Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

Chapter 190

The Pain of Understanding is More than the Pain of Knowing

With dinner finishing with an unsavoury ending, Connie went to her room and slumped on a chair, her mood foul. Shortly after, there was a knock on the door. Illumca and Akula came in with a concerned look on their faces.

Connie took a glance at them and gave a perfunctory wave of her hand. “You’re here to complain about what I did.”

“I didn’t say anything. Did you?” Akula said to Illumca, who replied with a curt “No”.

“We didn’t ask, but you already said it, so we’re not going to say anything more.” Akula continued.

“I just gave him a reminder of his position.”

Akula shrugged. “It’s not like I fully disagree with what you did. But I think a good swing to the jaw would’ve left enough of a warning.”

“What’s done is done,” Illumca added. “If they have something to say about it, then they’ll have to say it to our face.”

“Alright, enough of that. Let’s drown that frown with some wine,” the Centaur said again, showing two bottles of wine that she procured from the cellar. They were of acceptable vintage. Less strong than the fermented goat milk named Moruk that she usually drank in her Clan, but it would do.

She then poured generously into two goblets held by Illumca, who offered one to Connie. The Centaur poured for herself one before downing it in one gulp.

After a few moments of silence, Illumca spoke. “Connie, we want to talk to you about Martell.”

“What about him?”

“You know, he did leave his job, but he returned stronger for it.”

“I know. I can feel it the moment I laid eyes on him. The Divinity radiating from him has become much purer, its intensity is now almost blinding.”

“So, why do you still want to punish him?” Akula asked. “Isn’t it good that he got stronger? He managed to become an Unrestrained Candidate! Do you know how many in my Clan would have killed to become one?” She did not say it, but Illumca could see it in her eyes. A tinge of envy.

“Disobedience begets punishment. That’s what it means to be a teacher. No matter how strong he got, he left his station and faced a danger that he could have avoided.”

“Wait, you mean…you were…worried?” Akula made a strange look.

“You have a strange way of showing it,” Illumca said.

Connie drained her goblet with a scowl. “Enough. I won’t budge on this.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. There was a slight hesitant pause before they heard another two knocks.

“Who is it?” Connie called out with a growl.

“It’s me, Mistress. I need to talk to you.”

“Come in,” Connie said, as she lifted her goblet towards Akula. Seeing this, she opened the second bottle with her thumb.

Martell walked in sheepishly with Nick following behind him.

Seeing the odd looks from Connie and the others, Nick scratched the back of his neck with a sigh. “The boy’s emotions are out of whack. He said he’s too scared to talk to you by himself.”

“Scared? Him?” Illumca raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Blame it on the curse. He’s a nervous wreck ever since dinner. But he said that he really needed to talk to you.”

“Can’t it wait until you’re…okay?” Illumca asked, not sure of how to phrase it. Martell’s normal state was not normal by any sense of the word. But she was used to the almost remorseless boy being, well, remorseless. Seeing him showing so many emotions was off-putting.

“I need to talk to the Mistress now, while it’s fresh from my memory,” Martell said, as he fell onto his knees in supplication before Connie. “But before that, Mistress, I want to ask for your forgiveness. Though I had a good reason to disobey you, it still isn’t right for me to do so, even taking Nick with me.”

“Yes. Almost forgot. You need to be punished also, Nick,” Connie said as she glanced at the scruffy middle-aged man.

“What? Come on! I’m just here for moral support! Why do I also have to be dragged down with him?!”

Connie waved him off before laying her eyes on the nervous Martell. “You know that you’ve done something wrong,” she began slwoly. “But do you know why I’m angry?”

“Be – because I disobeyed you?” he answered quickly, not daring to look up from where he was kneeling. Connie’s silence told him that he was wrong. “Or is it because I didn’t do good enough?”

“You are my servant,” Connie said, as she knelt in front of Martell and put both hands on his shoulder. Surprised, they boy looked up and saw her blue eyes staring straight at him. “But before all that, you are my Named Disciple. Do you know what that means? It is a bond as strong as family. Your shame is my shame, and your pain is my pain.”

“But you’ve made me fight opponents stronger than me,” Martell said, uncomprehending.

“That’s because I know that you can make it through,” Connie squeezed tightly. “But fighting something that even I could not survive? You think I’d let you fight against something like that?”

“I…” Martell suddenly realized, the sternness of her Mistress. Her anger. It was not because he disobeyed her. It was because she was worried for him. He was too blind to see it for what it was. A warmth similar to the one he felt when he thought about Autumn Rain Cicada enveloped his heart. I see. So, this is…a teacher’s love. “No. No, you won’t.”

“Good,” Connie said, giving the boy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now you know.”

“Thank you so much, Mistress,” he bowed deeply in gratitude as Connie stood up.

Connie threw herself onto her chair as she gestured for him to sit on a nearby sofa. “Alright, enough of that, you said that you want to talk to me about something.”

“Yes, Mistress. Honestly, the things that happened during these few days were so bizarre that I feel like I dreamed it all up. There were so many things I cannot make sense of, and it unsettles me.”

After he said that, Martell began to tell his story.

As the story progressed, Connie started to lean in with her fingers clasped, appearing to be deep in thought.

Connie’s eyes went wide as Martell described what he saw in his dream. Illumca saw the change in her expression and noted that she was squeezing her clasped fingers so hard that she could faintly hear her bones grinding together.

When Martell finished, Connie closed her eyes and leaned back.

“I see…” Sad memories washed over her like a wave on a lone rock. “I see now. Wu Qiuyu…you fool. You brilliant, foolish bastard. Was that how far you would go for him?”

“Mistress…?”

After a short silence, Connie started with a sombre tone.

“Autumn Rain Cicada, your Master, saw the future in which you visited Grunewald. After that, he saw the future in which you peered into his memory, where he gave you the clues regarding the future you should take. Thus, you are moving towards the future he had seen in the past,” Connie explained. Her eyes staring straight at him. “I shudder to think how many steps ahead he had seen. It made Akira’s True Clairvoyance look like a quack’s skill!”

Connie laughed, proud at her old friend’s accomplishment. But her expression quickly turned austere. “He never told us what was it that he was divining into that day that caused the Heavens to make its move. Now I know.”

“Mistress…I need to know. What happened to Master after he was struck by lightning? Did he…survive?”

“I…don’t know if I should tell you this in your current condition,” Connie said.

“Please. My heart feels like it’s about to explode,” Martell begged, a feeling of dread came over him. “But…I need to know.”

With a quiet sigh, the blonde young woman continued.

“That scene you described. I…remember it well. I remembered it because that was the time Autumn Rain Cicada’s Cultivation was reduced by a hundred years,” she shook her head with a deep sigh. “To peer into the future and alter destiny is something that the Heavens forbid. Thus, he had to face Heaven’s Judgment.”

“Why…? Why would he do such a thing?!” Martell demanded, standing so abruptly that the sofa was pushed back.

“Why?” Connie looked at the boy with a melancholic smile. “That’s simple. Because he loved you.”

“Loved…me?” Martell staggered back to the sofa, his breathing became faster and more painful.

“Yes. You are loved. Deeply so. No Cultivator would freely sacrifice a hundred years of Cultivation for someone unimportant to them.”

All kinds of thoughts popped up in Martell’s head.

His father, who sold his only son’s soul to a Demon.

And his teacher, who sacrificed a hundred years of his own life, just to give him a glimpse of his future.

Such self-sacrifice, all for someone who he knew he would never meet.

He clutched at his chest as pain like a thousand daggers being dragged across his heart overwhelmed him. He tried to steady himself, but failed. He missed the sofa and fell to the floor.

Akula reached out to help him, but Martell slapped the hand away and ran out of the room.

“Milady!” Nick said, accusingly.

Connie waved him away. “You should follow him. And when he calms down, make sure to tell him to go to the hut near the mountain where the servants keep their provisions and face the wall there for a week to reflect on his mistakes. Send food and drink to him twice a day.”

“You’d punish him even at this point?!” Akula said angrily. “Isn’t this enough?”

“Just do as I say,” Connie said wearily. “Now, leave me. I need some time alone.”

After they all left, Connie looked out of the window, towards the night sky. The wine was sweet, but it tasted bitter on her tongue.

Mourn, Martell. For this is the only time you can mourn his death fully and properly.

The fortune that let you know of his love, and the tragedy that took him from you before you even knew him. The cruel fate that separated you and him through time and space.

O Heavens, you are indeed…cruel.

Without thinking, Martell had run to a secluded alley, far away from the mansion, his face dirtied with snot and tears. There, he slipped on a compacted snow and fell upon his face. Though it was painful, it was a far cry from the torment that made him want to vomit.

Steep hills skirt the Green Forest,

White waters traverse the mountain’s crest;

A boy seeks the wisdom of an old tree;

And found that nothing is free

The pain of understanding,

Is more than the pain of knowing.

“The pain of understanding…is more than the pain of knowing,” Martell mouthed the poem that Autumn Rain Cicada bestowed upon him. “Haha…I see…I see now. It is indeed painful, Master! So painful!”

He slammed his fist against the alley wall, the pain somehow gave him some comfort. For a boy who had never felt such strong negative emotion, the experience was agonizing.

“Hurgul,” he sobbed as she punched the wall. Without Energy covering it, his skin was easily torn and blood seeped out from the wound. His sadness now turned into anger, a fury against the dark comedy that was his fate. “Curse you. You, and your whims! Why was I not born into a world where my Master was?! Why was I not born to a time when he was alive?! I curse you! I curse you and your name!!”

Half-crying, half-laughing in derision and hate, Martell then fell onto the floor, dragging his sharp nails across his arms, trying to numb the pain.

Yet it was useless.

“Ugh…urrgh…Master…”

The boy crumbled into fetal position and sobbed quietly.

Nick, who had followed him up to the alley entrance, leaned on the side, taking care not be seen. He put a hand on his pocket, where the diary of his late Mistress – Marie Gillenspie - was. Nick always had it with him, despite the pain that it brought him every time he was reminded of her.

After a while, he approached the sobbing Martell and placed a hand on him.

There was no response.

“Take as long as you need,” he said, as he made himself comfortable next to him. He let out a groan as aged limb creaked when he did so.

“We have all night.”