Old Li, now outside of the ruins, was joyfully strolling on a forest path; his slow movements did little to hide his speed, as with each step he would launch himself a few feet forward. He would occasionally close one eye and look through the vision of his red eyed familiar to confirm that the fallen boy had remained. Old Li’s grin grew more garish with every look. Originally, the boy was a simple meal he had chanced upon, but he quickly realized how wrong he was.
This was a holder of a pure soul! Normal souls, while growing the power of any demon, would give rise to impurities. However, pure souls were like ambrosia. Not only would such a soul wash away any impurities he had but it would also consolidate his foundation. If he had not found something to offset his growing insanity, then he wouldn’t have lasted much longer! Perhaps this is what the scholars meant when they said ,“finding a treasure when most needed!”
He gave a ragged laugh. While the others were scrambling for filthy souls in the ruins and performing rituals to purify them, he had found something worth so much more!
The boy was so precious that if he had walked into camp, like Old Li originally intended, then the other demons would quickly abandon any pretense of cooperation and a blood battle would ensue. He truly was lucky that the boy fell over early!
Old Li smiled, his own eyes had finally caught sight of the boy. His feet skidded on the dirt path for a few moments before he came to a final stop, inches away from the boy’s body. With a wave of his hand he sent the eye that was dutifully floating above the boy to scout the surroundings - all the while his mouth watered. This treasure would soon be his and then he would teach that whore a lesson!
His mouth opened to give a laugh, but before he could the color red filled his vision. He tried to speak or yell, yet all that came out was spit. Then everything turned black. Yet his last thoughts, surprisingly, were of liberation and comfort…
The man pulled his spear out of the decrepit demon’s skull. With a quick whip of his arm, his bloodied weapon became clean. What was left of Old Li, was now a dead body surrounded by blood and brain matter. However the man had no disrespect in his mind, he quickly knelt down, mixing his worn robes with the dirt, and put his hands together in prayer.
No words were uttered, yet a moment later there was a brief flash of many colors. It had lasted only for a moment, but what was seen was the souls of many being released into the afterlife.
The man inhaled a deep breath and as if on queue, the woman who had been trailing Old Li, made her move. She swung her magical dagger towards the back of the man’s skull. The man made no movements and let the dagger move unhindered, till finally it struck. Yet there was no blood, viscera, or even the ripping of flesh; the dagger simply passed right through. The would be assassin knew that she had erred, and not just with this engagement. She had underestimated the man, even after only realizing his presence after Old Li died. She could blame the fact that her target was Old Li from the start, but errors like this caused death. But neither Old Li or the man mattered anymore, ever since she saw the boy, she knew that it was the real gem of this engagement. If she could simply get that boy’s soul, the tables would be turned! Her legs shifted, as to lunge towards the child, however, her plans were cut short. A firm hand grasped the back of her skull and locked her in place. The hand slammed downwards with a swift motion. The earth was the last thing she saw.
The man exhaled and removed his clean hand from the crushed skull beneath it. He then knelt down and put his hands together. Once more there was a flash of colors and the departure of souls. In just brief moments, two great demons, Old Li and the one who had provoked him, were now dead.
The man stood up and stared at the bodies. For a brief moment there was pity and sadness in his eyes; those feelings were replaced by resolve. He walked towards the boy who lay fainted on the ground, an unexpected factor in his engagement with the demons. He knelt down and checked the boy's pulse. His diagnosis? not beating, still alive, yet it revealed something far more disturbing. Immediately, a hundred actions and plans flit through his mind; what remained was a look of true pity and sadness. He sat there, his knees digging into the dirt as he stood frozen. His palm neared the boy’s skull and stopped above it. Part of him wondered whether he should kill the boy now, before he walked down the path. All it would take was a push, and then the child could pass onto his next life. The child would suffer less, and so would the world. There is still a chance right now, but in the future… The man’s thoughts argued for action but in the end his hand moved away. He could not do it. Minutes of indecision passed, all the while the man simply stared, till finally his glare once again turned into one of resolve.
He lifted the boy from the ground onto his shoulders. He then stood up and picked up his spear. As soon as he did, the elegant spear dulled and became gnarled, till it was identical to an old walking stick. The man then walked down the forest path. His destination was the ruins of the city; there were still more demons to vanquish.
When he arrived at the ruined city, hell once again descended on it. Many demons died some while fleeing, most while fighting. Yet by nightfall all conflict had ended and the man had already knelt into prayer. Perhaps if there were others to see, they would see the beautiful colors of starlight moving onto their next life, but there was only a fainted boy and a pious man.
Days passed and the boy remained asleep. The diagnosis also remained. What disturbed the man further, was that the boy looked no worse after days in this state. Seeing this, the man left the boy in a still standing house and instead dedicated himself to digging graves and giving rites of passage. Those who heard the news of the siege and the ruined city eventually came as well. Some helped, some mourned, most looked for possessions.
A week passed, the smoke had finally been quenched by harsh rains and time. The activities of those in the ruins remained the same, yet fewer came and more left. The man soon concluded his activities as well. While there was still more to do, he had to leave. He uncovered the fainted boy from the desolate house and placed the child into a handwagon, the only possession he took from the ruins. He had no one to bid farewell to nor anyone to care, but he was used to it so his leave was as quick as expected.
Time passed, few crossed roads with the man. Those who did either felt instinctual disgust or fear when seeing the man and gave no words, only a hastened pace. The man seemed to care little.
He travelled without rest or meals for days, yet he looked no worse for wear. The wagon fell apart however, so he then carried the boy on his back; noting that the diagnosis was the same. No pulse, still alive…
The journey continued on, they passed many people and many landmarks. The man however, avoided all villages and settlements. Two weeks of travel later, with the boy still fainted, the man turned away from the road and entered the wilderness. The forest did not obstruct him, nor did the eventual climb as he steadily went up towards the mountain. He kept climbing till the trees became sparse and the boulders became more present. Hours into his climb, he finally stopped. Ahead of him was a large stone wall, sealing off what seemed to be the mouth of a cave. As if there was nothing in front of him, the man simply walked through it, revealing a flushed stone interior inside with only a stone bed, and a straw mat. Along the ceiling were various runic lights, that gave a soft glow over the small, lonely room. The man went ahead and placed the boy on the slab, before sitting on the worn mat and meditating. A moment later, various multicolored runes pooled around the boy; it seemed that it would take some time before the boy’s diagnosis was erased.
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The boy awoke with his eyes closed and his body brimming with warmth. He was lying on soft air, floating and attached to nothing. He felt a great bliss and reverie; the warmth and comfort only grew. It was truly a wonderful state, with no end and no beginning; however, as soon as that thought arrived an end came. His eyes snapped open and he awoke…
There he was, lying on a cold, hard surface. He tried to look around only to be blinded by the shimmering glow around him. A stale, clean smell tickled his nose; then his stomach wrenched. He felt empty, weak, and cold. There was no warmth or bliss, simply destitution.
As if someone was watching in pity, the lights immediately dimmed down; he now noticed the soft blue lights scattered above him. Looking around, he then saw how small of a place he was in. A mostly dark room with faded edges, no furniture. It was what he imagined the inside of a tomb to be, but it lacked the treasures or any trace of opulence. Still, tomb or not, it wasn’t where he wanted to die. He grunted, and ungracefully tilted off the stone surface; his legs swung down lifelessly and touched the hard, smooth floor. As his body slipped down and weight was put on his legs, a series of pops went through his body and he grimaced in pain. He let out a breath, simultaneously letting go of the stone platform and placing all weight on his legs; instantly a shock ran from his left big toe to the rest of his body. He stopped; unknowingly, a thick coat of oily sweat was already covering him. It felt like he was already drained of any energy, weak and lifeless. He felt dizzy, his eyes gazed downwards, and his legs were shaking, but he still felt resolve; For some reason, he just couldn’t find it in himself to stop and rest. He tilted his head back up in an effort to move forward, only to be cut short by his own yelp of surprise. Ahead of him was a figure, illuminated from the darkness like a snake. The figure emanated dread, distaste, fear, callousness; the list of evil things went on but the boy couldn’t help but see what it really was. A tired, old man in an even older black monastic robe.
Yet the contradiction of a peaceful old man was quickly destroyed when he spoke.
“Sit, save your strength.” he said with a tone of derision and fury, his image appearing as a great beast. The boy, already somewhat frightened by the man’s sudden appearance, disregarded the pain and intuitively sat down.
The man sighed with a hateful indifference. He glared at the boy for a few moments before speaking with his evil tone once more, “It’s good that you’ve awakened. Just rest for a bit... I’ll be back soon.”
And so the man disappeared into the darkness. The boy could only imagine he was being taunted, or this monstrous person was gone to prepare some spices to stew him with. He knew he had to get out of this place, but he also had to play it safe. His intuition told him that if he made one wrong move, he’d lose all chance of escape. So, the boy waited and listened to the silence. There was nothing, only the occasional hum of the magical symbols. Minutes more passed with the same sounds creating a background silence. He could only assume that the man was gone but his body still shivered in fear. However, before his fear could stop action, a bubbling sensation wrapped around him like a blanket of comfort. Bravery welled from within, and the boy made the decision. Jolts shook through the boy’s limbs as he began to get up. The feeling was far more disturbing than painful, but focusing on the feeling would have to wait. The boy pushed himself up. Surprisingly, the exhaustion was much lesser this time and he was able to limp across the room, albeit with some effort.
It was still somewhat dark, but he was able to find his way around the room sized box through touch. It really did seem to just be a stone box. Stone floor, stone walls, stone ceiling and all the while there seemed to be no exit, windows, or anything that led outside. The only things he found besides the stone slab, which he was lying on before, were the various engraved symbols around the enclosure, and an ordinary straw mat. He noticed that there were two types of symbols. A type that glowed, which he could easily notice, and a type that didn’t, which he could only find through touch. After brushing his fingers across the inactive engravings once more, he confirmed that both had similar structures. His only hope was that one of the inactive symbols could open a passageway of some sort. The issue was he knew nothing of these engravings or even magic. How these things glowed or what they did eluded him entirely, what eluded him further was how he ended up being captured by some demonic sorcerer.
Still, he continued to look through each inch of the box; it wasn’t long till the same heavy exhaustion started to hit him again, and then, a jolt of pain arced through his spine. His thoughts became hazy and he blacked out. Moments later, when he regained awareness, his palms were pushed against the wall and his legs were shaking uncontrollably. Once again, a bubbling feeling arose but this time it wrapped him in a blanket of strength. He immediately pushed away from the wall with a newfound strength, till all weight was on his feet once more. With a scoff, he began to search around more. Part of him felt it was hopeless, but he simply knew that he couldn’t give up. The last time he had woken up, he knew nothing of what was going on. Now he knew even less. If he kept on falling further, he would never get a grip of this madness around him. His thoughts focused around the inactive runes that littered the walls. There had to be some way to use them, afterall, the old man had to have left somehow.
He intuitively reached back towards the wall and rested his hand on an engraving made of curved lines and sharp segmentations. If he could just reach out and use it, any of the runes for that matter…
Unknowingly, his mind began to clear and his thoughts focused; like a spear, his intention struck the rune. His focus snapped back to himself, still unsure of what had just happened. What he had just done didn’t feel like a slight fancy; it seemed like the right thing to do, even if he didn’t quite understand why he had done it…
His expectant eyes were suddenly blinded and he was sent reeling back. His feet slipped and he fell onto the stone ground. Luckily, he barely managed to catch himself, but not so luckily, he felt extremely cold. He fainted shortly after.
The man was picking through the forest, his mind clear like spring water. But occasionally, as he picked away at the ground, he felt an unbearable loneliness. He wondered if there was ever an end, if it was all worth it, and how things could have been different…
He noticed the train of thoughts and cleared his mind; his breath only stopping for a moment to do so. He then counted through the herbs he had picked and set back towards the mountain. It only took an hour for him to go up, courtesy of the pleasant weather. The boy would likely enjoy the fresh air.
He arrived at the stone door, and simply walked through it. Once inside, he noticed that every rune he had placed was brimming with magic. He shuddered, his eyes immediately finding the boy fainted on the ground, with a pale countenance. He carefully lifted up the boy, and quickly placed him onto the stone slab. He closed his eyes and reached out into his surroundings, immediately all the runes dimmed. He then focused back towards the stone slab. The runes on it lit up once more in a bright array of colors. He looked back down at the herbs he had collected and placed them at the foot of the slab. He already knew that the boy only saw him as something vile, but it didn’t make him feel any less dejected. He began to move back towards his meditation mat, yet he stopped only steps away. A staredown between him and the mat commenced. He knew what he had to do, but instead he turned away and looked back towards the boy on the stone slab. The boy’s pale skin was returning back to its warm color. With that, he sat down, still away from the meditation mat. He looked down at his own hands. They were both covered in scars and calluses. He stayed looking down, memories of the past flitting away; his thoughts lingered on an open field, small houses and fences littered across it. At the end of every month they wou-. Then he caught himself and once more stopped his breath to clear his mind. He leaned back onto the stone floor and stared at the blue lights on the ceiling, till eventually his eyes drooped and for once in a long time, he fell into slumber.