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CC: Chapter 56
🕑 Added 2024-05-21 14:30:06 +0000 UTC'Trial'
If it was possible for a machine-man to feel groggy, that is exactly how XJ-V would have described his awakening.
The lids of his eyes edged open as his internal servos whirred with life, and the flame billowing at the center of his chest kicked into high-gear once again, sending a blaze of neon lettering into his previously blank retinal output:
-SYSTEM REINITIALIZING-
-EMERGENCY REPAIR PROTOCOL ACTIVATED-
The Cog sighed, stifling a shout of agony as his pain receptors also came back online. These repairs were going to take a while. He hadn’t even attempted anything of the sort before…
“So, he has awoken.”
The voice – clear and distinct – reverberated off XJ-V’s consciousness like a brutal ball and chain.
“Well, Disciple?” it said. “What do you have to say?”
XJ-V blinked through his system notifications to the reality of the Dragonpyre Hearth before him. The speaker – a grim faced Master Longhua – sat cross-legged before him beneath the Eternal Dragon fresco.
Beside him, someone was loudly slurping tea.
“I must say, Brother, I do not know why you complain so much about the brews your Dragon Disciples conjure for you. This tea warms the heart and comforts the soul. Is that not enough?”
“Fire can give warmth,” Longhua told the nameless slurper. “Tea must give flavor. And this particular brew has been leaving a bitter taste in my mouth as of late.”
XJ-V craned his busted neck, looking down to see that – yes – his left leg ended in a stuttering stump of dim wiring and his right arm hung limp from his body. He was sitting against the far wall of the hearth, propped up like a broken statue. For that is what he now was.
And as he strained to bring more of the world into focus, he saw the other shapes that dominated the room – the regal form of Master Yoma-Dur of the Waiting Tiger sat next to Longhua drinking tea with long, deep, satisfied gulps. Before the two Masters bowed the supplicant form of Feng-Lung and beside him sat Ori’un, arms folded in what looked like pure satisfaction even though he bore more than a few extra scars across his face and arms. When the Cog cast his eyes over him, the Planeswalker gave him a subtle wink.
“Ah, but that is the beauty of subjectivity,” Yoma-Dur said in response to Longhua’s admonishment of the tea they were sharing. “You think too much upon where the tea came from, Brother. You obsess over how the tea can be used. You crave to add ingredients which may make the tea better. But, in the end, you cannot change the core flavor. You might say it is an acquired taste. Once which is more than palatable to my palate.
XJ-V looked upon Feng-Lung who came to sit now beside him – the boy gripping his arm as though to make sure the machine-man really was alive. But the Cog’s mind was focused on the bizarre nature of the conversation between the two Masters the Sects.
Were they really talking about tea here, at all?
“Maybe you are right, Brother,” Longhua replied stiffly, setting down his cup and sniffing the air. “Perhaps this particular batch of tea ought to be sent elsewhere, where it can please only the driest of mouths.”
“Master!” Feng-Lung suddenly shouted, coming back to prostrate himself before the two leaders of Ramor-Tai. “Any punishment you wish to impose, I shall accept. I disobeyed you, worked against your will, and imposed my own Ego upon the wasteland before us. I did this knowing that I would face your retribution. I come before you now to receive it willingly.”
Longhua’s flaring eyes looked as though he was about to rise and strike down the boy for even daring to know his thoughts, but the white sleeve of his Brother calmed him, and urged the volcanic eruption bubbling at his heart to remain dormant for now.
It was amusing, in a way. XJ-V had never seen both Masters interact with eachother in this manner – or even occupy the same place in space and time. It was as though they were two entities that simply could not exist together, both weilding power that all young apprentices could only dream of one day possessing. But the way Longhua nodded and allowed his Brother to speak his mind…XJ-V truly wondered what the relationship between these Cultivators of legend was like.
“Tell us, Feng-Lung of the Dragon,” Yoma-Dur said. “What compelled you to fly from the monastery? What prompted you to rebel against the word of a Dragon?”
Both Masters looked towards the smiling form of Ori’un, who merely whistled nonchalantly, pretending not to even notice them.
Feng-Lung gulped before he delivered his answer. XJ-V had expected to see him sweating profusely under the watchful gaze of two Cultivator Masters of the Internalized Ego. Instead, he saw nothing but a boy who was willing to stand up for what he believed in, no matter the cost.
He saw a different Feng sitting there in the Hearth, now. A Feng that was changed from the boy he met on that rain-blasted day when he had marched through the doors of the monastery in ignorance, and in weakness.
“The teachings of the Dragon tell us that no being who walks upon this earth walks alone,” Feng said. “That we all have the same innate desire that lies at the heart of our being. We seek fire. We seek warmth, and we seek connection. The flame of a single fire draws travelers near who seek comfort. In standing together, each traveler adds their own fire to the burning blaze, and in time such a blaze becomes an ember that can heat the entire world. It has been thus since the dawn of time. So was I unwilling to let the flame of my Brother die. I believe that with life, there is strength. We all carry the fire of Noble Qing’s Dynasty within us, whether Cog or human, and it is our duty to see it carried to the ends of the earth.”
“Well,” Yoma-Dur said with a gruff cough. “Surely you are satisfied with that, good Longhua? This is the answer of a Rank 3. I would expect something of this nature from a Mental Master. Your Disciple understands the teachings of your Sect well.”
“But does he practice them as well as he preaches?” Longhua murmured, anger billowing beneath his words. “His actions could provoke a war that we have sworn not to become part of.”
“And yet he acted in defense, Brother,” Yoma-Dur said. “In his eyes I can see that this is true.”
“If punishment is deserved,” XJ-V finally broke in, pain smeared across his every word. “It should be visited on me alone.”
The congregation turned to now look upon the Cog again, attention drawn away from young Feng’s brave stance.
“Ah, so the wayward one does have something to say, after all?” Longhua said, punctuating his question with a hoarse laugh that echoed through the hallowed halls of the Dragon. “Go on then, Disciple, tell us what you saw in the outside world. Tell us what became of you.”
XJ-V straightened up as best he could, his every movement a strain against the emergency buzzers still going off in his brain.
“I set out with the same purpose as Brother Feng – to save a Cultivator that once walked these very grounds under your tutelage, Master Longhua.”
“And in doing so,” Ori’un interjected. “He saved my life and the lives of every single villager of Tekal. Does that mean nothing to you, Lonhgua?”
“Do not address me!” the Master snapped, his Brother leaning forward to hold back his rage once again. “All I am hearing is that this whole debacle could be attributed to you, Planeswalker. You and your insidious influence over my Disciples.”
“Do you trust them so little?” Ori’un replied. “Do you really think these two warriors are not the masters of their own minds?”
“I believe even the brightest light can become dimmed by the darkness of novelty.”
“Peace, Brothers,” Yoma-Dur urged – clearly the mediator of this entire trial. “This argument shall lead us down no path at all. What we must decide is what is to be done with these two Disciples, now. Brother Longhua – as Master of the Eternal Dragon, the decision of course rests with you. But if you would heed the wisdom of your Brother of the Ego, exiling these two souls would be more of a hindrance to your Sect than a boon.”
Longhua heaved a heavy sigh, then puffed out his chest as his eyes rested on the nonchalant face of Ori’un once more. He looked at Feng – at the absolute sincerity in his posturing and beliefs – and then looked to XJ-V, eyes catching the light that was still flaring at the exposed center of the Cog’s chest even now.
“I know this,” the Master of the Dragon said. “That is why I came for the sorry fools.”
If guilt was something that a Master like Longhua could express, XJ-V saw it on his face. He saw the wrinkled lines grow heavy and his old jowls hang looser than usual. He saw the eyes of his Master look beyond them all, passed this moment, to what future might now await them in the wake of the Xu’Jan’s death.
The Xu’Jan…
XJ-V had a multitude of questions he needed an answer to – what happened to the army of Sheloth, how fared the villagers of Tekal, and how exactly had Longhua known when to appear like an emissary of the old Gods to collect his fallen warriors.
But the deep, clear voice of Ori’un breached all of these thoughts as he spoke, after having waited for precisely the right moment.
“If I may, I believe I have a solution that will placate you both.”
What he said next confirmed something XJ-V had always known: Ori’un was the slyest Cultivator to ever walk these grounds.
