Yin Long held the transparent sword with a soft grip, its tip resting on the wooden floor after he finished swinging it. The sword had always been an extension of his body, an additional arm he could move as he pleased. But now, now it became an extension of his pain, it was like a shoulder he could lean on as he cried, a painting he could show to the world to make it understand him.
To call it a peculiar sensation would be an understatement, now he truly understood why proper swordsmen and their ilk were so rare. At the same time, the respect he felt for Hongzai and her sword couldn't help but deepen tremendously. He only had this one sword, this one blade driven by emotion and memories, and that alone had required him to dig through all his memories until he found one that was suitable.
But Hongzai? The moves she had shown off displayed far more diverse emotions, memory after memory flooding out through the tip of her blade. How long had she worked to produce those swords, to imbue those emotions into her blade, how many memories and events did she have to go through to sculpt her style? He had only seen a glimpse of her deepest memories so he couldn't even begin to guess what the answer may be, couldn't imagine how deep her woe was to produce so many different memories.
The sword fell apart as Yin Long loosened his grip further, the blade flaking away as it turned into those familiar transparent leaves covered in scales. They danced around him as they did so often when he made his swords, but this time even their dance seemed to be influenced by his emotions, each leaf singing of hollow pain and sorrow before they faded from sight.
"This...This was the room where my father and mother drew their last breaths, where I last got to feel their touch. They didn't know anything about my skills or strength, but they still entrusted my sisters to me, trusted me to protect them. They said that they could move on to the afterlife without regrets since I would be there to protect them in their stead."
Yin Long didn't wipe his tears as he spoke, allowing them to flow freely as he walked forward slowly. The beds from back then had been removed, but their placement was still ingrained in his mind, his hands stretching out to run along where the edge of the beds had been.
"But still, even as they smiled so contently and spoke so warmly, they still apologized above all else. They spoke of how they had never given me advice, how they hadn't done right by me since they placed almost all their attention on Little Huo, how they thought I wouldn't cry for them. Why did they apologize? Why would they think that I couldn't love them just because they didn't focus on me? Should I despise them just because they never guided me in the same way they did her? The last words my mother told me was to love often and love deeply, for love was the greatest blessing that had been bestowed on humanity. So why would they think that this was a gift I wasn't more than willing to share with them despite a little bit of bias?"
Those last words, those last looks, were something that Yin Long would never be able to put down or forget. They were dying and breathing their last, yet they spoke words of apology and entrustment, taking this as their final chance to finally offer him some words of advice. They spoke of the gift of love, thanked him for loving them, yet did not take this chance to properly voice their own love and instead tried to make up for years of regret with some final advice.
It was definitely their way of showing their love, but never once did they say that they loved him, too afraid that he wouldn't return them. And that, that simple fact was something that inevitably became a sliver of regret for Yin Long, the fact that he had made his parents think that he wouldn't return those emotions because of some petty reasons.
He wanted to give voice to that regret, to speak of the question that haunted him, that was why he told Xiao Yin Yu about it. He bent his knees and knelt down on the ground, pressing his forehead against the floor while facing the spot where the two beds had once stood. In his life, this was only the second time he had ever knelt, the first was right after his parents passed away.
"I am as bad as you, for I did not say it back then while I still could. Now they are doomed to become nothing more than empty echoes, but please, allow me to say them still. Thank you, Mother. Thank you, Father. Thank you for raising me, thank you for loving me, thank you for worrying about me even in your final moments. It doesn't matter if you focused more on Little Huo, it doesn't matter that you never trained or gave me advice. From the day I was born and until the day I meet my final end, I will always love you."
Yin Long hadn't forgotten that day, not for a single second. So he knew that he had made the same mistake as his parents, he had never given voice to his love while he could. He hadn't said a single thing as they passed away, his throat clogged as tears streamed down his face, he had remained completely silent as they spoke and passed away. He did not ask them his questions, did not voice his love, he simply listened and watched, and then they passed away, leaving him with not even the chance to rectify his mistake.
He kept his forehead against the floor for a full five minutes before he rose up, wiping away the tears that stained his face. It had taken him far too many years, but he had finally given his parents the final farewell that they deserved. He looked down at his hand, the sensation from when he swung his sword earlier was still as clear as day to him. It was a sword that mixed the empty pain of loss with the hollow pain of hunger so it was a bit two-fold, but Yin Long focused on one of the aspects in particular.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"My Mother, she had come up with a special punishment for certain criminals. Those convicted of parricide would be locked up in a specially constructed cell that blocked out all the surrounding Qi, they were free to move around within the cell and would receive water daily. But they wouldn't get an ounce of food, they had taken their familial love for granted so now it would be time to rob them of something else that they took for granted. Giving them water wasn't mercy, it was part of the punishment, it would keep them alive longer. Just as their love withered, so too would their bodies as the hunger set in. And they would have to see themselves fade away into nothing more than husks. Esi, Death by starvation, that's what she called it. That sword is one of hunger and starvation, so let it be known as Esi."
It was a grim punishment, one his mother only employed on those convicted of what she considered the greatest crime. Most people didn't want to think of their own mother as someone capable of such a gruesome act, but those acts were still part of who his mother had been, the role she had served. So they became the name of his sword, of the blade that brought with it hunger and starvation, the first blade in what could be considered an embryonic form of a sword style unique to Yin Long. Yin Yu also realized this very same fact, rolling the name around in her mouth for a bit.
"Esi... It's simple and short, but still carries a slight air, it's not a bad name. The sword itself was also quite...Insidious. They can push it aside or dodge it as they please, as long as they aren't ready for that sudden shift into a sideways slash they're bound to lose a layer of skin. And if they can't dodge, well then they end up losing an arm and their legs. I guess it is kind of fitting that the sword of starvation forces them into a position where they can only crawl, practically unable to move and thus unable to gather the necessary food. So, since the sword has gotten a name, have you thought of a name for the sword style itself?"
She didn't think too much about the rather grim punishment, large clans had to make sure that their subjects actually obeyed them, even if it required acts that could be called inhumane. Instead, she focused more on the sword itself, the way the attack had moved as it emulated his memories. At the same time, she was a bit curious as to what he would name his own sword style, with his first sword having been named and styled after something quite insidious. But Yin Long shook his head, lowering his hand again as he raised his gaze.
"No, I haven't really given it any thought yet, the name of the sword was only decided so quickly thanks to what it's associated with. There's still plenty of time, nothing wrong with naming the sword style until I've gotten the chance to give it more thought."
When it came to sword styles and their techniques, it generally went in the opposite manner of what Yin Long did. First came the name for the style and then the individual techniques would be named, that way you would be able to ensure that the various techniques had names that followed a similar style. But Yin Long was someone who did nothing but break the norm so Yin Yu had already stopped paying it any mind and just frankly nodded her head.
"Yeah, that's true, and the names are mainly only used by others so they don't matter much until you plan on showcasing and teaching them to others. But I do look forward to seeing what you actually name the style, my master always said that the name a person gives their unique style is usually based on their ambition and determination so it's a good way to get a look at their mind."
Yin Yu spoke rather casually, Yin Long had already started walking so she was following him out of the room. The mansion was still completely empty, only the sound of subdued footsteps echoing throughout the halls. Yin Long had already wiped his tears and left the room, but he was still a bit sombre, he had just dug into his most painful memory after all.
Yin Yu understood this so she spoke a bit more casually and warmly, asking him questions about the fond memories he had told her about earlier. Her parents were still alive so she couldn't understand his pain, even if she could feel it in his sword, the best she could do was to push his mind in others direction, something she felt was so insignificant that she felt like cursing her helplessness.
But as they kept moving through the hallways of the mansion, retracing their earlier steps as they descended the floors, Yin Yu spotted something strange. The front door that they had left open, Yin Long had been too immersed in his memories to think about closing, was now closed. Her eyes narrowed somewhat sharply, but Yin Long stepped forward just as she opened her mouth.
"The door's closed, some...?"
Yin Long completely ignored her words and continued to walk forward, Yin Yu only cut off her words because she saw that Yin Long's lips had curved up gently. He walked over to the closed doors and sat down, leaning against the wood, resting his head on the same spot as the person on the other side of the door. And shortly after he leaned against the door, the familiar voice of Tang Fen came from the other side.
"I knew it had to be you, it was way too coincidental that Elder Zhang died while carrying so much incriminating evidence, coincidentally taking out all the 'assassins' while also dying at the same time. It seems like not even spreading your wings can change your insides, you're still quite the idiot. But I heard you brought a new girl with you this time, at least the description given by that young boy didn't sound one bit like Lan Yun. Did spreading your wings help you snag another girlfriend?"
Yin Long didn't respond to the seemingly exasperated curse and questions of Tang Fen, closing his eyes as he rested all his weight against the door, as if he wanted to pass through it and lean on the person sitting on the other side. But he didn't, he could, but he didn't. She had done it like this for a reason so he'd oblige her on this.
"You'll just have to live with this, Sister Huo and I made a promise that we wouldn't see you here again until you had grown so strong that not a single Lang clan member would dare to raise their voice. But oh, that championship isn't considered here so you'd best go see her there, otherwise, I'll have you eat my fists a few times. Well, you're an idiot, but your sister complex is off the charts so I'm sure I've got nothing to worry about there. She'll get her chance there, so how about we just reminisce a little like this?"