"Sink.

"Sink.."

"Sink…"

"Sink……"

"Si…nk…"

Splash!

The water washed over Zhao Fuye’s head, the rushing of the waves sounding like a distant echoing voice as they beat against her ears. Or perhaps she was screaming? Was it her own voice, reflected off of the infinite ocean, calling back to her?

There was a slight stinging in her legs, was she kicking that hard to stay afloat? A flutter of crimson washed past her eyes, barely visible in the murky water.

Ah, blood. Some of the broken bits from the raft must have cut her legs when the final wave broke it apart. Yes, that made perfect sense, wood could get terribly sharp after all. But hm, she would have to patch that wound up quickly, these were shark-infested waters so they would flood to her if she didn’t stop the blood.

Right, time to swim back to shore, patching the wound here seemed like a terrible idea. Just had to catch her breath quickly…

Gulp.

Pain. Pain. Nausea. Pain. Water rushed into her mouth as soon as she opened it, a disgustingly salty taste forcing its way down hi… her throat and into her lungs. Her stomach churned violently and her chest heaved, her insides doing their best to expel the foreign liquid.

Gulp.

The moment her mouth opened, more water forced its way into her mouth. Vomit. Saltwater. Blood. Mucus. Everything was forced down again, be it into her lungs or her stomach.

Ah, the flutter of crimson was gone. A soft light shimmered above, but it was so distant that it couldn’t lay bare her surroundings.

Since when had she sunk this deep?

Arms moved. Insides churned. The taste of salt pickled her tongue and lungs. She gasped, but every breath was accompanied by water. The salty taste med her gasp in discomfort, bringing in more water. Again. Again. Again. The water pickled her insides, the taste numbed her head.

It was fine. It was fine. She just had to reach the light. The surface was above, safety was above. The light, just had to reach the light.

Ah… How tantalisingly the light danced for her, how lovingly it guided her. But eh? What were those things beneath the light, those dull white rows stained by crimson? And why were they parting?

Eh? When… Had she started going downwards?

"Sink."

"Sink…"

"Si…nk."

Clank!

Clank!

Clank!

An annoying sound. A throbbing sound. Kao Seshar wanted to plug his ears to block out the sound, he wanted to sleep and it was interfering. He felt like he was going insane because of it, the horrible sound almost sounded like muted whispers as it rang around inside his head.

Clank!

Clank!

Crunch! Squelch!

A disgusting sound mixed in with the monotonous throbbing. Was there a slight scream mixed in as well? It sounded like a voice, even if just for a second.

Ah, right.

Yi… Seshar’s eyes sprung open as he remembered the reality of the situation. As he remembered just what sort of hell he was in.

A red haze that tasted like copper. Earth that was torn open and stained a darker red than the haze. Limbs over there. Weapons over here. Scattered armour.

Thank god they were face down. Thank god their bodies were obscured by their armour. Thank god it was this easy to say farewell when he couldn’t see them. Tomorrow he would definitely cry. Dinner would be dark when he saw how many empty chairs there were in the dining hall. But for now he had to fight.

He was laying on his back, he just didn’t know when he fell over. Something heavy was resting on his chest so he pushed it aside, a heavy metallic clank resounding as whatever it was impacted something beneath him.

Weapon…Weapon…Weapon… There, his spear had somehow gotten tossed to the side, he would have to go and pick it up.

Clank.

Clank.

Clank.

Annoying sound. Throbbing sound. It felt closer now, it practically reverberated through his bones.

Bones… Bones… Bones… Ah, could that be it?

His head tilted so that he could look down, but all he saw was his dented armour, a steady stream of red rushing down from his chest and onto his legs.

Right. Of course. He was wearing armour, there was no way he would be able to see if any of his bones were poking out and beating against his armour. Stupid of him, really stupid.

Strange that his armour was suddenly red though, he belonged to the Kanu’ue Dukedom so he should be wearing their silver armour. Oh well, he would just have to apologise once everything was over, it shouldn’t result in more than five or so lashes.

He finally reached his spear and bent down to pick it up, a wave of lightheadedness washing over him as his fingers touched the shaft. He couldn’t help but blink a few times, the red haze growing dark as he swore the wind was playing tricks on him, whispering gently.

"Sink."

"Sink…"

"Si…nk."

Caw!

Ca-Caw!

Caw!

They howled incessantly. One was met by ten and ten were met by a hundred. They became a symphony of howls and screeches.

Why? Why were they screeching? Lao Ryusen just wanted to sleep so why couldn’t they just be quiet? Why were they even out here to begin with, screeching a symphony that almost sounded like whispers?

Ah, right. They were here for him.

Crows were the messenger of the god of Rest, they were his eyes in the waking world and his tether to our reality. And if there was a need, they would be shepherds for the dead. They were his funeral procession, and their screeches were his dirge.

But not yet. No, Mòr-Rìoghain would have to wait for a bit longer if she wanted to claim his soul, the time of rebirth was not yet upon him. For now, he still had to rise.

A dull grey landscape. Warped trees with bark as black as the night and veins as grey as ash. Dry earth that was blasted to bits until not a single blade of grass remained.

Yes, this was his hell. This would be his tomb.

His legs were already taut, his muscles tense. It seemed like he had remained standing even though his consciousness slipped. Good, it wouldn’t do if the Lord of Ashvale fell over while still alive.

Eyes narrowed and ears perked, listening to the sounds beyond his dirge. He couldn’t have been out long, they must still be close.

Tracks in the dirt, blood on the bark. There, north-east.

Whispers in his dirge again, a gentle voice that tugged at his mind. It must be her. He could not fall while she was being taken away, as the Lord he had to at least take down the enemy before he fell.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

His steps were heavy, each caw in his dirge forming shackles that tied him down. But he held his sword tight, the edge sharp enough to temporarily cut down his chains.

Soon, my goddess. Just wait a bit patiently and then you can have me.

The crows followed as a horde, perhaps they knew that there would be one more soul to bring along today.

Past the trees, past the ruined dirt, there they were. A man and a woman. The man had stark black hair and a scrawny physique that hid his immense power. The Lord of Ashsong, their eternal enemy.

And in his clutches, Ryusen’s woman, the lady of Ashvale. His heart, his life, the light that lit up the dark. Just a look at her… amber hair? Had she always had amber hair?

She turned as she was being dragged away, gentle brown eyes meeting Ryusen. Brown? Were they brown? Had they always been brown? Had she always looked at him this gently?

Yes, they must have, she must have. Otherwise, why would it hurt this much to see her slipping away?

He clutched his sword tightly. His chest screamed for air, it seemed like there was a problem with his lungs. But he ignored it and raised his blade. The pain in his chest, the helplessness when he saw her slipping away, the anger at the opponent.

It started in his chest. It came from his heart, the light inside. From chest to shoulder, from shoulder to elbow, from elbow to hand, and finally from hand to blade. It came from his heart, and thus his heart became his blade.

One cut. Like a curse to scar the world. His heart would be his blade and his blade would be his heart. And Mòr-Rìoghain would gain another two souls when it was all over. That would be his final gift to Ashvale, to ******.

And thus, he clutched his sword and gathered the last of his strength. But as his heart poured into his blade, his lady looked at him and shook her head.

"No, Young Master, that won’t do. I already told you, your pain isn’t an art exhibit, it’s not a show for others to marvel at. So please, my dear Young Master, open your eyes."

Pain. Her voice hurt. Pain. Like needles that stabbed at his brain, gouging at his soul. Pain. His head felt like it split open with each word. Pain.

But worse yet, when he felt as if his own head would split open, it was his lady’s head that split open. Skin crackled and hair melted as green light flooded out of her cracked skull, the gentle light washing over him in now time.

Pain. It burned. Like fire, it ravaged him. Pain. The light should be gentle, healing, but it scorched him, it tore at him. Pain. The light seared away flesh and blood, snapped tendons and erased nerves. And in the end, the searing light even melted away who he was.

"Rise now, Young Master, this isn’t a place to be kneeling for no one."

The voice spoke through the searing light, and Lao…Kao…Zhao… Yin Long opened his eyes.

A dark room. A stuffy atmosphere filled with silent screams and despairing dead. Formless hands that clutched at his throat, tore at the hem of his robes.

Ah, right. This was his hell, and this was just another one of its tombs.

When had he started to cur… pray for the dead here? When was it that he lost himself, when did he sink so deep that the little light inside him was nearly swallowed by the mire?

He couldn’t tell, his head was hazy and heavy, his thoughts tossing as they fought against the mire inside. But still, he put on a smile, a fractured little curve that couldn’t even put on an air of confidence. He had to smile. She could not, so he had to. He had to smile.

So smile.

"Your smile never fails to brighten my day, Young Master. So please, keep smiling. Never stop smiling."

****…Lan Yun’s hands slid down to his cheeks as she spoke, his throat rolling once as he almost expected her to gently grasp it again. But her hands remained on his cheeks as she helped him up, his knees had hit the ground at some point without him knowing it.

"Look, Young Master. So many were saved, so many can now smile. Even them."

She used her chin to gesture at the empty room. Once it was filled with bodies that were stacked like bales of hay, each one awaiting their painful eternity.

But now it was empty, the only silent scream that remained here was his.

And then there were the smiling living. Li Mei Yen’s group. They were practically prancing about, they looked as if they were but a single minute away from locking arms and dancing. They were using some crystals to record images of the empty rooms, probably proof they could bring back to the Court to prove what they had done. They must have noticed his return to reality, Li Mei Yen’s grin so wide that it practically split her face in half.

"You awake again? You did great, Long, really damn great! Couldn’t have done it better, not a single chance in hell! We’re gonna be the talk of the Court when we return, they won’t be able to get our names out of their mouths!"

She bounced over like an excited rabbit as she bubbled, grabbing his hands and practically jumping up and down. Her gaze swept the empty room a couple of times, her hopping stopping as she seemed to remember where they were.

"Right, right. We can’t stay here for much longer, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was already time to change the guards here. Someone could be on their way as we speak. Come, we must go now. Now, right now!"

Her arms gestured wildly as she urged the others on, practically chasing everyone out. The people who would take over wouldn’t be strong, they’d be able to easily handle them. But if nothing was heard then the Pavilion might become suspicious and check on the place, and if they were found here at that time then their fates could only be imagined. Sure, these weak people wouldn’t matter to the Pavilion, but it was a matter of face, they couldn’t just let their people be killed like that.

The group swiftly left the Resting Station, the now empty tomb, and followed the route they had planned out in advance. The Spatial Array they would use wasn’t far away so they would be able to slip out before anything could happen.

But when they finally reached the Spatial Array, the situation there ended up being a bit strange. The array was trembling erratically, a few arcs of azure lightning crackling out from within the array. From the looks of it, something was going on on the other side of the array.

"Tch, figures that it wouldn’t be that easy. We’ll find another one, I don’t want to get dragged into someone else’s fight the moment we get through that array."

Li Mei Yen wasn’t pleased. Why did someone have to start a fight on the other side of the spatial array at this time? Why couldn’t they have just waited a day?

Whatever the case was, this meant that they would have to find another spatial array. The city that awaited them beyond this spatial array was one of the capitals belonging to one of their rival organizations, the Everburning Tree. Getting caught in a fight there could easily become deadly.

And what was worse, the other closest spatial array would take them to one of the capitals belonging to the Bottomless Whirlpool, the other organization that served as their rival. If they were caught there it would end just the same so they really had to be quiet as they moved. But just as she turned to walk away, Yin Long remained.

"Okay, but I will take this one."

The azure lightning was reflected in his murky gaze as he stood there. Why did it call to him? Why did this lightning crackle about within the dark mire inside? Why did it bounce around within the void that was his chest? On the other side of this spatial array… what exactly was there?

"You…"

Li Mei Yen’s thoughts instantly raced. She needed to weigh it. He clearly wouldn’t budge, something had roused his desire, and down here that meant an unbreakable stubbornness.

So she had to weigh it. The risk of going there and possibly getting caught in the fight versus the rewards they could reap if they used him. One Resting Station would get them some good rewards, enough to make them risk infiltrating it like this. But what if… What if they took down more?

Once the thought formed, it was impossible to get rid of. The desire was formed, the need, the obsession. She could not let him leave her side, she needed to keep using him, she needed to keep being someone he could use. Use and abuse, together they would drain each other.

"Alright. But there’s no telling what can happen, so be ready immediately. The rest of you, be ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice."

The rest of her group had probably weighed the same thoughts, none of them raised any objections and steeled themselves. Yin Long cast a look at Lan Yun, but she simply flashed him that crumpled smile, all she did was follow

He stepped on the spatial array since no one was objecting, Li Mei Yen’s group quickly following despite their obvious trepidation. The array was quickly activated thanks to their Qi, space around them warping as they were transported away.

As always, the sensation of floating through space felt warm and comfortable to Yin Long, almost like a nice bath. But thinking about the non-smiling girl that stuck to him, the enjoyment vanished and the comfort was replaced by a cold and sinking sensation.

Right, must keep smiling.

Spatial travel never lasted long, the group reaching the other side of the spatial array and opening their eyes to a star-shaped plaza. The first thing that greeted them was arcs of lightning, azure cracks that spread across the sky and the land. Obviously, now that they were on this side the battle would be fully noticeable.

The arcs drew Yin Long’s attention again, each crackle lighting up his murky pupils. Li Mei Yen’s group tried to quickly scurry away, but Yin Long’s feet felt rooted as he stood there, tracing the arcs.

From a thousand to a hundred, from a hundred to ten, from ten to one, he narrowed them down until he found one he could track. It felt fresh, new. So he tracked it to its source, a hand landing on his shoulder as he did so, a gentle voice reaching his ears.

"Don’t forget, Young Master. It’s not an art exhibit, it’s not something you’re supposed to show to others."

She whispered so softly to him, reminded him oh so gently. And then he realized why. At the end of the lightning, dancing about within the wind as a sword fluttered, he saw it. Black hair that would usually be tied into a ponytail now hung loosely, its edges singed. Blue eyes that flickered with light were now dyed by anger and annoyance, lightning crackling each time her pupils moved.

"Xiao… Yin Yu?"

She… was here? But she died… She breathed her last in his arms…

Right. Right. This was hell. He fell here. Lan Yun… Fell here. So why not she too? Wasn’t that what Lan Yun had assured him of to begin with? They could also have fallen here so they could meet again. That which was lost could be reclaimed, those that were gone could be found again. And here… Here there was one.

Thump.

It came from his chest. From the cold lump of coal that hovered in the emptiness.

Thump.

The lightning struck the coal as it bounced, a spark flashing in the dark for a second before dying down again.

Thump.

But there was more lightning, there always seemed to be more lightning. And thus there were sparks.

Did she hear his disbelieving mutter? Did she sense him? Her pupils slid towards him and then trembled, her body practically freezing as she gawked at him.

But this was a battlefield, she was clearly fighting someone. Stopping up was foolish, as was evident by the attack that immediately snuck up on her.

"Don’t forget, Young Master. It’s not an art exhibit, don’t let others marvel at it."

She whispered to him from his side, each word creeping down his spine as he felt the sensation of a hand on his throat again. But his arm moved all the same, his body moved all the same.

The sword was drawn from its sheath, his own shattered reflection looking at him from the blade. The weapon was raised high, darkness bubbling up from within the cracks in the reflection, dripping down to the earth like a taint.

It started in his chest. It started in the coal-like heart. From heart to shoulder, from shoulder to elbow, from elbow to hand, and finally from hand to blade. It started from his heart so his heart became his blade, and his blade became his heart.

"No, Young Master. It’s not an exhibit for others."

The voice again. The whisper again. The hand that landed on his elbow, the gentle touch that tried to dissuade him. But he couldn’t be stopped. He was tunnel-visioned on that blue pair of eyes, to the point where he couldn’t even see the man, the reflection, at her side.

Thump.

Lightning roared, and sparks danced. And so he swung his blade down. From heart to blade, and from blade to world, his curse finally poured out like black wastewater.