The castaway's amber eyes, once aglow with the vibrant spark of life, now mirrored the desolation that surrounded him—dull and dreary. The air was damp and heavy with the stench of decay and despair. From the bow of his dilapidated raft, he gazed out at the infinite expanse of the scarlet sea, the scenery reflecting the darkness that had settled within him.
His shoulders drooped in dejection, and his weary form sank onto the weathered planks of his ramshackle raft, the damp wood beneath him offering little comfort. His bones ached with the relentless motion of the vessel, each creak and groan a reminder of the ceaseless assault from the unforgiving waves. The raft, a mishmash of salvaged debris and weather-beaten wood, seemed to protest its existence as it battled against the tumultuous sea.
Once a desperate creation born out of necessity, the raft now bore the weight of the man's journey and the scars of countless struggles. Its oversized frame, meant to be a sanctuary from the crimson ocean of death, felt tiny and fragile in the vast expanse. It bobbed and swayed like a puppet at the mercy of the tempest, a reluctant dance with the relentless forces that sought to drag him into the abyss.
Each crash of the waves echoed the struggles he faced in life—persistent and unyielding. The sea spray mixed with the tears welling up in his tired eyes, leaving bloody trails down the creases of his worn and weathered copper face. The raft had become a floating purgatory that confined his mind to the very darkness he so wished to evade.
"Jailed before even reaching the prison," he muttered, a bitter edge to his words. His hands clenched into fists before opening in a gesture of helpless surrender. A weary sigh escaped from his cracked and swollen lips, drops of bloody ichor mixing with the despondent breath. His head hung low and spiritless, affording him a full view of his tattered and soiled robes. Even his now-festering wounds gaped at the ruinous scene around him.
"How did I even survive?" he groaned as he rolled onto his right side, a position that he hoped would offer a modicum of relief from the searing pain of his torn flesh. His head uncomfortably rested on the hard wooden logs forming the raft beneath him, the rough surface pressing into his thin and swollen skin, a constant reminder of his misery. His grisly, unkempt beard, rosy with ichor, behaved like a sopping wet rag that persistently threatened to slip into his mouth and choke him to death.
The irony brought a wry smile to his lips. "I avoided drowning in the flood, only to suffocate in my own facial hair. Such an end, who can ever hope to match the legendary tale of Ea, The Oceans of Wisdom?" he chuckled softly, though a sharp hiss of pain escaped him as he did so.
"At least this cell has a companion," he mumbled, his gaze resting on the infant yakshi, the nascent divine soul of a tree deity, that slumbered peacefully, resembling a flawless porcelain doll, nestled amid a cushion of newly sprouted lichen and the roots of the majestic banyan tree at the stern of the raft.
"A thousand years, no time at all," he said with a mimicked tone. "How can Fate be so cruel to an infant? Even a day is far too long a rest for a newborn soul. Such cruel tribulations. The heavens never did harbor much fondness for the gifted," the man spat spitefully. "At least the balance must be maintained. Time will spare you, and Life will preserve you. A thousand years of stasis, lucky you kid," he added with a sardonic chuckle that disrupted the comfort of his recently acquired position.
Groaning again, he rolled onto his back, attempting to mollify his body's burning discontent. Lifting his left hand to his forehead, he finally exhaled a sigh of relief. Gazing into the inky clouds dominating the daytime sky—the perpetual night of the apocalypse—he whispered to himself, "Now, it falls upon me to find a haven where you can weather this storm." He sighed with a tinge of hopelessness, a cough punctuating his resignation.
In the hushed interludes between crashing waves, Ea pondered whether redemption lay beyond the horizon or if this world would always be shrouded in shadows. His lids drooped as the gentle sway of the raft beckoned him toward a well-deserved respite. For a time, it was peaceful; the raft drifted aimlessly, assuming the role of a mournful vessel in an ocean of regrets. But tranquility, however serene, is never eternal. This time was no exception.
As if a celestial bomb had erupted within the watery abyss, a tumultuous surge burst forth from the heart of the ocean, giving birth to a spiraling waterspout soaring towards the heavens. A downpour of liquid silk cascaded upon the ship, tossing the vessel like a helpless plaything in the upheaval. Violently jolted from his slumber, the castaway gasped and sputtered, fiercely battling for breath amid the relentless deluge. The raft pitched and groaned precariously in the turbulent sea, resembling a fragile leaf tossed by tumultuous waves.
Gasping for life, Ea rose on all fours, head hung low in exhaustion, expelling seawater with each tortured breath. He sputtered forth an ancient word, "šà huĝ!"—a command that cut through the cacophony of chaos. For miles around, a dome of sapphire light rose from the sea, nearly reaching the dark clouds above. Under this luminous sanctuary, raindrops descended gently toward the sea, carefully bypassing the raft entirely. The once chaotic sea transformed into a serene expanse, and the waterspout gracefully glided down a towering serpentine frame adorned with pearlescent scales to the tranquil waters below. The entire scene unfolded with hushed reverence, akin to a child cautiously treading around an upset parent, mindful not to disturb the newfound calm after a scolding.
With the water's retreat, only a behemoth remained. The colossus, previously concealed within the confines of the waterspout, now towered majestically above the abyssal sea. Azure radiance twirled upon its imposing form, turning its serpentine body into a tapestry of gem-like lights. The creature exuded regal poise, unperturbed by the prior mayhem or the ensuing calm. It elegantly lowered its head over the piddling raft, casting a looming shadow over the vessel's tiny passenger.
A breath, resonant and thunderous like the bellow of a titan, emanated from the giant dragon's maw as it confronted the puny human figure. Struggling on all fours, Ea weakly raised his gaze to meet the piercing stare of his colossal visitor. The immense carnelian orbs, marked with dark reptilian slits, locked onto the castaway's astonished eyes, which now glowed with a mysterious power. In that intense moment, a silent communion unfolded between the feeble man and the guardian of the deep. To the discerning eye, the imposing dragon exhibited a slight shudder, a fleeting tremor likely attributed to the frigid temperature of the sea—certainly not stemming from fear or apprehension. Any mention of this shudder would be expunged from official accounts of this encounter in the future.
"Jun'er, is that you?" Ea croaked. "Damn brat! What in the world are you trying to do—finish the job? Drown the drowning? Get your ass down here, you little hoodlum, or I'll strangle you with your whiskers!"
The colossal serpent dragon's form bowed its head as it dissolved into an ethereal phantasm. From the space where the head once loomed, a young boy descended like a swift arrow. His glacial white hair, surpassing the length of his body, flowed behind him like a majestic cape caught in the wind, partially shrouding the golden dragon insignia on the back of his soggy white robes and blood-red hanfu. The wet thud of damp clothes hitting the raft echoed into the distance, dispelling any lingering notions the man had about the scene being a mere hallucination. With a sigh of relief, Ea slumped onto the raft, and the celestial shell above silently crumbled, enveloping the two in darkness once again.
Jun surveyed Ea's wretched state, his eyes reflecting a blend of empathy and appreciation. Taking a slight calming breath, a rather punchable smirk crept onto his face, though it held more hints of mischief than malice. "You look about as good as a beaten dog!" he declared with a touch of playful exuberance, extending his drenched albino arm in greeting. Then, with very deliberate intent, he vigorously shook his long hair dry, drenching the man in even more ichor.
Ea wiped his face dry with his dirty sleeve, a wide grin spreading across his weather-beaten features. Not even all the ichor in that wretched sea could dampen his spirits at this moment. "I've had better days," he agreed with a heavy chuckle, "but you're still ten thousand years too young to call me a dog. Have your scales even grown in yet?"
"My adult scales sprouted a hundred years ago!" Jun shouted defensively, his shoulders drooping as his confidence wavered under the weight of Ea's ridiculing remark.
Ea nodded in understanding, "as I thought, barely a hatchling."
Jun sighed in defeat as he slumped down next to Ea. For a time, they sat together in silence, two solitary travelers on a mournful vessel adrift in the sea of despair. Then, breaking the silence, Ea spoke up.
"Tell me, where are the others? How many survived this disaster? Is there a place the flood hasn't reached?" Ea's urgency was palpable, his hope shining brightly in his gaze as he leaned forward, seeking some light in the endless darkness.
"You're seeking answers, and I don't have them, Ea'ge. My father sent me over here while he and the dukes cleaned up the mess in Arcadia. I'm just here to monitor the flood's movements and search for survivors. You're the first living thing I've found out here." Jun admitted with a heavy-hearted shrug.
"The flood has even reached the beast realm in the western wilds?" Ea asked with a desolate and heavy tone, his gaze shifting towards the west as if he sought the answer within its depths.
Jun looked sullenly at the sea and responded to the question with one of his own: "How can something unleash such destruction even in death? What kind of being harbors such toxic blood?" he said gloomily. His gaze lingered on the crimson-tinged waves, searching for answers in the bloody fluid.
As if summoned by the lament, the darkened sky above crackled with distant echoes of thunder. Sensing a shift in the air, Jun craned his head skyward, his eyes tracing an approaching disturbance. "I think your answers may have actually arrived, Ea'ge." Ea's eyes followed the direction of Jun's gaze, a surge of relief intertwining with a budding sense of hope and anticipation.
Thunder boomed, and the dark cloud layer glowed a bright violet. An explosion rocked the world, and a streak of purple lightning tore a hole in the clouds, allowing a stream of amethyst light to streak across the heavens. The light from the blue sky above revealed a minuscule glowing figure rapidly expanding as it hurtled towards the raft. A sonic boom echoed as the enigmatic silhouette tore through the air, gracefully landing in a kneeling posture on the raft. His ebony braids clashed with his black outer robes, billowing in the wind with an air of mystique. The world was thrown into upheaval by the elegant man's entrance; a tempest of wind, saturated with the amethyst energy he radiated, trailed for miles in his wake. However, while the world quaked, the raft remained a placid island, the collective strength of the trio aboard shaping and calming their immediate surroundings. The wind's newfound hue cast an ethereal glow on the scene as the elegant figure sat down heavily, still maintaining perfect posture but visibly drained.
"Told you," the boy said, shaking his head in helpless amusement, a wry smile playing on his lips as he appraised the elegant man's dramatic entrance.
"Anyone else in the mood for a drink?" the newcomer asked, his voice carrying a heavy tone that echoed into the distance without receiving a response. Undeterred, he nonchalantly shrugged and gestured with a wave of his hand, conjuring a silver flagon of wine and three golden cups. While his violet eyes gazed at the sky that was once again shrouded by dusky clouds, a lingering awkward silence prevailed. Resigned, the elegant man reached for the flagon, only to have a nimble thief's hand dart forward, snatching it away.
The elegant man's fingers twitched in irritation as he stared incredulously at the impetuous youth who vulgarly quaffed his wine. Clearing his throat to regain composure, the elegant man shifted his attention to Ea's disheveled appearance, a trace of sorrow marring his gaze. "I am sorry I arrived so late, Brother."
"No, El, you've come just in time," Ea began his response. However, as he spoke, the crass youth let loose a loud belch.
"Ao Jun! You could at least use a cup!" El shouted in frustration.
"How could I dishonor such a good wine by drinking it with a cup? It's not every day that you get to drink wine brewed by a primordial," the youth cheekily replied, flourishing the flagon in a toast.
"Brewed of a primordial," Ea calmly corrected, giving El a displeased sidelong glance.
El's dark countenance, typically stoic and composed, unexpectedly softened as he broke into a sheepish smile. This incongruent expression seemed so strange given his otherwise serious features that it created a momentary paradox. This paradox left Ea so puzzled that he decided to redirect his attention to the young dragon instead.
"After all of Great Mother Shi's teachings, how did you end up so boorish? She was the image of elegance and grace," Ea chided the youth, his tone tinged with disappointment. With swift movements, he harshly ruffled the youth's hair.
"Stop Ea'ge! I'll talk! I'll talk!" Ao Jun howled in distress.
"Go on then, talk. Who taught you to act so crude?" Ea inquired.
"It's what my father always says!" Ao Jun shouted defensively. "A king doesn't follow manners; manners follow a king," the youth mimicked with his head hung low.
Ea gave the boy's hair one more playful tug. "When you get the chance, deliver a message to your father from me."
"What message would you have me deliver, Ea'ge?" The boy said, soothingly rubbing his head.
"Just a couple of words: 'Do better.' Tell him they're from me, of course," Ea replied, his tone carrying a confident air.
Ao Jun's eyes widened with incredulity. "Ea'ge saying something like that to my father is the same as questioning his authority. He'll be furious with you."
Ea scoffed before delivering a sardonic reply. "And who am I, Tendo's Wise Ocean, to question the teachings of the Throne of Arcadia, The Great Dragon King, Longwang? Merely a humble servant, I dare not."
"Brother, when a Throne is shamed, their whole realm is shamed. Please refrain from carelessly insulting all of Tendo; even a great empyrean like yourself should shudder in fear at drawing the ire of every deva in the divine realm." El counseled, rolling his eyes at his brother's antics.
Ea tsked in displeasure. "And what do those timid birds know, hm? They live safely in their little floating cage while the surface world crumbles beneath them. Shameless! If any of them have complaints, they are welcome to come down to Gaea and voice them to me in person. Do you hear me, cowards?" His voice echoed toward the sky. "If any of you dare, then come right down to this raft and say it to me! Or even better, follow me as I bring this dirty ichor down to the Nether. Do you know how much time I'll have to spend in that damnable place to clean up your mess? Do you dare even step foot down there?" He shouted with disdain, his words piercing the air with righteous indignation.
"Brother! The council of elders will be livid, please." El pleaded, his voice laced with concern.
"Then let them be livid," Ea responded with a dismissive hmph, his tone unwavering.
"Yeah, you spineless chickens! Come down and witness the devastation of the earthly realms. Come see what's become of my home! We dragons would be overjoyed to host you!" Ao Jun's anger flared in his words, a flicker of flame appearing at the corners of his mouth before he spat into the sea in disgust.
El clasped a hand tightly over Ao Jun's mouth, his eyes flashing with warning. "My brother may disrespect the elder devas, but you may not, little snake," he hissed. "Hold your tongue, and do not follow his miserable example. Even your father wouldn't dare curse the elders like that!"
Ao Jun's eyes narrowed with defiance as he sank his teeth into the palm of El's hand, drawing a trace of blood that stained his lips. He lifted the flagon to his mouth, taking a sweet sip of courage as he regarded El with revulsion and hatred.
"Billions have suffered because of those spineless bastards, and yet you still sniff their asses like they're finely cooked round steaks. What a loyal dog you are," he sneered. "Don't you dare presume to know what my father would or wouldn't do. Make no mistake, he will hold those capons accountable and give them a nice char for turning a blind eye to this tragedy. I can almost smell their succulent meat now; it'll be a delicious feast."
He paused, his voice dripping with venom. "And don't you ever call me 'little snake' again! If you dare to do that, I'll relieve you of your own 'little snake'. Do you hear me?" With that, he savored another gulp of wine.
El's eyes narrowed to slits, his hand inching towards the blade at his hip. However, before the situation could escalate, Ea audibly cleared his throat, and the combative companions redirected their attention to the man. They were met with the sight of Ea covering his mouth with his left hand while holding the right up in mock surrender.
"I'll apologize for this in advance, ĝala dag," Ea's voice sliced through the tension, causing both companions to recoil. The sea below them seemed to solidify, and both El and Ao Jun's eyes widened with incredulity. Their bodies froze in place as if held by an unseen, inescapable force. The power Ea had so casually displayed was unprecedented, something they'd never witnessed or even imagined before. He could stop the world around him with a casual phrase. What level of power was this?
Ea coughed into his palm, leaving a bloody speckle behind. Casually, he placed the bloodstained palm down on the raft to support himself and drew in a deep breath, wincing slightly from the exertion.
"El is right, Jun'er. You shouldn't disrespect your elders and never underestimate Tendo's might. The council may be full of cowardly birds, but there is a stark difference between gutless and powerless. Remember that lesson, or one day you'll find yourself as the main course at another's table." Ea's hand landed softly on the young boy's head, offering both comfort and guidance.
Motioning to the devastated world around them, Ea continued, "We deva are to blame for this mess, but your family has paid the price." His gaze shifted to El, holding a weight of solemnity. "There is no defense for those who refuse to defend the defenseless or help the helpless. Remember the suffering caused by inaction. Engrave this memory in your heart so that you never waver when called upon to act."
"Now, with that, let's consider this argument resolved, shall we?" Ea slapped his thigh, intending to rise to his feet, but he faltered as his strength failed him, and the world resumed its motion. He chuckled slightly at his body's frailty.
"As you can see, you'll never know when you will be the one in need. El, lend me a hand, won't you?" he requested, his shaky arm reaching out to his brother.
El warily regarded his brother, his mind still reeling from the staggering power the man had just displayed. Fear gripped him tightly, causing him to hesitate, unsure how to proceed, as he struggled to come to terms with the magnitude of what he had just experienced. A mere utterance seemed to have frozen time itself—Ea had strength that rendered the might of a divine dragon and a sage on the brink of empyrean insignificant with a simple phrase. Was this still the domain of a deity, or had his brother transcended into a realm beyond comprehension?
Ea began to retract his hand, the familiar pang of rejection echoing in his heart. "So, you were a frightened bird as well," he muttered in a forlorn tone. But before he could pull his arm back entirely, Ao Jun stepped forward. Gently draping the frail man's arm over his shoulders, Ao Jun assisted him to his feet. The unexpected gesture brought a flicker of warmth to Ea's heart, amidst the overwhelming sense of dejection. "I can always rely on you, Jun'er," he expressed with a mixture of gratitude and relief, softly patting the boy on the back.
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"Of course, Ea'ge. Helping the helpless, it's not all that hard." Ao Jun smirked nonchalantly.
Ea smiled warmly and said, "No, it's not that hard at all."
Ea turned to his brother, his expression marked by clear disappointment. "El, snap out of it. Focus now. How many have we managed to save? Have you found any survivors? Did you reach anyone before the flood engulfed them?"
El's head hung low in shame as he replied, "I managed to save a pair of every species I could, Brother. They are all safely on the island under the Mountain Queen's protection, just as you instructed."
Ea sighed heavily. "So it's the worst-case scenario after all. Barely enough to repopulate."
"That may not be true," El interjected softly, his voice carrying a glimmer of optimism. "Other powers may have chosen to intervene, and there are still realms like Arcadia with an empyrean's strength to safeguard a group of survivors from the flood. In times like this, we can only cling to hope."
Ea shook his head, his eyes downcast with grief. "I know you're right, El, but at times like these, hope sounds so hollow."
"It may be hollow, but that doesn't make it any less real. Prepare for the worst, but believe in the best. You taught me that, remember?" El reminded his voice gentle yet firm.
Ea looked up to see his younger brother's head held high with determination. In those dark purple eyes, he recognized the flicker of resolve that had once stubbornly burned within himself. A small glimmer of pride welled up within him; this was the brother he knew. With a satisfied smile, he said, "You're not bad."
"Well, of course, I'm not... Wait, what do you mean by that?" El stumbled over his words, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"He means you aren't entirely hopeless," Ao Jun interjected with a playful grin.
Ea laughed as heartily as his body would allow. "You've done well, little brother. I feel confident entrusting matters to you while I'm away."
"Exactly how long do you intend to be away?" A captivating feminine voice, laced with a subtle threat, cooled the warm atmosphere, surprising the trio with its unexpected presence.
In unison, the three men snapped their attention in the direction of the surprise visitor. There, resting on the banyan tree, cradling the baby yakshi in her embrace like a protective new mother, was a woman of mesmerizing beauty. Her posture exuded a lazy authority, akin to a queen reclining on her woodland throne. She wore silken white robes adorned with the silver insignia of a tall mountain, and waves of silver-streaked amber hair cascaded past her shoulders like a waterfall of honey, flowing into the tastefully exposed skin peeking from a rather deep and full neckline. Her face, meticulously painted like an artist's canvas, remained devoid of emotion, yet her auburn eyes blazed with a fury so intense it threatened to ignite the surrounding air.
"And who, might I add, is this little bundle of joy?" She inquired, the hint of sarcasm in her tone adding to the already tense atmosphere as she stroked the baby yakshi's cheek with tender care.
Ao Jun's already impossibly pale skin lightened another shade as he turned to Ea, his eyes wide with fear. El conjured another flagon of wine from his invisible stores and shakily poured himself a cup. Ea visibly gulped, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as the threat of impending doom hung over him like an executioner's ax.
Ea forced a placating smile and spoke, "Nin Nin, it's been a while. I'm genuinely delighted you're here, my darling. I was just about to..."
"Yes, darling," her voice dripped with sarcasm, "it has been quite a while. Please refrain from using pet names in public, my love. You know how embarrassed it makes me. Ninmah, or the Mountain Queen, will do. Now, do answer my questions, my dear. You know how much I hate to be kept waiting, especially when my curiosity is piqued."
Ea felt an invisible noose tighten around his throat. "Of course, my queen, as you wish." He almost choked out the words, his voice strained with apprehension. "First, I will address the child. If you'll permit it, I'd like us to call her our daughter."
"I will not permit this; I do not remember ever giving birth to such a thing. Where did you pick up this stray, or should I ask from whom?" Ninmah raised an accusatory eyebrow in Ea's direction.
Ea massaged his forehead; he felt a headache brewing. "It's not whom or where. It's from what." He said with a tinge of uncertainty.
El spat his drink and started coughing heavily, while Ao Jun's mouth dropped in disbelief. Ninmah's eyes widened in horror.
"Husband," she began softly, her voice tinged with caution, "explain yourself immediately, and choose your words extremely carefully, or I fear Tendo's Wise Ocean will lose his heavenly spear today."
El's coughing fit intensified, forcing him to gasp for air between the violent spasms. Ao Jun, quick to react, offered a supportive pat on the back as he took a shaky swig from the almost-empty flagon of wine, his brow creased with concern.
Ea's mind drifted back to the fateful day he confronted the primordial in a cataclysmic clash of otherworldly energies. Despite the fatal wounds inflicted and the potent toxin crafted with an exceedingly rare and authentic dream dao flowing through the primordial's body, that celestial eye, which should have been sealed in an eternal slumber, defied all expectations and opened, a glaring defiance of logic and reason. Ea vividly recalled thrusting his weapon towards that eye, only to watch in astonishment as it liquefied and melted away from the man's skull, leaving behind nothing but a single tear of essence. As that final tear descended, it merged with a puddle of his own spilled blood, and a miraculous event unfolded—a tiny sapling sprouted forth, the genesis of an unknown life form in the world. The last vestiges of power drained from the primordial's body, and he dissolved into an endless crimson tide, flowing away to the farthest reaches of the earthly realms. All that remained amidst the fading echoes was the sapling and a flat piece of jade.
Ea knew he couldn't tell this story, so he did the only thing he could in the situation:
"When the primordial passed, he left behind a peculiar banyan seed among his possessions." He lied through his teeth, "Acting with utmost prudence and caution, I decided to seal it using my divine icon and my blood as a catalyst for the seal. Employing your clan's revered technique, the Eightfold Path of Naraka's Frozen Hell, I attempted to imprint the seal on the seed. However," he continued, his voice tinged with awe, "to my astonishment, instead of sealing, the seed miraculously sprouted into a sapling, which swiftly grew into the magnificent tree upon which you now recline."
Pausing for effect, he continued, "Just yesterday, this tree gained sentience, birthing the nascent divine soul you now cradle in your arms." His shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. "That is why I propose we call her our daughter. She may be unconventional, but born from my blood, she is no less my child. And from the conversation I had with her just yesterday, I can assure you that she is nothing more than an exceedingly talented and confused little girl in need of a lot of guidance."
With a deep bow and a tone of sincere supplication, he concluded, "I ask that you take her into your care and raise her as if she were one of our own while I am away. I, your husband, would be eternally indebted to you, and I know a great mother like yourself would never leave a weak and defenseless child to fend for herself in this miserable chaos. Please, my queen, I beg you to accept her into your heart and care for her with the love and compassion that only you can provide."
Ninmah's eyebrow arched at the subtle flattery Ea wove into his final plea. Something felt amiss about the tale he spun, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. Glancing down at the slumbering infant, her heart softened at the sight of the child's unique features—porcelain skin as soft as silk, and strawberry-blond hair with hints of vibrant emerald green. Despite the uncertainty shrouding her husband's words, one thing rang undeniably true: children were her weakness. She would never abandon a child, especially not in the current infernal landscape.
"I retract my prior statement; I will accept this child as my own, but I do have one condition," she declared firmly while gently pinching the little girl's foot between her fingertips. She waited for Ea to nod his head in agreement before continuing.
"When you return you will tell me her true origins. I'm no primordial, and I'm not an expert with incantations like you, but I can proudly say no one knows my clan's sealing techniques better than me, not even Tendo's Wise Ocean," she stated, looking at Ea as if he were a fool, "I know the extent of those techniques capabilities far too well to believe that whole story and any backwater sage could feel the dharma's influence on this child's body, let alone an empyrean. Did you conveniently omit the fact that she is facing two tribulations at once, or did you simply forget? I don't know why you're hiding her origins, but I do know there's a lot more to them than what you just told me."
She gestured a sharp swipe of her finger towards Ea's groin. "If you lie to me again, I will chop it off. Do you understand?"
Ea's lip quirked at the threat, but his mind breathed a sigh of relief. She was still the woman he'd fallen in love with. Her mind was sharp as a blade, and her heart was warm as a summer breeze. Ninmah was a beautiful person inside and out.
"Excuse me, but did you just say that child is facing two tribulations right now?" El interjected as politely as possible, though his eyes betrayed his disbelief. He looked at his brother with a strange gaze.
"Of course. Do you think I'd mistake the influence of Life and Time on this child? It's so obvious that even you should have noticed it, or perhaps you're too far away to have felt it. Come here, see for yourself," Ninmah replied calmly.
El stood up and hurried to Ninmah's side, sensing the chaotic blend of dharmic energies enveloping the child and the unmistakable aura surrounding her. His expression twisted with anger as he turned to his brother.
"How long?" he demanded, his voice seething.
Ea feigned innocence. "Whatever do you mean, little brother?"
"How long were you going to try to keep this hidden?" El's voice rose, his frustration evident.
"I wasn't hiding anything," Ea insisted, though his gaze faltered under El's intense scrutiny.
"Then tell them! Tell them right now!" El pressed, ignoring the warning in his brother's gaze.
"That child is indeed experiencing the divine tribulations, as Ninmah correctly pointed out, and such a feat is extraordinary. But what the Mountain Queen has failed to identify is the primordial's unmistakable aura on the child. Did you really think you could keep this hidden, Brother? She reeks of Abzu! Any deva in Tendo would be able to tell she is his remnant! Why in the world are you raising such a thing?" El's accusation hung in the air, casting a heavy pall over the atmosphere.
Ninmah remained composed, continuing to play with the child as if unaware of the brewing conflict around her.
Ao Jun bristled in anger, his voice thundering. "She's part of that thing?" he gestured to the crimson sea beneath them. "All of this is because of her, and yet you've decided to raise her like a youngling? Are you out of your mind, Ea? Look at what that thing did to this world! Was once not enough? Even a thousand deaths couldn't pay for all her crimes. If you won't dispose of her, then I will."
Ea breathed a sigh of relief. "You're both mistaken. I understand how it may seem, but please, hear me out. She is not the primordial's remnant. This sea around us, it is his remnant," he explained with unwavering conviction. "I can assure you of this; As I shepherd the ichor, I am more connected with that man than anyone else in this realm. I am certain she is not the primordial's remnant."
"Then why does she have traces of his aura?" El demanded.
Ea sighed deeply, weariness weighing heavily upon him. He was tired—tired of concealing truths, tired of speaking with veiled language, and tired of rectifying problems he hadn't caused. With a somber yet resolute expression, he turned to his brother.
"You also carry traces of his aura, albeit fainter. Probably due to the strength of your mother's lineage," Ea revealed, his voice steady and resolute. As he approached the child, a pure nimbus of flowing citrine liquid enveloped him, swirling around like tumultuous waves crashing upon a shore. Its presence emitted an overwhelming and suffocating pressure, evoking the same sensation as the depths of the ocean.
"I too carry his aura, dense and unmistakable," he continued, his words resonating with solemn certainty. "As do all of my children, just as yours will one day bear traces of his unmistakable aura. The bloodline of a primordial does not easily fade across generations, Brother."
El stared at his brother in shock as the luminous aura surrounding him dissipated. "Why was I kept in the dark about this? How did I not know?" He demanded, his voice tinged with frustration and confusion.
"Do you truly expect the council to openly acknowledge sending a son to slay his own father?" Ninmah replied with a casual yet pointed retort, her calm demeanor belying the underlying indignation in her tone.
"Why would they..." El trailed off, his doubt morphing into painful acceptance. "Of course, they wouldn't," he added with disillusionment, his voice tinged with resignation. He chuckled with the bitterness of a man whose worldview had been shaken. "Brother, if you'll indulge me, why did you say 'your mother's lineage' when speaking of me?" El's expression was stormy, but beneath the turbulent surface, there was evident comprehension in his gaze.
"I believe you can discern the implications of that statement well enough, El. And what does it matter? Father has passed on; let his past die with him," Ea replied, his tone solemn.
El shook his head, his expression firm. "Brother, I insist on hearing the whole truth," he said resolutely.
Ea tenderly stroked the baby's cheek, his gaze flickering to his wife's hand, contemplating the risk of reaching out to her. With a heavy sigh, he decided against it, fearing the potential consequences.
"Your mother ascended to the higher realms with Father a few months after you were born," he began softly, his voice tinged with melancholy. "My mother raised both of us as if we were her own, the only remnants of his legacy left behind. I watched her endure the agony of abandonment. But alas, the heavens are fair, but not kind. Fate denied her the destiny of witnessing the next stage of power and staying with the man she loved, all with one magnificent stroke." Ea's fist tightened in anger, his knuckles whitening as his emotions surged within him.
"Your mother possessed both the beauty and aptitude to travel alongside Father to the end of his path. Mother would say that the woman was so extraordinary that it was inevitable for her to capture Father's heart, but I prefer to think she seduced a man weak to physical pleasures. However, I'm far less forgiving than Mother; I believe that's rather obvious," Ea sneered, bitterness evident in his tone.
"I don't believe Mother held any animosity toward the woman. If anything, she always seemed quite grateful that Father wouldn't be alone as he continued on his cultivation journey. I hope at least that much is evident to you. Our mother has done nothing in her life if she hasn't showered us both with more love than we deserve. She would never divulge these truths to you, and if she knew I was sharing them now, she'd be furious with me."
Ea looked at his brother earnestly and asked, "What does it matter anyway? It's not uncommon for a man of his station to have more than one wife. Father was Tendo's Throne before me, imagine the power he wielded. None of this changes anything. You're as much my mother's son as you are my brother, now and forever," Ea said with finality. "Now, I urge you not to treat Mother any differently. She'll be lonely in my absence. Please don't abandon her over something so inconsequential. I don't know if her heart could take losing two sons at once."
El shook his head vigorously. "I could never do that. Nammu, she's still the woman who raised me. She's still my mother, regardless of blood. I'll see her in your absence. Just hurry back. I don't know how you managed to hold everything together for so long, and I doubt I'll be capable enough to fill your shoes. I don't even know how to face the council at this point. Should I seek vengeance? Why does everyone keep so many damn secrets?"
Ea chuckled, a mixture of amusement and pain evident on his face. "There are as many secrets in the hearts of men as there are in the dao, Brother. You'll come to accept this truth quite quickly as you rule. My best advice is to do exactly as I have: follow your heart, damn the consequences. Let the council berate you, let the people curse you, but trust your instincts when making decisions. You have a good heart. As long as it's not tainted, it will never lead you astray."
El nodded glumly and settled onto the banyan tree's roots, brooding over all he'd just learned. Ao Jun turned to Ea, his expression fraught with confusion. "Who should I seek vengeance from then? Who's to blame for all of this? Your father has passed on, and now you're telling me the council isn't guilty of bringing down this hell upon us. Who am I to vent this anger on, Ea'ge?"
"I don't recall ever urging you to seek vengeance, Jun'er." Ea smiled warmly at the naive confusion on the young dragon's face. "Some matters demand retribution, while others call for acceptance. I hoped you would see this as one that warrants acceptance. Every situation presents an opportunity for growth. I trust you'll handle matters more adeptly than your predecessors after all of this, and that is a worthy lesson to learn. It's important to understand the value of life, regardless of whose life it is."
Ea paused, turning an accusatory gaze upward to the world high above the dark cloud layer hanging ominously in the sky. "Father's descent here can be likened to a natural disaster. It was unforeseeable and unavoidable, yet more lives could have been saved if more had acted. However, if you remain unreconciled by this, then direct your resentment toward me. The flood didn't commence until Father drew his final breath. It was I who slew him; thus, I am the cause of this devastation. If you ever feel the need for retribution, you may seek it from me."
"I... I understand. I think I understand." Ao Jun stammered, his head hung low, and he lost himself in contemplation.
"Now, onto the matter of your little trip through the Nether, darling," Ninmah said, her tone carrying a dangerous edge.
Ea's shoulders sagged visibly with fatigue, a testament to the weight of this whole ordeal. He settled onto the banyan tree's roots beside Ninmah and the baby, his voice carrying a tone of unwavering determination.
"Rest assured, I will return. However, I cannot determine the exact amount of time required to gather enough strength to seal away all of this ichor. It could be as short as a few years or as long as a millenia, but the ichor must be sealed. You, more than anyone, understand the dire threat posed by El and my father's remnant. Leaving it unsealed gives it a chance to reform into a shade or phantasm, and none of us want to face an undead primordial. That could be even more dangerous than a live one. Allowing it to remain on Gaea for too long could render the earthly realms uninhabitable. Father's blood is unfathomably toxic; it even affects me, despite half of it coursing through my own veins. Thus, I must transport the ichor through the Nether to the void prison, Kur—a place where there's nothing for the ichor to taint. I believe you are intimately familiar with the void prison. Your family has safeguarded its entrance for generations, after all."
Ninmah nodded slowly, her gaze piercing. "Indeed, I'm quite familiar with Kur, which is also why I know your journey cannot possibly be as simple as you say. The Nether is not a place where life should exist, and not even we empyreans can be assured of safety in the void prison. So, tell me, how can you be so confident in returning? Do you have any intentions of actually coming back to m…" she caught herself, "to us? If you cannot provide a satisfying answer, I promise I will obstruct you. Others may fear you, but I do not. I refuse to stand idly by as you throw your life away, leaving me to care for all of our children as well as your precious mortals as if I were some ill-fated warrior's widow. Your life belongs to me. You belong to me. I never would have consented to this absurd plan had I known this was the outcome you envisioned. You are not permitted to die. Do you understand me? If you do, I'll drag your ass back from the Nether and kill you myself!" Her icy words were laced with such obvious concern that Ea almost chuckled at the frosty expression his wife was making.
Ea's spirits lifted; she still loved him. However, that only made the next lies harder to say convincingly, even if they contained a smidgen of truth. "After vanquishing my father, I gained insights that have unveiled the entrance to the next stage of power. I may be edging closer to a half-step primordial than a mere empyrean now. If you don't believe me, you can verify my words with El and Jun'er; they've experienced the powers firsthand."
Ninmah regarded him with a mix of skepticism and apprehension, yet a flicker of hope danced in her eyes. "If what you say is true, then perhaps there is a chance for your safe return," she murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
El, still staring broodingly at the flowing ichor, said with quiet sincerity, "I can assure you that what my brother has said is true, Mountain Queen; his new powers transcend the laws of Gaea's six realms; I've never experienced anything quite like them before."
Ninmah glanced over at the brooding figure with a tinge of pity. She sympathized with the man's good intentions, but his interjection implied she had an evident lack of trust in her husband, a thought that she found quite upsetting. Despite her understanding, she felt compelled to gently rebuke him. "I didn't ask for your opinion, little El. This is a conversation between my husband and me. Please refrain from interrupting again," she said gently, her tone soft but firm.
If El's spirits were any lower, they would have sunk into the sea of ichor beneath him. He reached for his wine flagon, intending to pour himself another cup in silence.
"Oh, and one more thing, lest I forget," Ninmah continued with a tone as sweet as syrup, reminiscent of a patient teacher correcting the mistake of a naive little child: "A sage has no right to determine if a power transcends the laws of this plane. You've yet to even glimpse the horizons of the laws. You're not a qualified judge."
The flagon that had been directed towards the cup bypassed it and went straight to El's lips. Jun'er offered him an empathetic nod of approval, understanding the pain he felt from that level of condescension rather intimately, while Ea cast his brother a look full of apology.
"My love, was it truly necessary to..." Ea began, but he was swiftly cut off by Ninmah's interjection.
"I said Ninmah, or Mountain Queen, would suffice. That's twice now; please do not make me repeat myself for a third time, darling. You know how I hate repeating myself. Now, if you have such capability, then I will verify it. Only then will I allow you to travel through the Nether. Are we clear?"
"I cannot show you," Ea admitted his voice barely above a whisper. "I barely have the strength to stand, let alone call upon such power."
"Then you will stay with me until you have the strength to summon this oh-so-impressive power," Ninmah replied firmly, her tone carrying a finality that suggested the conversation had concluded.
Ea shook his head sullenly, his voice heavy with regret. "I cannot allow that either. The ichor must not linger here any longer. Its presence prolongs Gaea's recovery, adding years to the time it will take for this world to heal."
Ninmah crossed her legs and retorted in a sharp, authoritative tone, "I don't believe you heard me correctly, dear. That wasn't a suggestion."
Ea's eye twitched in annoyance at his wife's gesture. "I don't think you're hearing me either, darling. I don't give a damn if this is your suggestion or order," he said with a mixture of frustration and concern. "I love you, Ninmah, but can you please stop acting like a petulant child and see the situation around you? This realm, Saha, is your domain! It's your home! It's our children's home! What is happening to this land is more important than you, me, or us! I am doing this for you; I am doing this for our children; I am doing this for everyone! How many lives would you sacrifice to have me for a few extra days? Are you truly so selfish? We're Thrones; our duties do not stop because of added danger. You know this as well as I do. I will not be delayed!"
Ninmah's face turned colder than the depths of winter, but her eyes leaked tears like summer rain. "I see..." she sniffled slightly. "Very well, then I will stop you."
Ea's heart felt as though it had melted from his chest, leaving behind a gaping void that oozed an icy chill. Trembling with revulsion, he steeled himself to utter the words that would eternally haunt him and irreparably damage his relationship with the person he loved most. They were the only words he knew would convince her to let him continue on this suicidal voyage. However, to his immense relief, fate intervened, sparing him at least one burden in this nightmare.
"Let him go, Ninmah. You know that neither of us can hold on against this flood for even a day longer than necessary. Especially not while we have people to protect. And you know better than to believe you can stop him if he has my help, even if he is little more than an arrow at the end of its flight." A domineering and regal voice came from the sky above.
Ea's gaze shifted toward the kingly figure adorned in flowing crimson dragon robes, hovering majestically in the sky above his raft. Overwhelmed with gratitude, his expression softened, and he offered a very slight but deeply appreciative bow to the man whose timing was impeccable. Meanwhile, Ao Jun bowed with profound reverence towards the figure, his head pressed humbly against the raft's surface.
Ninmah's face contorted with a mix of helplessness and fury. "You side with him in this madness, Longwang?" Her voice was filled with frustration and desperation. "Why does everyone think it's acceptable for my husband to throw his life away? Am I the only one who cares about the mightiest empyrean in all six realms? Who will console me? Who will explain things to our children? Am I not a Throne? Can my feelings be trampled like grass beneath your boots?"
She turned her frustration on Ea. "You have proven nothing to me! How can a man, barely able to stand, protect his life through the Nether? I won't allow it. I won't—" Ea interrupted her by sealing her lips with a kiss. She pounded his chest with her fist, but there was no strength behind the blow. Tears flowed from her closed eyes, wetting his cheeks, a painful reminder that even righteousness would always cause someone suffering. She was always his victim. How he tormented her.
He tried to pull away, but she enveloped him in a tight embrace, refusing to release his lips. He quietly surrendered, allowing himself to be drawn into her warmth, the scent of carnations filling his senses. For a moment, he indulged in her softness, in the fleeting escape from his troubles. At that moment, his pain was forgotten, his worries faded, and he felt a sense of freedom.
Her lips quivered as she knew she couldn't hold him forever, and her brow furrowed into a miserable frown. But with quiet resolution, she finally let him go. He gazed at her with such tender affection that her heart trembled like a hummingbird in flight. It was hard to breathe. He was a vicious thief; he stole everything from her, even her breath.
"Why are you so stubborn?" she lamented. "Can no one else make this journey? Why must it always be you?"
He cradled her face tenderly in his hands, gently wiping away the tears that glistened in her eyes like woeful jewels. Her concern brought a soft, lonesome smile to his lips. "You know why it must be me," he whispered patiently.
"You always treat your life as if it's worth nothing?"She muttered in misery.
He shrugged with morbid humor. "I look forward to the peace of death's final release."
She flicked his forehead gently. "Don't even joke about it."
He smiled at her, trying to muster confidence he didn't truly possess. "Trust me. I have never failed to return to your side. It'll take more than a cold abyss to keep me from you."
She poked his chest gently, her eyes pleading. "Promise me. Promise me on my life that you will return."
He tenderly stroked her hair, a pained expression crossing his face. "I can't make that promise, my love," he murmured. "Your life is too precious to wager on a promise. But trust me, I always have a plan. I'm not walking into certain doom. My life is yours; it's not something that I can cheaply throw away, right? Just wait for me; I will return to your side."
He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, a silent promise lingering in the touch. She nodded in understanding, a final acceptance settling over her. Standing up, she turned her back to him, her small form trembling with neglect and woe. "Go then," she whispered, her voice barely steady. "I expect you back in a few years, at most." Her words quivered with unspoken fear. "Just a few years, at most."
With a resolute nod, Ea exchanged a glance with El and Ao Jun, a silent pact forming between them. "I'll protect them until your return," she vowed, her voice barely audible amidst the sound of her qi activating. A ruddy brown aura enveloped the remaining companions aboard his solitary vessel. "Hurry back. Who knows, I may be forced to ascend soon," she added, her words carrying a sense of urgency. With that, she floated towards Longwang, her silhouette a poignant portrayal of both loneliness and longing.
Ea's eyes welled with sorrow. "Only a few years," he repeated her words, but they sounded hollow even as they left his lips, "at most."