Infamous Goose
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2.31 Of Skeletons and Beggars
🕑 Added 2025-06-15 04:19:36 +0000 UTCShin was having the time of his life. For the first time since he’d become an origin deity, he actually wanted to ask questions. The reticen
Shin was having the time of his life. For the first time since he’d become an origin deity, he actually wanted to ask questions. The reticent god was practically vibrating as he moved through the Karmic Realm, this incarnation free of any guidance from the other gods of the realm. That didn’t mean that he was alone – far from it, in fact. The size of Statera’s Four Realms meant that Shin was almost never alone; he was always in the range of someone of power.
In this case, the someone of power was an Asura, one of the god Keilan’s immortal People. She was also a being Shin had an interest in. The psychic being – for that was what it was, all othering things forgotten – pushed a boat through the sea of memories with the power of her mind, white hair flowing in the wind and grey eyes glowing. Her four arms worked on four different projects each; the hands themselves not doing the physical action, but more acting as a focus for her psychic powers to complete.
What she was working on was also of interest to Shin, but his primary focus was on the purpose of its journey. Her eyes traced the ocean below, a fishing rod in one hand sinking beneath the waters to pull out memories disguised as silver fish – memories the Asura would examine, then toss back into the ocean.
She was hunting. Hunting another soul, and delving through memories to do so. Shin observed for a while as the young Asura moved about across the ocean, choosing not to delve into the archive of memories that lay beneath Keilan’s palace. Such a thing would be far easier…but this immortal, young even for her kind, elected to do this the hard way. Which meant it was not an officially approved action.
Why give souls immortality, like Asuras? Beyond that, why give those immortals such freedom? Power came with a cost, and from most worlds Shin had seen – from his own, to the other Origin Deities’ universes – the cost of great power was limitation. Dedicating one’s self to the Origin Deity or some other such thing; gods, in service to another god. There were clear limitations. Not so here. Here, even angels, said to be the right arm of the gods they chose to serve, were far more free than Shin had ever seen.
Was this the kindness of Statera Luotian? The desire to not control their children, but to see them thrive? Was that why they left open a path to immortality for the mortals? Was this the secret to the power surging through every inch of their Realms?
Shin was not sure, but the very concept of Statera’s own universe was so against his own realm he had to know why. Immortality was only his in the Wheel Realm. Eternity was not possible.
“This is an interesting task you are undertaking,” Shin said, appearing before the asura in a swirl of black mist. His appearance had changed, disguised as one of the many Karmic Kings that inhabited the Karmic Palace. But his features were still obscured despite this, hidden behind the black mist that poured from his bones – black mist that defied perception, twisting reality so only those he wished would even notice him.
The only ones who would remember Shin was even here, disguised as he was, was the Asura and Statera Luotian themselves. And only Statera would know the truth of the action.
“My lord!” The Asura jumped, eyes flying wide with surprise, the sword that she was making with one hand jumping upward threateningly, only to lower upon seeing who he was. The power propelling the boat ceased, the simple craft drifting to a gentle stop just before where Shin floated, the black waves of the karmic ocean lapping at his feet. “I – I was just, um,”
“Searching for someone.” Shin clarified, voice raspy. “Who gave you permission to do so? Is not the karmic palace’s purpose to manage the karma of the entire Realms? Let them come to us. Try as they might to escape the cycle of reincarnation, only a scant few ever manage to do so. Death comes for all, and the cycle continues,” The asura’s expression stiffened, and she bowed her head.
“My lord, it would be wise for you to return to the palace. I apologize for forcing you to follow me out here, but it is not safe for one of your station to be wandering out here alone.” She said.
“But I am not alone. You are here, are you not?” Shin pressed. “I can sense the discontent within you. Speak the truth.”
“…it is of my own volition I am out here. I ask no others to help me.” She said simply, meeting Shin’s eyes. There was a fire there, a burning desire and firmness of action that defied any assumed judgement of Shin’s – except, he was not out here to judge her. “The Karmic Palace has its duties. My brethren have their purposes, many of whom stay to protect the Palace. I cannot stay there all the time. There are souls who accrue misdeeds like they are badges of honor, and I cannot sit idly by and watch that happen. Not knowing what they do to others. Not knowing what such actions do to their own souls. Death may come for most, but I will ensure no unworthy soul is able to defy it.”
Shin listened to her speak, but his mind was working on two other things. One was the Asura’s emotional state. The other was retracing her steps, following her aura and reading the memories she had dug up. The soul she was hunting was a powerful cultivator that had hidden herself away in the Hidden Realm, and experimented on children to lengthen her own failing lifetime. Irredeemable for many, however…
“Is that your place to judge them?” he asked. “There are others far older and wiser than you. Who are you to deny another soul the right to their own path? Their own free will?”
“Just because you have freewill doesn’t mean your actions will go unpunished.” The Asura snapped, crossing her arms defiantly. “I am no punisher. I will simply stop them.” Shin shivered at the firm declaration, a power radiating from her that reminded Shin of the other immortals, the Dao Progenitors, as Statera Luotian called them, that created their own rules beneath Statera’s own. It was small and unfocused, but the intent was there.
“Do not fear, young one. I cannot judge you. Such is not my place, for the Heavens granted everyone the right to choose their own path.” He told her, form fading. “I would wish you good fortune, but you and I both know what that will mean. So I will simply bid you farewell, and you will never see me again.” With that, Shin vanished from sight, but remained hovering over the Asura as she looked about, then resumed her self-made task with a grim expression.
He couldn’t imagine his enforcers going against Ze’s, and by extension, his own, will…though perhaps, in time, a few would begin to disobey orders, or act of their own volition. He had given his own creations freewill after all. That said, he was no closer the answer of his original question, despite the interesting nature of that conversation. Shin took a step back. Perhaps his self in the Physical Realm was having more luck…
***
A drunk beggar walked into church.
The priest turned, sweeping the marble floor in front of the golden altar as he had been, and smiled at the filthy man who stumbled through the aisle, bumping into the dark wooden pews as he went. His aura screamed of desperation and pain, the very air about him stunk of alcohol – even as he drunk deeply from a gourd, hands brushing against the worn wood of the pews. The priest paused as he watched the man approach, recognizing the depressed air of one weighed down far too much by life and all its troubles. He was no serious cultivator, dabbling in the qi side of things at best, but even he could tell that the drunkard was heavy with the troubles of life.
His stomach twisted, not in pity, but in empathy and sympathy. A proud man rejected pity. Only a stupid man rejected empathy. He didn’t know this man’s story – he was dressed in absolutely filthy rags, his features smeared with dirt and grim, and while his features may have been Fae-esque, he had no horns to speak of – but his heart still reached out to the man as he set down his broom.
“Can I help you?” he asked. “The service is not for another three nights, but we welcome all who are troubled.” Mother Gi would not come to this temple to provide a sermon until the end of the week, but, even as a young priest, he could at least try to provide some comfort to this troubled soul.
“I,” the drunkard asked, tripping over his own feet and bracing himself against the frontmost pew. He took another swig of spirits from his gourd, gasping for air as he put it back down. “Am lookin’ fer somethin’ ta feel,” he mumbled. The priest frowned and put aside his broom, stepping away from the large marble altar to stand before the drunkard. He looked at him with half-lidded eyes, wrinkling his nose as he swayed back and forth before the priest.
“That’s an odd way of putting it. Sit down, friend, and speak with me. What do you seek?” The priest asked. The drunkard sighed heavily and slipped into the nearest pew, sitting with a thud as he settled in. The priest knelt before him, furrowing his brows in concern.
“Wha’s…what’s Morgan’s story, eh? Why do ‘e try’n fight Statera? Huh? Why fight the creator? Why rage against heaven, er what’ver ya calls it.” the drunkard slurred.
“Morgan…? You mean Father Luotian and Mother Statera’s Shadow?” the priest asked. The beggar nodded, taking a swig from his gourd as he considered the question. “…how much do you know of the two? This is a church dedicated to Lady Elvira, Goddess of Heaven and all that is Holy.” The priest gestured behind himself at the stained glass window that loomed above the altar, depicting the winged Goddess Elvira, flying above her Holy Mountain with light radiating off of her.
“I dunno,” the beggar drawled.
“I see. I will start from the beginning then. You know the story of Mother Statera and Father Luotian? In the beginning, they were one. Then, to create the universe, they split. Father Luotian created the heavens and Dao, a set of overseeing guidances and laws meant to guide and protect the lesser souls of the Four Realms. Mother Statera created the earth and the cycle of reincarnation, to protect the souls from the dangers of the greater universe. But these things needed management, and so our creators made their four children.
“Father Luotian created Lady Elvira, goddess of Heaven, and Lord Alexander, the Dragon of Spirits. Two mighty protector gods, warriors and kings, to guide the children of the Physical Realm. Mother Statera birthed Lady Reika, goddess of Life, and Lord Keilan, the Karmic Judge, to guide life to greener pastures. But unbeknownst to them, a fifth child was born of the two’s energies. Morgan, the child of Mother and Father both, He who stole parts of Statera and Luotian to make himself powerful.
“Morgan was a powerful god. One who desired to devour the sun, and return all to darkness. Our Mother and Father, the Earth and Heavens, let us make our own world. They let their children create and destroy of their own desires, and live as they saw fit. Morgan detested this. They desired destruction, and to enforce the perfect vision of what Mother and Father both saw. What Morgan did not understand is that such a vision of perfection is pointless.”
“Pointless?” the beggar echoed. The priest laid a hand upon his knee, meeting the poor man’s eyes without an ounce of pity. Only what he hoped was seen as kindness, and empathy.
“Pointless. Perfection is pointless unless we, ourselves choose it. Some say that good does not exist without evil – I disagree. Good only exists because we, the Fae, and the children of the other Gods, have the capacity for evil. Every day we must choose to be good, knowing we are capable of evils. Some are not capable of such. Morgan was one of those.” He said. “I do not know why you have come here, son. I do not even know if you are older or more powerful than myself. Cultivators are such beings, and I may be just an ignorant mortal, speaking of topics I know nothing about. But I choose to believe it. I choose to believe that my goodness had meaning and purpose. That is why I follow Lady Elvira, in her church here in the Physical Realm. Because she represents the greatest good – Father Luotian’s ideal goodness. The good that is chosen over evil.”
The beggar was quiet for a long moment.
“I see.” He said, suddenly sounding sober, expression clear and the haze of alcohol vanishing from his eyes. The priest pretended not to notice, keeping his expression calm even as his heart hammered in his chest. Only a cultivator could banish alcohol from their system like that, and they were whimsical beings at best. As powerful as Mother Gi, matriarch of this church, was, she was not the most powerful cultivator around. “Morgan was a counter to Statera Luotian. Goodness forced, perfection pushed upon souls, rather than the more profound goodness chosen, and perfection strived for.”
“That is one way to put it, yes.”
“Then why worship Elvira, and not the creator?”
“There are some who do worship Father Luotian and Mother Statera. They are two halves to a single whole, after all, and the greatest being in all existence. But I cannot connect to one such as that. How can one worship the heavens? How can one give praise to a monument? Lady Elvira, Empress of Heaven and a true goddess is one I can understand and connect to.” The priest said, standing. “Unlike lord Keilan, who tries to interpret the Mother and Father’s rights and wrongs, guiding people through the effects of their actions through karma, Lady Elvira struggles to embody the best in all of us. She fights through anger and pain, in her scriptures. That is a being I can understand.” The priest said.
“You have given me much to think about.” The beggar said, standing and taking another long draught from his gourd. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome,” the priest said, dusting off his robes and turning. By the time he reached the altar once again, picking up his broom to continue sweeping, the beggar was gone. And he smiled, content with the idea that he had helped a powerful being with their inner turmoil. Or that he had, perhaps, passed some test laid before him. Or, even lesser, had simply had a pleasant conversation about his beliefs.
And the beggar smiled to himself, having learned a thing or two about Shadows.
***
Shin: Skeleton God of the Cycle. Seeking answers to questions.
Asura: One of Keilan's Immortal People, originally designed to fight Morgan. This one is now on a quest to bring justice to those who actively try to avoid it. Doesn't matter to her if she's right or wrong for this.
Priest: Priest of Elvira. Giving history lessons. Happy to help share some of the solace he gained through religion with others.
Reilly: Beggar. Totally toying with mortals. Also learned something. Despite their flaws and misunderstandings, they can still understand the heart of things. "From the mouths of babes," and all that.
Comments
Harley Shockley
I don’t think Reilly has beaten his own Shadow, or even figured out who his Shadow is. Statera figured it out, but that is only because she is able to see everything. In fact, Reilly’s Shadow is still building themselves up.
Andrew Ridings
I've really been loving this remake of the story; every time I finish one chapter it makes me want to read the next one pretty much immediately. Also I've always wondered what the mortals perspective was of the gods, so it was a great chapter
ArtTheGreat
How do you write such perfection? I understand that it would be a long long way into the story, but now that we have this scene about Reilly figuring out what Shadows are I really want to (eventually) have Reilly tell Statera the story of overcoming the dangers of his own Shadow. Especially given how he already seems to have an amiable relationship with his shadow so I am very curious as to the danger his shadow poses. It would be nice to hear the other origin deities telling the stories of their shadows too but it is Reilly that particularly sparks my curiosity.
elph
Man this is shaping up to be everything I wanted and more. Thanks for the chapter, also the priest is such a good lad I hope we see him again sometime
Aune
ComeOn, now we must visit the other three children, even a hidden church of Morgan. Would be interesting to see how they differ in their views & intersect in their interpretation of the gods & creation stories
Vorquel
Shin and Reilly are both excellent characters. Almost foils of each other. One is thoughtful and deliberate, the other carefree and whimsical.
cel
thank you for the chapter!! i love these POVs!
