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yi-dashi-a · 6 years

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//This is kind of a non-drabble of a drabble. Half written as a stream of consciousness, and inspired by recent thoughts about Yi’s grandpapa. The theme is: I do a poor job of making him sympathetic. Iunno. Take it as it is.

A Day in the Life of Yi Heng.docx

His father had wasted somewhat over the years. His bones were not yet chalk, for the mountain chill ensured his skin would still cling to his form, but it was as if the slightest breath would turn the once proud Wuju Master to dust. Heng risked it however, for he felt true comfort in thumbing the man’s still proud robes as they draped off his burial slab. He liked to softly caress his cheek bones too, for he still remembered how distinguished they were when they had healthy flesh upon them. It was a shame his eyes had sunken away by now, for he used to like to look in those as well.

It must have been two centuries since his father had passed, yet he still remembered the day he placed the man upon this slab.

But “Yi Wushi?” someone called, and immediately he felt his soul be doused by a torrent of grim realization. Suddenly he was all too aware of the openly broken bones he lay hands on, and the sound of a body thudding to the ground from height made him tear his gaze away. Even if the sound imagined, these things marked the end of his visits, “I have a hunt. I hope it’s to your satisfaction.”

“I’m coming.” He called back, and his own robes, mirrors of the deceased at least in style, billowed about himself as he turned on his heels, “… Hopefully today, Master.”

The catacombs had a well walked track throughout their halls, carved, no doubt, as the creator of the place heaved excess stones out and away. Glowmoss lit his path up hand sahped steps, and even in it’s absence showed him where his own digging efforts had taken place. Rocks were hardy, but his stone tools, perseverance, and able-bodied students were hardier. All their efforts would be repaid when they got to rest here, after all.

Up and down, twisting around. Voices carried much faster than steps in this place. Perhaps that was why whosoever had inhabited this mausolea over the millennia decided to inscribe the walls with deep set carvings and written works. Cleverly, some of the wall tales made sense walking both ways, though he had long since grown disinterested in them as an art form. Instead he liked to mindlessly run some fingers along the carvings as he walked, as if somehow the sensation would translate their meaning for him. He’d been doing it for so long that the wall had notably smoothed over time.

Eventually however the caverns opened into a great hall, carved to Wuju specifications. Seldom stone pillar -- that had amazingly been carved and not placed there after the fact -- sometimes got in the way of training, but they also stopped the mountain from collapsing on their head. Today it seemed no training was going on though. Instead, contrasting the dark, cold stone with it’s red life’s essence, the corpse of some goat like creature lay upon the floor.

“Da-Kahd?” His tones were distant; to anyone who heard him and to himself. Stern. Authoritative even in a single word, “What is it?”

“I don’t know, Master.” The man’s tone was equally as stern, though he had an astutely learned quality to his voice. Just as he demanded of his own, “But it is meat, a lot of meat, and it should feed us until Da-Shei returns with supplies. I’m happy I was even able to slay it. Once again, I hope we all feed well from it.”

“Meat? You don’t know what it is? What if it is toxic?”

“I—”

“--And I am not impressed.” Was how Heng chose to say, ‘Well done,’ “You should be able to identify your hunts. I am sorely disappointed, but prepare it anyway. I will decide if it is to my satisfaction when the three of you eat it.”

“I… Yes Master…”

“Da-Zhy! Da-Izu!” He summoned them with a bellow that reverberated with such satisfying tones, and the man tending to the meat knew better than to flinch. Two other men ascended from the crypts, and though urgency was apparent in their eyes their steps were locked in rhythmic sequence. As they presented themselves to him, he chose to turn towards an ornately carved slab on the northernmost face of the hall. He ascended the thing without any care for the men who waited for his command, even taking his time to sit before them upon the raised rock. They had to wait until his back was appropriately arched before they could bow before him.

“Yes Master?” They both said in tandem, to which he idly waved a hand towards the carcass,

“Prepare that meat.”

“Yes Master…”

And so they did. Meticulously under his silent vigil, they disembowel the animal. Though this place wasn’t meant to be sullied with waste such as this, he’d allow it so long as he watched them clean it afterwards. Children surely only became useful once they reached eighty or so. That was something this time in ‘exile’ had taught him.

Gradually, in a gratifying way, cuts of meat were presented before him like offerings, and the three men with their bloodied hands came to prostrate before him when they were through. He smiled internally, but externally his expression was the same as always. It wasn’t yet time to let his smile show. His empire would surely be bigger than cuts of unidentified meat and three men. One day…

“… Would you all die for Wuju?” He asked. Not a soul flinched. Good, “Da-Zhy, would you die for Wuju?”

“This day, and every other day in this ageless life you have given me.” The man kept his stance firm, speaking into the stone as he replied, “I would die for Wuju.”

“Da-Izu? Would you?”

“This day, and every other day in this ageless life you have given me.” He had trained them so well since their childhood days that their voices almost sounded the same, “I would die for Wuju.”

“Da-Kahd, what say you?” But the silence that followed was disgustingly offensive. The third man, the hunter, did not answer, “Da-Kahd?” He kept himself bowed before his Master, but he seemed to refuse the man, “Da-Kahd! Would you die for Wuju?”

… The man began to cry. Heng wouldn’t stand for it.

Though he should have struck the other two men for shuffling when the tears slowly crept into the echoing space, he let them be this time. He rose and descended as if flying on the motions of his regal attire, looming over his student as his wails intensified. There were no punishments when he stopped between the man’s butchered kill and himself however. Not yet, “Why are your crying, Da-Kahd?”

“I don’t know…” His tone was earnest, but the sobbing still prickled his ears in a way he detested, “Master, I don’t know, but… B-But this day, and every day of my—”

He kicked the man in the head, point of his metal boots to his temple. Da-Khad fell to his side,

“You don’t get to say it to me now.” And again. He kicked him again and again in the stomach. His words were calm, “Tomorrow you try again, do you understand?” All his student could muster was a wet splutter, though before he could lose the contents of his gut Heng turned his gaze to his still bowing students, “Gather the meat. Store it away. Cook it at your leisure. Do you understand?”

“Yes Master.” They said. Good boys.

He ensured to keep at his assault until all the meat was carted away, turning the man over and over as the force of his blows hit his midsection. When the other men were gone from sight was only when it was over, “… Do you understand what you have done?”

Da-Kahd took his time, but the Master gave him this one leave of anxiety, “… Yes Master.”

“There will be no food for you this night.”

“Y-Yes Master…”

“Gather yourself, meditate outside, and when you recover your Awareness, come back before me.”

“Yes Master. I’m sorry—”

One my strike, for good measure, to his head. He stopped speaking after that.

“There is no room in this world for sorry. You merely do as I say, and you recognize your mistakes when I point them out to you.”

Once again, he was up upon his perch, though he’d much rather be back down in the depths of the crypt. He found so much better company with the dead than he did the living. It was a shame he couldn’t join them any time soon...

#WUJU THRIVES IN STORY NOW 『Drabbles』#tw: dead body #tw #trigger warning #just in case yi's grandpa being a weirdo is somehow too weird #also #tw: abuse #for... him being him #bleh #good to get these vibes out of my system get outta here yi grandpapapapapa

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