Chương 34: B1 Chapter 34

Daoist Scouring Medicine blinked. It was already oily. Oh. He'd already done this section, hadn't he? He ran a finger along the stone fur, slicked with unguent. It was strange in texture. Unlike anything the daoist had ever encountered in his century of life. Disciple Zhang and Daoist Enduring Oath both had skin like stone. It was not an uncommon affliction in the Azure Mountain Sect. Not common either, in absolute terms.

But they had more experience with partial petrification than any of the other great sects, on account of how many of their cultivators pursued practices that drew heavily upon earth and metal. Partial petrification was among the most common physical manifestations of an excess of yang earth. It was also generally regarded as irreversible. Earth was not an element inclined to change course, and once settled, tended to remain. Elder Weeping Lotus had made great strides in treating the condition's symptoms.

It was her recipes that allowed Daoist Enduring Oath enough mobility to continue working at his forge. Unfortunately, her works were universally palliatives, not curatives. Yet, they were reliable enough that the daoists of the sect did not wholly scorn the practice of tempering their skin with earthen energies. With proper care, it could even be a boon. Stone skin could turn aside lesser blades without any effort on a daoist's part.

For a monster like Ren Yuhan, lesser blades covered a great deal of weapons forged beneath the heavens. Even Elders Xun and Lu were said to utilize variations upon the practice, though both of them favored metal over earth. But Li Hou's stone fur was unlike any other case Daoist Scouring Medicine had seen. So very close to a statue. Extending deeper than Daoist Enduring Oath's craggy skin or Disciple Zhang's metallic musculature, all the way to Li Hou's organs and bones.

No temporary transformation either, like the steel body Elder Xun had displayed when he challenged Ren Yuhan for Sect Master Xiang's vacated seat. Daoist Scouring Medicine knew his disciple was dead. Everything he'd learned supported that hypothesis. He knew so many things. He knew a mortal monkey could not be taught to speak. He knew the Mind-Opening Pill was ineffective for beast taming, requiring too many treatments for marginal gains in intelligence.

He knew the Fourfold-Marked Rot Worm had no higher realm evolutions, or alchemical uses. He knew the worms certainly had no potential to be refined into Gu, which was a difficult and hazardous process that no orthodox alchemist could simply bumble their way through via trial and error without devastating a countryside. If these so called facts were considered knowledge, what was knowledge worth? Daoist Scouring Medicine also knew that stone did not have as much give to it as Li Hou's fur yet maintained.

And he knew their were stories about stone monkeys. Stories every loremaster and daoist knew to be fantastical and without a shred of corroborating evidence. He wondered, how they knew this. How could one disprove something said to be as rare as a connate core? Historians doubted the existence of those. Stone monkeys, they outright denied. A disparity perhaps worth investigation. Daoist Scouring Medicine blinked. It was already oily. Oh. He'd already done this section, hadn't he? His mind was wandering.

He'd already finished this latest application. Li Hou's fur was as saturated with ointment as it could be. It wouldn't do much. But it should keep any further earthen qi from being drawn into him from the environment, and if they were lucky, it might draw out a small amount of the excess of yang earth already within the monkey. The transformation was not yet set, permanent. The unnatural form still needed power to sustain itself, even after the rate of change had slowed to a crawl.

Starving the phenomena of the energy it needed was the best Daoist Scouring Medicine had been able to come up with. Each dawn, he would scrape the stone monkey clean, then lather it up once more with a greasy paste containing ingredients heavy in wood and metal qi, to subsume and overcome the earth. It would work. At least until he could think of something better. His stores were getting low. Not all of these plants came from his garden, or were abundant in the wilds. Especially the metal-aspected ones.

He would need money, soon. Weeks, at best. That was fine. He would do whatever was necessary, to acquire it. Poverty was not a real problem, like petrification. If Elder Lu's price to allow him to work again was that he lick the Goldfinger's slippers clean, then so be it. He would apply the same care to the task as he did to applying Li Hou's ointment. What was his pride worth, if it could not save his disciple? Daoist Scouring Medicine blinked. The fur was already oily. How long had it been, since he slept?

What a silly question. Why would that matter? Sleep deprivation wasn't a real problem for a cultivator of his realm. Not like petrification. It had only been a few days. Three. Or five? Definitely not more than seven. So much work, so many sheets of paper that had all ended at the same unbridgeable gulf. If he needed sleep, he would have fallen asleep at his desk. Unless he was abusing stimulants. Daoist Scouring Medicine blinked, and looked down.

The bottle he kept his snuff in was on his desk, not stored safely away from Li Hou's curious tongue. It was almost empty. Was he abusing stimulants? It was only mortal medicine. Tobacco and wolfberry root. But he was pretty sure it'd been more than half full last week. Perhaps he should sleep. There was a knock at his door. Daoist Scouring Medicine blinked. He was doing that a lot. His eye itched. A vein pulsed somewhere deep in his head.

He must be sleep deprived indeed if Disciple Yang had made it all the way to his door before he noticed the foreign qi. It was tempting, to turn the boy away. But he needed resources for Li Hou. And the boy was rich. A daoist could not beg for pocket change. But perhaps if he dropped the correct hints, the boy would bring appropriate gifts. He took another pinch of snuff, then a second. He put the empty bottle away. It was a fashionable habit for a mortal, a crutch for a cultivator.

But he needed what remained of his wits to make it through this conversation. Daoist Scouring Medicine opened the door. Disciple Yang Wei stared blankly at him. Oh. He'd moved before the disciple had knocked. He probably was not used to that yet. His parents were not very accomplished, and his uncle was reputedly... Loud.

"Disciple Yang Wei." He said. That was an appropriate greeting, wasn't it?

"Daoist Scouring Medicine. May I come in?" Li Xun nodded, and led the boy to table. A table in his kitchen, where his working materials had not yet managed to spread. The two men stared at each other. The boy was so young. Society would call him a young man. But he couldn't be more than sixteen. On the older end, for an initiate to the sect. But having seen the far side of a hundred, he found it difficult to see the difference between Yang Wei's sixteen and Li Hou's six.

Oh, he was supposed to say something, wasn't he? Disciple Yang Wei suppressed a shiver. Daoist Scouring Medicine's stare was... Intense.

"Is Li Hou occupied with cultivation? I would speak with him."

"Occupied." Daoist Scouring Medicine's tone was odd. He placed a strange emphasis on word as if there were some hidden meaning to it Yang Wei would not grasp. Yang Wei could not divine even a trace of the man's true feelings from his expression.

"Yes, he is occupied."

"I see. Please inform him of my visit, when he exits seclusion."

"I shall." The two men lapsed into an awkward silence. Yang Wei's stomach roiled. This was not going well. Daoist Scouring Medicine did not offer refreshments, or inquire after any of their mutual acquaintances. Yang Wei struggled to find any way to transition to his question about cultivation that did not sound... Grasping and mercurial. He opened his mouth to simply swallow the bitterness and ask, but Daoist Scouring Medicine spoke first.

"He speaks well of you, you know."

"What?"

"Li Hou. He thinks you are... How did he phrase it? Less human, than the other initiates."

"What?" Yang Wei repeated.

"It is a compliment, from his mouth. He is disdainful of much of humanity. He thinks we have a habit of overcomplicating simple matters, and standing in our own way. For him to say a man is more like a monkey is high praise. He appreciates the way in which you judge him upon his own faults and merits, without bending to the words and preconceptions of others." Yang Wei found himself filled with complicated feelings. He was not the most gifted at speaking with others.

He struggled to make friends and command loyalty as effortlessly as some of his cousins did. It was one of the ways he most feared he would not live up to his uncle's legend. Yang Shui attracted heroes to his banner like moths to a lantern. Yang Wei seemed only to attract sycophants and brown-nosers.

"I suppose I feel much the same in the other direction. He is very human, for a monkey."

"I suppose he is." The monkey's master agreed.

"He would love to hate hearing you say that." This time, when Yang Wei opened his mouth, it was not a sound that interrupted him. To Yang Wei, Elder Lu's presence had always felt like an auction hall or palace. His qi carried with it a curious sort of weight. Not a physical pressure, but a sense that fortune turned upon his will. As if one might rise to the heavens, or fall to the underworld, depending on what words next came out of their mouths. Yang Wei had always hated it.

It was domineering in the worst sort of way. Intrusive, intimate, and dishonest all at once. Daoist Scouring Medicine frowned momentarily. It was the first indication of true feeling Yang Wei had seen from him today.

"I suppose I should get that." Yang Wei rose and bowed, as Daoist Scouring Medicine greeted the sect's elder. The man turned to Yang Wei next.

"Young Master Yang." Elder Lu's voice felt decades younger than his face, commanding and powerful.

"A pleasure to see you again."

"Elder Lu. Your presence is always an honor. My father sends his regards. He insists that you come visit him at the Yang Clan's estate in the country, after the Seventh Prince's visit." Yang Nianzu would never forgive him, if he didn't at least say that much. His father had trained under the man during his own years at the Azure Mountain. Half a century on, the two remained close.

"What do you want, Elder Lu?" Daoist Scouring Medicine asked bluntly.

"Come now, there's no need for such haste. Our fourth has yet to join us. Or, I suppose, we have yet to join him."

"Li Hou is indisposed."

"There's no need to be so surly. Such ill-fortune could happen to any of us. We both know that company will not harm him. I imagine little could, these days. Disciple Yang should see what has happened to his fellow initiate." Yang Wei frowned. What was Elder Lu talking about? Daoist Scouring Medicine opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking. He turned, and led them down the hall. Yang Wei did not gasp, when the door to his workshop was thrown open. But it was a close thing.

He'd heard the rumors, about Zhang De. He hadn't put much stock in them, he'd found the man a bloviating fool the few times he'd interacted with his senior. He had the same swaggering pride as Xiao Long, but far less talent to back it up.

"Such a pity." Elder Lu said, almost sounding like he meant it.

"The monkey was a remarkable find. I'd heard such good things about his growth. If he'd been born human, he might have been a credit to the sect's name."

"Yes." Daoist Scouring Medicine ground out through gritted teeth.

"He was truly remarkable."

"My apologies, for interrupted your discussion, Young Master Yang. Would you be so kind as to excuse your seniors? I'm sure Daoist Scouring Medicine would be happy to continue your discussion at a later date."

"Of course, Elder Lu." What else could he say? One did not say no, to a man like Elder Lu. Yang Wei took one last look, memorizing Li Hou's anguished face. The way one stony hand covered most of it, as the other was frozen desperately reaching for aid. His mouth tasted like gall and ash. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He turned and left, leaving his seniors to decide the monkey's fate.

All the strength of his arm, all the authority of his family. What was it worth? He was not a man who wanted much. Simple food satisfied his tastes. The standard robes of the sect's initiates were more than comfortable enough for him. He did not long for drunkenness, or feel the need to rest upon gilded couches. Even in weapons, his taste was moderate. So many nobles of lesser standing carried into battle disposable treasures that cost more than his finest spear. He'd wanted to fight Li Hou again. Not desperately.

But more than he'd wanted most other things. The idea of a rival untouched by political considerations, an equal that his parents wouldn't insist he bow his neck before, or crush under his foot. It had been a pleasing idea. Even if one day he would leave the monkey behind. Yang Wei found he did not wish to surrender it.

"You have cost the sect a great deal, Daoist Scouring Medicine. Perhaps one day I shall tally it all up, and show you the cost in its fullness." Li Xun said nothing. He did not disagree. It was very hard to do so, standing before Li Hou's stony form. But he was not so thoroughly chastised he would echo the sentiment.

"I think it is well past time you begin to make recompense." Elder Lu continued.

"You wish to save the beast, yes?"

"Yes, Elder Lu."

"Good. Elder Weeping Lotus has not been idle, while you have been finding new daoists and disciples to cripple. She has made great strides in the search for a cure for Disciple Zhang. I suspect she understands your arts better than you do at this point. Their risks and potential complications." Elder Lu paused, waiting for acknowledgement. Li Xun bowed his head.

"Yes, Elder Lu." He repeated.

"I have no doubt she does."

"You belong to the Medical Pavilion now. You will report there before dawn tomorrow. You will perform whatever work Elder Weeping Lotus puts you to. You will expend your qi in its entirety on her behalf, refining whatever ingredients her stores need. You will answer any question she puts to you, without regard for the sanctity of your practice. You will assist her research in whatever capacity she allows. For this, you will receive neither payment nor credit. Am I understood."

"Yes, Elder Lu."

"Good. You will serve the good of the sect in whatever capacity you are put to, until you have repaid your debts to it. It should go without saying, that Elder Weeping Lotus will prioritize Disciple Zhang's treatment over Disciple Li's, and you will do the same. Yet I say it all the same, because you seem to experience some difficulty identifying right action." Li Xun bowed his head.

"As you say, Elder Lu." He'd lost. Even if his second project reached completion, what was the point? The Azure Mountain Sect was the single greatest source of learning on Li Hou's condition in the empire. Only an imperial doctor, or a true hidden master, would have any chance of knowing more than Elder Weeping Lotus.

"Do not surrender all hope, Li Xun. I am not a merciful man. Mercy granted to the undeserving is nothing more than a perversion of justice. But I am not a merciless one either. Balance the scales, and I will see your disciple healed, and honor returned to your name. You are not a young man, but you are not an old one either. I think diligent service will see your penance will be complete before half a century passes.

The sect will use you sorely, but if you are fortunate and canny, you may survive to see your monkey returned to flesh." Li Xun felt a stranger in his own body. He knew what must be done, and so his body moved of its own accord. How fragile, pride was. He leaned forward, and knelt. His forehead touched the ground.

"It will be as you say, Elder Lu."

"Yes. It shall."

Three monkeys sat silently in the darkness. Or, perhaps, two monkeys and a man. Orange-crest wasn't sure how he would count Shan. He was clearly a human. But he still insisted he was orange-crest, which would make him a monkey. A dubious claim, but the symmetry between him and drunken ape, the way they both resembled orange-crest, gave some weight to it. This place was not a true place.

Orange-crest had learned that there were more mysteries beneath heaven than he had ever dreamed, but he was still quite certain there could only be one true orange-crest. That meant this was something else. A strange dream, perhaps? It didn't really matter what it was, all that mattered was how orange-crest should handle the situation. He needed to get back to his brother, figure out what had happened to his body.

The monkey shuddered, throat tight, at the memory of the crystal-clear mud climbing up his chest, pressing at his lips. He stuffed the memory down, it would not help him now. Orange-crest stared at the young man, Shan. He would be the key here, one way or another. Big-crest hardly seemed to care one way or another what orange-crest did. He was content to drink and make snide comments, and he had plenty of both to go around. It was very difficult to trick a monkey that did not want anything.

All the best tricks began that way. With something the mark wanted so badly they did not test the limb before they leapt. And Shan really seemed to want orange-crest to make a choice. He wanted that badly enough he did not even care if orange-crest did not choose him, so long as he chose.

"Glowering at me will not change anything." Shan said.

"One cannot simply wait out their fate."

"Says you." Orange-crest retorted.

"Yes, says I, the one who knows."

"Ehp. Euraagh." Big-crest's satisfied sigh was obnoxiously loud in the confined space.

"You know everything, it seems. Yet none of this knowledge lets you convince our little brother to do what you want him to." Shan's orange eyebrows furrowed delicately.

"I know how this ends. What do I care, how long it takes him to see and accept it?"

"A lot." The two true monkeys said in unison. Orange-crest turned to look at big-crest and smiled. Big-crest met his eyes and snorted. There was no affection in his eyes, but amusement was not nothing. His breath was bad. Even from six monkey-lengths away, it was awful. Worse than red-eye's.

"Pah." Shan did that strange human thing where they acted like they were going to spit, then didn't.

"Go ahead and walk his road then, if you're so certain I'm wrong." That was a good start, but he wasn't quite irritated enough yet. Orange-crest would have to keep working on it. According to Daoist Scouring Medicine, he was very good at annoying people when he put his mind to it.

"Can I have a drink?" He asked big-crest first. Big-crest turned a considering eye upon the jugs of wine that filled his cave. There were too many still filled and sealed for even such a mighty ape to drink in one sitting. Dozens upon dozens, scattered amidst the empty ones.

"No." There was no room for negotiation in the ape's voice. Damn. The finer details of Orange-crest's plan were still brewing, but the crucial step would be a lot easier if he was drunk. Daoist Scouring Medicine had taught him the human art of probability, and with it, orange-crest had determined he could only make a moving illusion two times in ten when he was sober. Maybe he could sneak a jug? Orange-crest turned back to Shan.

"Why I have to choose?" He demanded, deliberately dropping a word. Shan didn't like it when he spoke incorrectly.

"The Heavenly dao ordains it."

"But why?" Asking why a lot was really annoying, according to Daoist Scouring Medicine.

"If I tell you, will you make a choice?" Shan asked, gritting his teeth. Orange-crest put a paw to his chin and looked at the floor, pretending to think deeply.

"Probably not." Shan blew air out his nose angrily. Big-crest laughed, picking up another jar.

"Then why should I tell you?" Orange-crest didn't pretend to think this time.

"If you don't, I definitely won't choose. Maybe if you do, I will."

"You know what? Fine. Sit up and listen well." Shan said, hopping off the broken couch he'd been perched upon. Orange-crest focused. He focused harder than he ever had before. His qi flowed out, coating his fur like an oily shell. He was going to pay attention. This was very important information that would inform his decision. He was definitely not going to sneak a drink. All these thoughts, he pushed into the thin shell of qi around him. Orange-crest relaxed, and leaned back on his butt.

He fell backward, rolling over his shoulder, leaving the qi behind. Neither Shan nor big-crest said anything. Orange-crest stared at the back of orange-crest's orange crest. This was getting ridiculous. There were four of him now. The illusion sat up perfectly straight, as if a stick had been inserted all the way up its butt. His back ached in sympathy, as he watched the ultra-attentive monkey.

"Birds and beasts beyond counting roam the earth. Creatures great and small, of every form and nature. Despite their many differences, almost every spiritual beast beneath heaven will eventually reach the same place." Shan's voice was like Daoist Scouring Medicine's, when he got in a lecturing mood. As much as he respected his brother, orange-crest hoped he never started to sound like that. The more he used this technique, the less orange-crest felt he understood it. Why was he invisible?

The qi was no longer around him, so how did it affect him? Maybe he was leaving the part of him that was seen behind, and only the part that could touch was moving? Even in man's tongue, he lacked words for this. He'd learned so much at the knees of daoists, but so much of what he'd learned was how little he truly knew. The real orange-crest sat down behind his illusion. He leaned to one side, then the other, carefully measuring angles.

The three monkeys were seated in a triangle, with no small distance between them. His illusion did not fully obstruct their views of the jar he'd placed it in front of. But the room was dark, and only lit by the sputtering embers of big-crest's cook-fire. The rapidly shifting shadows should provide him just enough cover for small movements to go unnoticed.

"When animals cultivate, they often reach a point where their form limits them." Shan continued, clearly enjoying the sound of his own voice.

"Those without hands struggle to see the mysteries of art and craft, those truths men call formation design or feng shui. Those who roam alone cannot learn the mysteries of community and rulership. No shape can grasp every facet of the great dao, but some shapes are better equipped than others. To overcome these limitations, they face tribulation. Most are doomed to fall, but those rare few who overcome their trials are blessed in return. The Heavenly Dao is fair and just.

It does not punish without cause, or test without reward. For most beasts, this reward comes in the shape of humanity." Despite his need to move quickly, orange-crest found himself entranced. How did Shan know all this, all these secrets about the shape of the world? Orange-crest certainly didn't, so how could Shan also be him? Was Shan blessed with knowledge he might acquire in the future, as big-crest was with girth and might? Or, a more suspicious part of orange-crest wondered, was Shan something else entirely?

Even the great ape was paying attention now. He sought to hide it, staring up the ceiling as wine dripped down his chin, the thin rivulets disappearing into fur thick enough to turn blades on its own. Now! Orange-crest heaved, lifting the jar the slightest distance off the ground. He carried it just a few inches to the side, where its lip was fully concealed by illusion-crest's head. Orange-crest ripped into it, the wax soaked cloth was so old it tore like paper.

Instead of giving away the game by tipping the jar, orange-crest just stuck a paw in. It wasn't very good. But he wasn't drinking for pleasure. Still, that was a mark against big-crest. So much wine in his lair, and it wasn't even any good. He lapped up frantic handfuls as Shan's long-winded speech began to draw to a close.

"Blessed with heaven's favor, they dance between the shapes of man and beast with ease. They walk among men, and learn new facets of the dao. If they are truly lucky, one day they may ascend to the heavens, cleansed of all traces of their base origin by the glory of deification. There are three creatures beneath heaven that do not do this. Men, monkeys, and dragons. Men are already men. If they take another form, it is through a spell or technique, most oft a transient transformation.

Heaven favors them in other ways. A dragon grown can always take a human form. It is no great struggle for them, for no matter what shape they wear, they can never be anything but a dragon. And monkeys. Monkeys choose. Man, or beast."

"But, why?" Orange-crest asked.

"Because they are too similar."

"But, why?" Orange-crest smiled, as a vein pulsed in Shan's forehead. How human he was becoming, that the expression felt natural to him these days.

"Because Heaven ordains that we choose."

"But, why?"

"Gah!" Shan shouted.

"I'm done pandering to you, idiot. Make a choice! Rise to the heavens with me, or descend to his level." Oh, Shan was ready now. Pissed off and set to burst into rage. Phase one was complete. Now it was time to dangle his desire in front of him.

"He's right, you know." Big-crest's voice was surprisingly soft, an odd sound coming from the beast soaked in blood and wine.

"You'll understand it, if you live among them long enough. For a human, a true beast can be a mount, or a pet. They'll tolerate an animal in their world, if it knows its place. But we are too smart. Too capable of all the same things they are. Invariably their curiosity gives way to fear and avarice. You do not need them." Shan snorted, his jaw still taut with barely suppressed fury.

"Not exactly what I said, but he's not wrong. Normally, this moment comes later in our lives, to those few who live long enough to reach it. But your choice is before you now. So make it."

"Fine. Why choose you?" Orange-crest asked, standing up and stepping closer. It would all come down to this. He really hoped he understood how this dream worked.

"Stop stalling." Shan said, rising in turn. He too moved closer, but he kept his distance from big-crest. Damn.

"You know what I offer. You've seen it, in small part. I'm the reason you stayed, when that daoist carried you from the mountain. All the things you lacked the words of dream of." Orange-crest turned to his titanic alter-ego, and tilted his head.

"I do not justify myself." Big-crest growled.

"Unlike the two of you, whatever storms heaven might send, I could never wish to be other than I am." Curses. Big-crest didn't even get up. They were still too far apart.

"But what about being a bird? Don't you want to fly?"

"Birds are wonderful." Big-crest agreed.

"For eating."

"Birds are not one of the options!" Shan hissed.

"Choose!"

"Choose." Big-crest agreed. Orange-crest staggered. The world shook without motion. The dark where the fire did not touch grew deeper, more still. He was running out of time. Was it because they finally agreed on something?

"If you don't choose now, you will find stone to have been chosen for you." Shan said gleefully. Human-shit. He was out of time, but the plan was still missing a step. There was no choice but to leap. Orange-crest stood between the two figures. The two futures. He didn't want either of them. And he was so very tired of other people telling him what he could and could not be. Orange-crest split once more. His hope stepped forward, turning toward big-crest. And his cunning stepped back, carefully circling around.

"Another too afraid to grasp their potential." Shan said.

"A pity, Li Hou. I was really hoping you had what it takes. The heavens are not so full that they would not welcome one as talented as you." Big-crest was still drinking. But he only needed one hand for that. The great ape extended it carelessly. Illusion-crest stepped forward, and reached out his own hand to take it. Nothing happened.

"It's not working." To orange-crest's surprise, the sound came from the correct mouth. The terrible sour rice wine was doing its job. He'd never managed sound before.

"What!" Shan shouted.

"What do you mean it's not working? That's not how any of this works!" Big-crest turned. His brows furrowed. He could see the hand, but felt nothing. It did not take a human to understand what was going on. Illusion-crest stared up at him.

"Please." He mouthed silently. The true-tongue did not normally work like that. One needed sound, to bridge the gap between different sorts of animals. But they were both monkeys. Both orange-crests. And orange-crest knew big-crest was not as simple as he looked. If he was like this, did that not mean he too had once been asked to make this same choice? How could that not gnaw at him? What monkey would accept its fate being dictated by others, save by force? Certainly not orange-crest.

Orange-crest's heart was in his throat. It felt like all the world turned upon this moment. Big-crest said nothing.

"Nothing happened. Am I doing it wrong?" Illusion-crest asked Shan.

"Let me see that." Shan stepped closer, and orange-crest stalked him, playing the hunter. He was only a few monkey-length's away now. It was a much better role than the quarry.

"What? How are you doing that? Are you touching him while desiring humanity?" Shan asked, his confusion seemingly genuine.

"What's the point of delaying?" The true orange-crest rushed forward, and shoved Shan as hard as he could. The young man wasn't large. He hardly weighed more than orange-crest, and had not been braced to receive an impact. He stumbled, then crashed into a wall of wet, sticky, fur. The true orange-crest slammed into him in the next instant.

"Guh." Shan choked out. Orange-crest grabbed both their hands, and pulled them together. Big-crest's massive arm did not resist him.

"You're both me. But if I have to choose a me, I choose the me that is me." Big-crest snorted loudly, showering the both of them with his rancid breath.

"No!" Shan shouted, struggling to pull his hand from the grip of the three paws that encircled it.

"You fool, you have no idea what you've done. What offense you've committed! They won't permit another! You're dead, as surely as if you'd chosen stone!" Orange-crest leaned forward, pressing his face against Shan's. He bared his teeth, drawing one of his fangs gently across Shan's smooth, hairless, cheek.

"Then you should've told me." The cave blew away, like smoke on the wind.