Chapter 112

Young Hearts

Darkness was terrifyingly heavy, Mei felt.

She kept sinking lower and lower, as though she were drowning in an ocean--but it was not made of water, no. After all, no matter how hard she flapped with her arms, she met no resistance, certainly not the kind the water would make. She continued to fall, deeper and deeper, sinking to the depths unfathomable. At some point she became certain that this was what death felt like--no, rather, what death was. She had died, having drained herself entirely of Qi after using that dagger, all as a selfish act of defiance.

No, you won't save me! I will save you!

Did she save him? It was uncertain. Possibly, at least.

She didn't know when, but she stopped sinking--instead, she remained suspended in place. In time, even the cold began to wither back, receding from the tips of her toes and fingers, warmth slowly surging through her like a current. And just as she sank, she began to float back up--again, not through water, not through air, through something entirely intangible.

Up and up, she was floating, a liberated cloud against the azure sky.

A fleeting bird migrating between the sword-tipped mountains.

A cascade of smoke arising into infinity.

Free, unrestrained, liberated from all chains of mortality--

--Mei snapped her eyes open and, by instinct, sat up. Her eyes danced all around her, though she couldn't see anything. For a moment, she believed she had been tricked, and that it was all a mirage. However, a resoundingly sweet voice came soon after.

"... Mei? I mean, Senior Sister Mei?" she turned her head toward the source and gently poured some Qi into her eyes. He came into focus soon after, darkness around him retreating, the figure embossed with light.

He had a worried yet relieved expression, his hair oily and permeated with dirt. In tiny little ways, he looked kind of funny--as far as possible from the imposing image she had of him as he dominated all of their peers on the stage.

"Senior Sister Mei!" their brief stare-off was ended swiftly as the other two sounded out from the darkness. Mei nearly fell sideways as the full weight of Lya's young (though still almost-adult) body came crashing into hers.

"Ah! You startled me!"

"Sorry! I'm, I'm just glad you're okay..."

"... I'm glad you guys are okay, too," though she knew everyone could see irrespective of darkness if they just poured some Qi into their eyes, she chose to believe otherwise, expressing her heart in a rare instance of vulnerability, hoping others would not see it. "Where are we?"

"In the tunnel," Lya replied. "Xiang Tao hid us after the fight, and we've been staying here since."

"You two okay?" she asked, looking over at Song who sat by Shen Tao.

"We're fine," the two replied almost in unison.

After a bit more reassuring and a few words of acknowledgement, Lya and Song seemed to relax--and, as soon as they did, slumped on top of each other and passed out. Though cultivators didn't need to sleep, that didn't mean they were immune to psychological tiredness--stress, worry, anxiety, they all worked almost the same way on their bodies as they did on mortals'. In time, the body needed a complete reset--especially for those as young as Song and Lya.

Mei smiled faintly as she watched the two, inspecting her body simultaneously. Her expectations were that, at the very least, her meridians were shattered. But... they were fine, even slightly better than they were before. Looking at the remaining aftershocks, she quickly recognized it--things from the Forest. Master Leo must have given at least some to either Lya or Song--likely Lya--and she used it on her. It was a debt that Mei would never be able to pay, and yet it was the sort of debt that Lya would never seek payment for.

In time, her head turned back toward him yet again. He was nibbling at some dried jerky, leaning against the wall. It was true, she felt, that the strongest bonds of them all were forged in the fires of strife and agony. Though she was still unable to trust him unconditionally like she did with Lya and Song, she trusted him now more than any other Disciple save for perhaps Liang.

He could have likely left and escaped on his own if he wanted to. Rather than wasting all the treasures his Father left him in a desperate bid to save her--them--he could have used them to simply disappear.

"Thank you," she mumbled it, speaking from the bottom of her heart.

"The kids saved you," he replied nonchalantly. "Fruit juice, they called it I believe."

"Hm. We had some when we went to the Nameless Forest."

"Oh."

"From what I saw, it's a concoction made of some twelve or thirteen herbs and fruits, the most common of which was Lythernium Fruit."

"The world may as well end, with you calling Lythernium Fruit 'common'."

"Which should tell you everything about the rest."

"Hm."

"You could have escaped on your own, you know?" she queried, looking away.

"... I know. But I got us into this mess. I don't know. It didn't feel right, leaving."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Is that really all there is to it?" she probed further.

"... what else could it be?" he paused, his voice uncertain. She looked back up from the floor and at him, and he quickly looked away, his red-stained eyes shimmering faintly.

"I wonder," she mumbled. "The Heavenly Pavilion Disciples...?"

"Dead," he replied rather curtly.

"... hm," though she should have been joyful, she found it hard to muster any happiness within. Of all the places to tangle with, Heavenly Jade Pavilion was the worst. Not only were they by far the strongest Sect of the Lower Ashlands, they were rather particular about their Disciples dying, even those that were relatively unimportant. Though they never intervened when their Disciples caused trouble (rather, rumors were that the Seniors in the Sect encouraged it), when the script was flipped, they would go scorched earth.

"Don't worry. They will have no way to pinpoint it was us," Shen Tao said as though having read her mind.

"What if they do, however? My actions will have brought an enemy to the Sect's doorstep."

"If the Sect is so weak as to fall apart over something like this, then perhaps it should not exist."

"You--"

"--all I'm saying," he interrupted her outburst. "Is that Holy Blade Sect--for all the loathing in my heart toward it--had endured plenty, and far worse than whatever this is. While it's true that the Pavilion is the strongest around, and that they like throwing their weight about it, they don't desire needless wars either. The primary reason why they became the strongest was that they hadn't actually participated in any meaningful, large-scale conflict since their inception. While the rest of us squabble for the resources and kill each other over past grudges, they simply stare on from behind the walls, sneering. Even if they do learn that it was us, they'll simply ask for our lives as a recompense--in the event that your Sect Master protects us, they'll then request some Spirit Stones and a written apology or something."

"That's rather optimistic," Mei scoffed. "I am not a complete moron, you know?"

"I never said that."

"Nor a child you need to baby with opportune outcomes."

"Certainly didn't say that." though he said so, his voice wavered.

Mei bit her lips, looking back down at the dirt. Even if his words were ever so slightly comforting, they were ultimately just tiny little white lies, and she knew as much.

"What now?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "This is my first time in the realm as well, you know?"

"Right." she sighed.

"And, technically, you're my Senior Disciple. Now that our guide is dead, you have the most seniority."

"You'd fit perfectly at the Pavilion, I must say."

"A compliment?" he arched his brow, asking.

"Take it as one, if you have no conscience," she scoffed. "Are you alright?"

"Took you long enough to ask." he said. "I'm fine."

"... you could have likely taken the fruit juice for yourself. If you'd done so, your roots would have mutated and evolved."

"I know."

The two fell silent yet again, with Mei stealing a few glances toward him. She'd been interested in men before, naturally--well, not men, mostly boys when she was younger. Though she'd never openly chortle and gaggle in their presence, she'd silently think certain things to herself. Like most of her Sisters, she fancied Senior Brother Liang--strong, stout, tall, and handsome. She'd never outwardly admitted it, however, and only ever accepted it in the deepest, darkest silence of her own heart.

Love, and even the fluttering feelings that simply denoted its beginnings, was a distraction. She'd seen it plenty in the Sect; Senior Sisters with grand potential getting caught up in the troves and thorns of a heartache, never realizing themselves. But, try as she may, she could never entirely close herself off--and she tried.

Her icon in that department was Elder Xiaoling--the woman was curt, abrasive, and cold to everyone: men, women, boys, and girls. She seemed entirely unbending when it came to her pursuits, alien to the matters of love.

There was always a voice, however, a teeming whisper within. That unfulfillment, after all, was meant to be fulfilled--such was the nature of a human, mortal and otherwise. Once again, she found herself wondering, and slightly yearning.

"I recall a marriage proposal," she spoke rather brazenly as he seemed to wince. "From the Bloodmoon Sect. Sealed with the highest order insignia."

"..."

"Truth be told, I tossed it into the drawer with the rest of them," she said. "There were too many, and I just... didn't care."

"Hm."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For at least not replying properly," she said, pulling her knees against her chest and resting her head on top of them. "In fairness, though, it was probably for the best."

"Why so?"

"Because I hated you at the time," she said. "Well, not so much you as I hardly knew you as a person. I simply hated who you were--talented, bright, aspiring, talk of the entire world that I knew. I lived all my years as a Disciple in your shadow, never even coming close to catching you. I'd have thought you were simply mocking me which, I suppose, you were doing at least in part."

"... it wasn't my idea," he said after brief silence. "Father suggested it, saying it would have been a way to mediate differences at least for a generation." he was rather awkward, Mei noted. There was a distinct lack of confidence in his voice, confidence that was otherwise at the forefront of everything. She found it rather surprising as she entirely expected him to be completely used to women--most young men their age, even back in the Holy Blade Sect, have ventured to brothels at least a few times, and considering that Shen Tao was the Sect's Holy Son, there was seldom a lack of women willing to be with him, even for the faintest of chances that something might come of it. Or, perhaps, even just for the bragging rights that they had been with him.

"Ever since the Sect took me in," she spoke. "All I wanted to do was cultivate. Day, night, endlessly. It was the one thing I could control in my life--getting stronger. If I had to leave the Sect, I left it to find something I needed for cultivation. If I needed to speak with someone, I either asked for an advice or directions. You probably noticed it even in just the few days you spent there, but... I have no friends. I have plenty of acquaintances, admirers you could call some, and such, but no true friends. But when the attack happened, and when we were madly dashing toward the Forest, I realized... I didn't truly have a reason to live. Not past not wanting to die, at least. Yes, there was the gratitude toward my Master and the Sect, but that wasn't so much a reason to live as it was an obligation of being alive."

"Friends are overrated," Shen Tao scoffed.

"... I thought so, too," she chuckled, smiling lightly as he finally turned his head and faced her yet again. "Cultivation will always come first to me, I feel, until either I've died or become the strongest in the entire world."

"Big dreams you have there."

"The biggest," she laughed. "But... you know, it doesn't have to be the only thing that I have. And it doesn't even have to come first all the time. I can afford a moment or two of levity."

"Good luck with that dream," he said. "Because, as long as I'm alive, I don't plan on handing the future title of the world's strongest to anyone."

"Ha ha, is that so?"

"Though, I suppose, in some strange scenario," he muffled his voice. "I wouldn't mind sharing it..."

While the two became rather awkward abruptly, uncertain what to say or even where to look, they were entirely oblivious to the fact that neither Lya nor Song had fallen asleep. The two kids were buzzing inwardly, their cheeks flushed with blood to the point they seemed closer to salamanders than people. It was simply too awkward, and even the rather bombastic revelation that Xiang Tao was, in fact, Shen Tao--Bloodmoon Sect's Chosen--was not enough to combat the sheer level of awkwardness one felt when watching others profess... love? No, it wasn't love--not really. Love ought to have been more gentle and subdued, Lya felt. It certainly was something bordering it, she figured, though she swore she would take the fact she was awake to her grave, and force Song to do the same.