Sky Pride

Epilogue 3- The Bureaucratic End of a Gallant Trooper

Yue Yao was every bit the valiant cavalryman. He had sworn with his brothers that he would die in the saddle, and so he did.

He gave a damn good accounting for himself before he fell, knocking down three Yuu with his crossbow, and two more with his saber, before a lance deflected off his heavy iron collar and punched up into the underside of his chin. The iron head of the lance drove through his throat, ripped open his jugular, and even severed his spine. The last thing Yue Yao saw before the darkness overtook him was the young captain and Silent Han breaking through the blockade.

It seemed just a moment later when he heard a cheerful voice saying “On your feet, trooper! We have a busy day, and you don’t want to keep those great ones waiting! Not when you have good news waiting for you.”

“Come on, come on. Do you know how busy we are? Ayah, would we even be taking special care of you if it wasn’t for that Lord’s request? And you still dare drag your feet.” This voice was stern. Yue Yao had spent a lifetime responding to voices like that. He was on his feet before his brain knew what it was responding to.

Well. Not his brain, exactly.

Standing in front of him were two curiously dressed gentlemen, a tall, pale one in white robes, and a short, dark faced man in black. Both with tall hats, both with chains wrapped around their left arms. On the white robed man’s hat were the words “Become Lucky Upon Meeting Me.” On the black robed man’s hat were the words “Arresting You Right Now.”

“Trooper Yue Yao sees the officers!” He cupped his fist and bowed sharply. He would have genuflected, but they had just told him to get on his feet, and a wily old soldier had to use his brains at least as much as his balls. Or so an old ten man commander had once told him. Yue Yao died before he got that old. The lesson stuck anyway. Seeing the Black and White Impermanences inspired instinctive obedience. At least, they did in him.

“Yes, yes, come along. Before you ask, we have already seen to your brothers. They will be well looked after. We just need to collect one last fella before we return with you.” The White Impermanence smiled, gesturing with a wide fan out towards nowhere in particular on the steppes.

“Little bastard thinks he can run. Thinks he has all kinds of tricks to avoid this constable. But what tricks haven’t I seen?” The dark faced impermanence sneered. They were walking. Yue Yao wasn’t quite sure when they started walking, but they were definitely walking and even though he thought they were walking normally, they seemed to be moving even faster than he could on his horse. And the Red Plumed Army had the best horses in the Broadsky Kingdom, outside the Palace Defenders.

They came to a place that needed no introduction for a veteran. Immortals had warred here. Powerful ones. The earth was torn and destroyed, burned, broken, poisoned. Who knows when anything would grow here again? Who knew what might grow when it did?

The Black and White Impermancies slowly circled the battlefield, then simultaneously lashed out with their shackles. A body appeared, each arm pinned. The chains crawled upwards, spreading like ivy, forming an iron collar around the newcomer’s neck. Yue Yao could see long iron spikes on the inside. It would encourage the captured soul to move along when the Impermanences yanked on the chain.

“Zhi Yuan, you will be coming with us.” The White Impermanence spoke with more sorrow than anger, as though he grieved for the sinner before him.

“Not cutting any threads now, trash! You kept us busy, but we knew we would have you in the end.” The Black Impermanence sneered.

“Step quickly, you two. We have to make a few stops before you see the magistrate.” The White Impermanence urged them on.

“This isn’t right. I had-” The heretic once known as Threadcutter tried to speak, but was cut off when the Black Impermanence yanked on the collar.

“You had nothing. Did you think the Earth Prison is so easily escaped? Our Lady is above billions and below one. We get everyone, eventually.”

Yue Yao kept his mouth shut. Experience had proven that you could talk yourself into trouble, but you couldn’t talk yourself into good fortune. Besides, if the stories were true, he wasn’t due to have a relevant opinion for at least the next fourteen years or so. Possibly longer. He would have said he didn’t have a guilty conscience before he died. He very much did now.

They were standing outside the walls of Burning Flag City. He wasn’t sure when they had walked there, surely they had only been walking for a few minutes, but here they were. The walls had gotten bigger. He was certain he hadn’t shrunk; the walls were definitely bigger, covered in iron plates etched with gold symbols. Such an ancient script was beyond his limited grasp of reading, but he knew what those symbols meant anyway. “Protection.” That, and the seal of the emperor.

“Officers Xie Bi’an and Fan Wujiu coming to report to-”

“Yes, yes, please, you have said this so often today this little monk’s ears are ringing! Come quick, lest this mendicant’s problems multiply.”

The voice was a bit odd, shifting between the austere authority of an old monk and the frantic brightness of a young man. Yue Yao’s spine, or the ghostly remains thereof, stiffened. This time, he very nearly did fall to his knees. The White Impermanence caught him under the armpit and kept him up. A few more steps, and they were inside the city walls. Another step, and they were at the Shrine of the Martyr Venerable. It seemed a lot bigger, now.

There were dozens, if not a hundred, finely dressed people standing in neat rows along the path to the main shrine, each carrying a slip of paper with the word “Petition” written on it in vermilion ink. The Impermanences shoved them aside with casual indifference. One of the finely dressed sort puffed up with outrage. “Rude! Do you know who I am?”

“A useless landlord god who will be seeing his lordship on account of impeding official business. Or do I have you mistaken?” The White Impermanence hadn’t stopped walking to answer. Neither had the Black one. The landlord god went pale.

“Ahaha. I misspoke, I misspoke. Forgive me, forgive me.”

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They didn’t bother responding. They bowed before the doors of the shrine, which opened silently for them. Then they entered.

The City God was seated awkwardly on a golden throne, looking like he desperately wished to be anywhere else. There were reams of paper piled up in front of him, shifted about by four exhausted looking land spirits. The City God was smaller than Yue Yao had expected, still wearing his ragged robes and battered basket helmet. A golden robe kept hovering around him, trying to land on his shoulder only to be swatted away. Then the City God looked up and caught Yue Yao’s eyes, and suddenly he was bigger than the city walls. Bigger than mountains. The moment passed.

“Trooper Yue Yao, stationed in my Burning Flag City for fourteen years. Honorable service record, no serious crimes within the city, you have been filial as best a fatherless son could be, and you managed to earn a modest sum of merits. No soldier dies without sin upon them, however. You killed many who didn’t need to die at your hand. You burned camps, turned a blind eye to slavers, stole horses from those outside the Kingdom and looked away when your brothers in arms violated women. And men. And, in the case of one trooper already boiling in oil, children.”

The words came without anger or pity. The pitch of the voice kept shifting, making it impossible to guess just how old the City God was.

“Yue Yao has no excuse.” He bowed at ninety degrees, and held it.

“You might as well straighten up, it’s not this little monk you have to beg for mercy. Most of your sins came while you were following orders, obedient to the will of the Son of Heaven. That spares you a lot. Not all. This mendicant’s benefactor did ask for you to be looked after. Unfortunately, merits and sin cannot be transferred between people.”

Threadcutter straightened up at that, looking like he wanted to say something. The City God fixed him with a glare and shut him up. “Heretic, you were so lost to sin, you couldnʼt even see the crimes you committed. This little monk, these constables, the magistrate, we all know what you were doing with that infant’s spirit. It wouldn’t have worked, but you did disgust us by trying. All those schemes where you thought you were “Cutting the threads of fate,” and declaring that you, alone, were truly free… the gall! The unmitigated arrogance of you. With your piddly little cultivation, you dared speak of fate? Did you think if you committed so many atrocities, the heavens themselves would look away from you?”

The Black Impermanence chuckled as the white one shook his head.

“No, this little monk will hear nothing from you. His ears are deaf to the words of heretics. You will say all you need to, and will hear all you must, from King Yan. This little monk only regrets that your death came too easily. The Magistrate will remedy that.” The City God sniggered. There was no other word for it. A distinctly un-godly snigger came from under the basket, and his strangely ageless voice turned a bit gloating. “Fortunately, you died just before he retired. This mendicant hears he is being very strict with punishments in his last few decades in office.”

Yue Yao’s eyes shot wide. Did he really just hear that? Did it really mean what he thought? He struggled mightily to control his face, and thought he succeeded.

The City God saw through him at once. The ragged monk sighed, somehow becoming even smaller. “Trooper Yue, those Landlord Gods outside represent various neighborhoods and households in the city, none bigger than a few small blocks. They answer to these Earth Spirits, cursed to… given the important responsibility of assisting this little monk in his duties, which are endless. Defending the city wall is one thing. But answering petitions? Consulting with the City Lord and the Magistrate on every little thing? Do you know how difficult it is to sort out winter quarters for all the souls in this city, let alone making sure they have winter clothes, in a siege? But it’s one of this mendicant’s most important duties, and if we don’t prepare now, this little temple is doomed!”

The White Impermanence coughed. “As I said earlier, your assistance to the mortal Magistrate’s office in solving crimes has been wonderful, and of immense help. Besides which, itʼs not strange if the City Lord wants to consult you often. Your Lordship does outrank him, and he treasures your guidance.”

“Outrank him? Which of us can have the other flogged if he’s derelict in his duties? He can have this little monk’s sacred image burning in the summer sun if this mendicant doesnʼt bring enough rain. Enough rain. In the steppes! You can understand if this little monk is finding all this a bit overwhelming as a first posting. This mendicant would be brave and say it was just for three years, like the previous City God’s term was supposed to be, but someone decided to make the appointment open ended.” There was a bitter bite to the god’s words at the end.

“You aren’t a mendicant. You have a permanent residence.” The Black Impermanence “helpfully” corrected.

“The point, Trooper Yue, is that the landlord gods answer to the land spirits, who answer to this little monk, who, through a series of hierarchical seniors including the Imperial Ministry of Rituals of the Broadsky Kingdom as well as the State God, ultimately reports to the Goddess Queen of the Earth, who, herself, is one of the Four Heavenly Ministers below the Celestial Emperor. Being a city god is a civil service job. An important job, but a job. One with a pay schedule and performance evaluations that go on permanent records. A job that has the opportunity for promotion, demotion, fines, floggings, and even execution. Should one be very careful, and very lucky, one might even honorably retire.”

Yue Yao did his best not to stare. He found a point on the floor near the god’s feet and fixed his eyes on it. That was usually safe.

“King Yan also reports to the Goddess Queen of the Earth, but through a different chain of supervision. Our two offices work in concert to see that our superior’s intentions are carried out. That Honorable is both a ghost and a civil servant who has accumulated innumerable merits. The senior deserves his retirement, and should he choose it, a superb reincarnation. He is also kind enough to give a new junior in a different department a bit of unearned face.”

Yue Yao had the feeling that the City God was giving him a tired smile, over all the reams of reports, and all the chaos of managing this war-wracked city.

“Merits and Sin are not transferable, but debts and grudges can be recalled, and favors done. The kindness Benefactor has done for this city, and for this little monk personally, cannot possibly be equalled by putting in a request for clemency on behalf of a few soldiers executing their duty honorably. Especially when those soldiers had attended this little monk’s investiture. Go with our blessing, Trooper Yue Yao. Be brave, and take your punishment like a soldier. Once you are relieved of your sins, you will be reborn into a good life.”

“Unlike some.” The Black Impermanence whispered in Threadcutter’s ear. Everyone heard him anyway.

The City God dismissed them with a nod, then looked back at the papers with a sigh. He fiddled with his white rosary, a few of the beads stained red. “Any chance any of the petitioners have come with tea for an offering? This little monk could be quite generous if he could just get a pot or three.” Yue Yao caught the words directed at an earth spirit just as he was hustled out the door of the shrine.

“Come on you two. Diyu awaits, and the lines can be quite long.” The White Impermanence shooed them along. “You have a question, Trooper Yue?”

“Is it true that the underworld is a network of eighteen hells?”

“Not at all. In fact, it looks pretty much like the Capital. Tons of homes carefully sorted by rank, restaurants, tea houses, shops, rivers, bridges, trees, quite a lot of flowers, famous landmarks and naturally, pavilions and courts. We like to say that when a civil servant dies, they are just being reassigned.” The White Impermanence chuckled. So did the black one, catching Yue’s eye.

“There are thousands of realms of torment, Trooper. We add more every year. The living keep inventing new ways to sin, and we keep inventing new ways to punish them for it. Lucky you had someone put in a kind word, eh? Even in Hell, you need connections.”