms with her newfound intelligence, back before she had ever been immortal and still had been but a bird, had been slain by two Immortals who had nothing to do with the righteousness they spouted, and everything to do with the anger and hatred within them. She chased them now out of anger and hate and the desire for revenge – was the path she was on really so different from whatever she had done before?
The thought terrified her down to her core. Not for fear of what she had done, but that she knew she had caused her own fall.
The fragmented feelings that had been echoing in her soul ever since she became an immortal fire-bird constantly echoed in her mind, taunting her, leaving her wondering at her own self, who she was, and who she had been. Pride surged within her at her strength, at her flames, at the way all looked up to gaze upon her as she streaked across the sky wreathed in golden flames. Pride bloomed in her breast when mortals and immortals alike pressed closer upon her, eager to bask in the rays and warmth of her flames. And there was a little voice in the back of her head that told her yes. This is where you are supposed to be.
That same voice told her to push further and further, to take back what was hers.
It was a voice that scared her, setting her feathers to puffing up, her wings to flaring, her heart to racing. That pride felt different. It felt…suffocating and restricting. If she was a silly Fae like her student, she was certain she would have woken up many times during the night in a cold sweat from those dreams and feelings, like she had seen the Rival do when he thought she wasn’t watching. She shuddered a little, the cool, foul wind that blew across the treetops adding to the chill that ran down her spine. She was proud of who she was. She was proud of her power, and how she had helped people. So why did that pride make her afraid?
Why did that small voice tell her that she walked a razor’s edge?
Why did she look at shadows sometimes, like she was expecting someone to come out of it?
Why did her fear urge her to fall, calling her a fool?
Solana turned her attention outward, desperate to move her mind onto different topics, away from nerves and anxiety. She chirped, singing to herself and listening as the echoing song was distorted by the breeze, that which should have taken her song to all corners of the Physical Realm. But this region was different.
Everything about it felt disconnected, the energy the devil cultivators that were so pervasive here produced far, far worse than any pollution she had ever felt. It clung to her feathers like tar and soiled her qi – she dared not cultivate, lest the tar-like substance pollute her dantian. Even breathing became hard, the air, even in the most wild regions, tasting of staleness and bitterness. Not even spirit beasts were spared; they were aggressive, and wild, and unhinged, attacking without reason as if their minds had been separated from their senses.
Her head twisted to the side as she looked toward the little mortal village that grew not too far away, on the edge of this…lesser Pangaea.
They moved about in their little huts, the strongest among them merely a Solar Plexus level cultivator, the middle-aged elemental stocky and almost perpetually angry, the red emotion rolling off of him in waves. In another part of the universe, he may have even been considered talented, to have gotten as far as he had while effectively crippled.
The mortals didn’t even know what they were ingesting as they cultivated. To them, this was how the world was – qi was an oppressive, cloying substance that fought and clawed against them, refusing to be bent to their will. They had to burn off the impurities of the qi within their own bodies just to make it useful, and could never get it fully clean. It polluted their souls and bodies, coloring their actions with foul emotion; a far cry from the typical purer, cleaner qi that pervaded the other regions.
Here, like this, Solana could understand why mortals believed the heavens were oppressing them maliciously. Because the qi of the land itself fought back, and the energy their souls produced burned with sticky darkness. The heavens were certainly still suppressing growth, but here…growth was fought for tooth and claw, regardless of Heaven’s will. Whoever controlled this region wanted no rivals.
“Solana, we need to get moving!” The Rival called from below, waving up at her. Solana tilted her head to observe him for a moment, embers falling from her wings. He had changed much since their journey began, physically at least, but she still saw him as the foolish, self-sacrificial boy who channeled an immortal Treant’s soul just to help avenge her fallen friend. Slowly she descended toward him, chirping as she landed upon his shoulder.
He walked through the foul qi like it didn’t bother him, like it was nothing at all, letting his fingers brush gently against the golden wheat that grew in the meadow he had rested in. She didn’t understand how he could be so dismissive of it.
“So how are we going to go about this? Start a forest fire, see who answers?” the Rival mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully as he started to walk, that casual little saunter that belied his ever-readiness to react. Solana ruffled her feathers.
“No. We will head straight for the Tree.” She declared, settling down on his shoulder. “The ringleaders are there, at the base. They are not hiding; this region is theirs.”
“So walk right in the front door. That kind of planning always ends well.”
“I cannot hide from this.” Solana said seriously, beak clicking together as she snapped at a fly that buzzed by. Good thing about talking through qi most of the time, she could talk with her mouth full. Her beak didn’t really let her form words, anyways. “I am the light, student. I have to face this, this way.”
“I am the light is a pretty arrogant statement, Sol,” he said cheerfully, the little nickname sending a shiver of fear through her core. Solana pecked him hard, on the cheek, the man flinching away dramatically and shooting her a scandalized look as she hopped off his shoulder, flapping once to hover just before him.
“This is something I must do. You do not have to come.” She didn’t know why she was so insistent on doing it this way. She wasn’t sure she could articulate it if she was asked. All she knew was that something within her demanded she go here, do this, and face the choir and whatever darkness consumed them head-on. It was arrogant, she knew. She may even die; she was not ignorant enough of the forces arrayed against them to believe otherwise.
When you walk into the tiger’s den, one must be ready to face their claws.
“I promised to help,” the Rival said with a yawn. “I never go back on promises.” It was such a simple statement, yet the way he said it carried such finality that Solana found she could not argue. Instead, she faced forward, spread her wings, and flew toward the darkness growing like a fungus from the city at the base of the Tree.
***
The devil cultivator’s city was a testament to hatred and pain. Not literally, no society could function for long on a solely hatred-filled and fear-focused system, but the seat of power itself tried damn hard to toe the line as closely as possible. Slaves who were not technically slaves filled the condensed, nearly featureless buildings, living in carefully managed homes that were little more than small, blank squares that provided only hints of comfort and necessity. They were tiny things, too, stacked all up on top of each other – facsimiles to what Solana knew some people called “apartments.” These were homes designed not for those who desired to live in the city, who enjoyed the fast-paced nature of that life and could live in smaller spaces, perhaps even make it their own, but to contain people. To strip away all that they were, all that could make them individuals, and force them to live the exact same way as everyone else all while maintaining the illusion of comfort and individuality.
They had food. They had water. But they were controlled by a society that said everyone had to be the exact same as everyone else without actually saying it. That wanting for more was bad. That even if you were higher on the totem pole, you were not worth anything. Except, of course, for those at the very top.
They, supposedly, knew better than everyone else. And the people beneath them just…accepted it, moving about their dull, boring lives, with no prospect of rising up through any conventional means beyond behaving exactly as their “masters” deemed and maybe, maybe being allowed to advance in society and their lives. Solana had seen societies of mortals like this before; it was not an isolated thing. But never on so large a scale. And never corruption of this style, where it went all the way to the absolute top of the line; the true movers and shakers of the region, not those who merely thought they were at the top.
The Rival pulled up his hood as he walked amongst them, Solana perched on his shoulder doing her best to look completely inconspicuous despite being an immortal bird. Thank Mother Statera the Rival knew techniques to hide their auras…at least until it was time to reveal themselves.
“Can’t even blame the people for not resisting more. It’s not like they know better, and it’s pretty rare to find a society like this so far along in their complete dissolution of culture and society. It’s almost impressive.” The Rival noted, weaving between crowds that moved with urgency down the street. They all wore the same sort of thing, dark clothes with white undershirts, their hair styled the same way even if they were of different species. Solana watched an elemental woman walk by, her head down as she ate something fried that smelled far too greasy and unhealthy for her tastes, her mind wrapped up in thousands of small worries that kept her occupied from the true threats.
That greasy food was probably one of the only pleasures that woman got out of life. Solana clacked her beak, and wondered if any of them had ever seen the Light.
“Their culture has been all but stripped away,” Solana noted, using qi to peel back what little layers of time she could. She could see echoes of what had once been a budding culture, built before even the Celestial Empire had the opportunity to arrive, the natives of the land dedicating their lives to a warrior culture.
Now the remains of said culture was plastered on walls, made a decoration and desecrated in every way that mattered. They had their temples, their schools, their colors and traditions…but they had been so diluted, everything that had made them sacred in the first place stripped nearly to the bone, leaving only the shell behind. The temples were desecrated in a way that maintained the illusion of proper respect, the holy men and women who had once lived there reduced to echoes, preaching to masses who could not hear them for their own voices were tainted. The entire thing was an illusion. It was a camouflage, a hidden thing to show what they had been and sell the lie that they still maintained that warrior’s pride, while simultaneously stripping them of it.
Pride in who they were, turned against them because they believed they still had it. Only the oldest remembered the truth, but even they fell victim to what had befallen the region, and who had come into power.
“They sacrificed their free will for comfort and so-called safety,” the Rival noted, not a single ounce of judgement in his tone. “That is what the ones who took power promised. That is what they offered in exchange for everything they were. Look, see? They used the same terrorism tactics they tried to use in the central region to make these people afraid, then swooped in offering safety from that fear.”
“They are doomed to fail eventually.” Solana scoffed. “Such things degrade far faster than purer creations.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Cultivation makes everything weird. This nation could survive for tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of years – all it does is prove that this concept can be built and maintained.” The Rival shrugged, disturbing Solana from her spot. She fluttered her wings and shot him a glare as she settled back onto his shoulder. An old Fae man – she called him old, but that was only physically, he had merely a few centuries of life under his belt – said something to the Rival about the pretty bird on his shoulder, taking obvious pleasure in her presence, as he walked past.
“You are saying this will last for eternity, just as the Celestial Empire will?”
“It hasn’t been eternity yet for the Empire,” the Rival noted mildly, crossing a cobblestone street and rounding a corner. The thought was humbling, but Solana found herself unable to focus on the meaning as the object of her obsession finally, finally came into view.
The crowded, narrow, blocky buildings that made up the rest of the city gave way to an open square, with a statue of a Karae man and a marble fountain. A large, brutish-looking government building rose high above all the rest, taller than the second tallest building in the city by half. It was a visual testament to power, but not in a gaudy way – there was no gold or gems, to show off excess wealth on the exterior. Those who ran the entire place knew better than to make it immediately apparent they lived in luxury, while the rest of those in the cities were forced to live like this.
Columns supported the greyish stone walls, a domed roof lined with some sort of silver metal gleaming in the light of the Realm Sun. Qi radiated off of the thing in waves, foul and sticky, colorful red and white flags flapping in the wind. Solana clacked her beak as her gaze rose skyward, following the qi the building produced – no, guided.
This entire city, much like the Celestial Empire’s capital, was one giant formation, broadcasting a certain flavor of qi to the entire continent of Pangaea. But whereas the Celestial Empire tried to produce positive or benign qi, this building guided and flavored only negative; be it depressive, anxious, or any other such blinding, binding emotion. The ones who ran this government had yet to fully conquer this entire region, they simply did not have the manpower yet, but the results were already written in stone; they were the ones to flavor the qi, and soon the region would fall in line. There was no power that could oppose them.
Except for Solana and the Rival, but…
“This is it. I can feel them inside.” The Rival said casually, sticking his hands in his pockets. “They’re trying to corrupt the Tree, assume absolute control. I imagine they’ll succeed, at this rate. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“No.” Solana said, blinking her eyes and cocking her head to the side at the blocky building. For once, now that she actually was here, she was not certain. The people around them had been taken advantage of by those who had killed her friend, and were not to blame. A fight here would kill millions of people…all to satisfy her own revenge. She would create millions of versions of herself, yet Terra could not be allowed to roam free, either. “But we are here, so let us enter.”
The Rival said nothing more as he crossed the street, avoiding a strange metal carriage that rumbled down the road under the power of qi and the formations that kept it together, as he walked straight up to the large, bronze front doors of the government building. Solana puffed up, the technique the Rival had used to temporarily hide their Immortal Qi failing the moment they crossed the threshold.
No, not failing.
Solana declared her presence.
A boom echoed out from the interior, radiating through the long entryway. A red carpet stretched from the front doors to a desk manned by root-level cultivators, their gazes snapping up to stare at the two who had just entered. The Rival kept his hands in his pockets. Solana burned as bright as the sun as she lifted off from his shoulder, wings spread, immortal qi roiling as her voice echoed through the halls.
“TERRA OF PANGAEA, MAURADER OF THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE. I CALL YOU OUT!” She roared, voice echoing with all the pain and rage of every life the terrorist woman had taken, all the families shattered in her quest for power.
Mortals crumbled beneath the weight of her qi, unable to bear the sight of her radiance – and she was not truly going all out. If she did, all the clerks, all the mortals, everyone below would burst into flame and turn to naught but ash; an undesirable result. Even still, the walls trembled. Formations flared, cracking and failing beneath the weight of her existence. The building rattled. And the roof of the building was torn from the walls through a power not her own.
From the skies above descended eleven immortals, each more foul in qi and purpose than the last. Among them were the two she had sought, Terra the elemental, and her Karae husband. But they alone were not the focus of Solana’s attention. Her breath caught in her throat, her qi faltering ever so slightly as recognition echoed through her soul, a sharp pang of fear setting even her eternal flames to wavering.
Their souls were twisted and tainted, pieces of their beings removed to allow something else in. Power rippled through them, each nearly as strong as she was alone, yet it was the familiarity of their gazes that made Solana tremble so.
Fragmented memories echoed in her mind, from a past long forgotten, expunged from her soul.
She didn’t know how she knew, or why, but she did understand this; these people had made their choice. And she had made the same, or a similar, choice in the past.
Solana shrieked, fire rippling from her feathers as fear gave way to terror, and transformed into pure rage. She shot skyward to meet her foes, intent on dragging them away from the city, to prevent damage from befalling the mortals…and a little voice echoed in her mind.
Little fool, come to me once again. Welcome back.
***
Solana: Immortal Fire-bird. Reincarnation of Sol, is remembering bits of her old self.
The Rival: A monkey wrench and serial reincarnator. Flirts with Statera relentlessly. Does keep his promises; but does have a way to always escape if he needs.
Terra: An elemental woman who made a deal with Morgan for power. Evil, but hides it behind righteousness. Was tasked with assimilating an entire new region for Morgan to take over.
Comments
Presten
Ah Morgan, our perpetual, literal incarnation of evil. It's so sad that they will never be expunged from reality for their sin of existence. I wonder how long it will take for them to reach a trillion lives ruined.
