An’s lungs feel like they are on fire, the ash in the air burning her nearly as much as the shame she feels at continuously slowing the group down in Mu’s hour of need. She grits her teeth to stop herself from coughing, knowing that if she does the rhythmic breathing that she’s been trying her hardest to maintain in order to keep her body going will be interrupted and she’ll fall. Her soot covered face is full of streaks where sweat ran down her brow stinging her eyes on the way down. The pain of it barely registers over the agony the rest of her body is in as she pushes herself on just one more step and then another. If she still had the energy she’d be laughing in joy right now at hearing Suwan say they’ve nearly arrived.
Even through the pain the tingling on her skin tips her off about the oddity in front of her and she raises her head, staring past Mu’s battered form to look at the crack in the air. It smells of death masked by perfume. An quickly looks away from the opening portal, the sight of it giving her a pounding headache. She looks back unbidden when the scent of freshly cut grass draws her attention. Walking through in a daze her mouth hangs open and she stares around in wide-eyed wonder. Tranquility. Pure and simple. That is what she feels coming from every inch of the land before her. Tranquility, acceptance and restfulness, the entire package permeated by a hint of nostalgia and regret. It feels as if all her stress melts away like snow before the sun.
She doesn’t like it. It feels wrong, dirty even for it to vanish without reason. Artificial almost, like the addicts she used to see laying in the streets with wide smiles on their faces. Joy not matching the circumstances, relief when she doesn't deserve it. It chills her to the core. Despite how fake the sensation feels the meadow itself feels real, far more real than any place she’s ever been. The colors are more vibrant, the scents more subtle and clearer at the same time, everything just seems… more.
Yet it is nothing compared to the being before her. The being that makes everything else seem less compared to her, the presence that should not fit within a human form, its size too much for even a mountain. For just the briefest moment when she crossed the portal she felt it brush up against her. Like a dark shadow glimpsed beneath the waves far too large to seem real her mind shies away from it and focuses on the smaller trickery of the woman's hands instead of the bigger implications.
Her heart leaps seeing Mu whole again. Truly the immortal’s power is not exaggerated. An joins her master in staring at her newly healed limb and extends her finger to touch it as if half believing it to be a lie. It feels soft yet firm when she pokes it. Dense muscles forged through years and years of back breaking effort hidden below skin that practically glows. She feels the corners of her lips curl up in a less visible mirror of the bright smile atop her master's face when she is swept into a hug, the strong limbs around her making her feel warm, fuzzy and above all safe. It makes her beyond happy she stuck with them and kept pushing herself, as selfish as it makes her feel for being delighted despite slowing them down. So happy she hardly even registers Suwan vanishing and reappearing several times until she is drawn into the thing Immortal Soulfire was sitting on.
<We’ll be gone for a few days, make yourself at home children.> The melodious voice of Immortal Soulfire speaks into their head. All four look at each other questioningly prompting the cursed doll to tilt her head, apparently not having received the same message. An knows she should train or meditate without wasting any time but knowing and doing are two different things. She wraps her arms tighter around Mu and shuts her eyes, the exhaustion of the past weeks catching up to both of them as they slowly doze off where they stand. The grass feels soft and welcoming as they drop down on it and honestly, An wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.
-----
Looking at the mound of pillows her master’s master disappeared into days ago she can’t shake off the feeling of wrongness it exudes. Like a tragedy painted over in bright colors, what lies beneath visible only where the paint is thinnest. It sours her to the rest of the meadow that she still can’t tell is made of the same paint despite knowing it is. It is a wrongness that is very different from Twelve’s. She watches the cursed doll offer brief, mocking but to the point instructions to Gao Mu, the petite pugilist having begged her for instructions on hands and knees. The ‘pure’ feeling of the meadow makes the doll appear all the more terrifying to her. Turning her way as if sensing her gaze Twelve stares at her with her ever blank expression. An quickly averts her eyes and pretends to have just been looking around despite knowing the doll can see right through that act.
She wants to stand up and stretch to rid herself of the fugue she’s found herself in but knows doing so would distract Zhi from her studies. She wants to at least not get in her way too, feeling she owes her that much. Even if she is still a butthead. The gang leader had worked up the courage to ask Yating to teach her how to read sometime while An had been sleeping in Mu’s arms, the thought of her indulgence making her flush. Everyone’s working so hard to improve themselves and she just slept. By the time she woke up her master that had until just a few hours before been gravely wounded was already in the process of trying to convince Twelve to train her.
An wants to do nothing more than to stand up and join her. To work up a sweat until the effort pushes the bad thoughts out of her mind, driven away to lurk in the back of her head, waiting to return another day. She knows it’ll do far less than if she finally succeeds in awakening her spiritual sense however so she simply lets out a long drawn out sigh, sending out all her frustrations at her continued inadequacy along with the air and closing her eyes once more.
How much time passes she can’t say, perhaps only minutes, perhaps hours or even days but no matter how long she tries the esoteric sense she is looking for seems always just barely out of reach. She takes in a deep breath and begins the process she’s made into a habit over the last few days whenever she feels stuck. The variety of scents she inhales course through her and she devotes her full efforts to parse each one. Bamboo growing like a fish climbing a tree, an unmistakable one, Gao Mu. Blood from a single source diluting poison until it becomes medicine, the bitter smell of Zhi. Sweet and floral, cloying to the point it hurts. The faintest scent of the three, one suppressed on purpose, Tai Yating. For a moment she loses track of the smells as the meadow overwhelms them all before fading into the background once more. A wildfire, the smell of burnt memories blown away by the wind at one’s back. The most profound of the scents she has grown used to, the scent of Song Suwan.
She does her best to manually control her breathing and maintain her posture so it seems like she’s still as deep in meditation as a moment ago even though her focus is now entirely on the two blondes approaching her master. She pushes down the irrational twinge of jealousy she feels at the living legend addressing her master so casually, not entirely sure which of the two she’s jealous of. It becomes a bit harder to maintain her composure when she hears Mu receive the praise she deserves. Her lips want to curl into a smile by themselves but she just narrowly manages to stop them in time. Her joy is replaced with horror upon learning of how close her master got to being crippled. All because she’s too slow. Her teeth grit and for a moment she considers asking to be sent away so she can’t endanger her master again through her own weakness.
She knows she’s lying to herself, she could never bear to be parted from her glorious master. All that’s left then is to relentlessly chase power so it’ll never happen again. Even though her gut twists at accepting a master other than Gao Mu she’ll swallow her pride and misgivings and devote her full efforts to being accepted as a student of Song Suwan. No matter what it takes.
A chill runs through her at the tone Immortal Soulfire uses to call Twelve over. Even though it’s not directed at her she feels like a mere bug in front of a predatory giant. She pays close attention to their words, her eyes cracking open just the slightest bit to peek at them.
“What is your name, doll?” The immortal’s voice resounds like a thunderclap upon a clear day.
“Twelve.” She hears the doll reply in its usual monotone.
“How many of your kind did he create.” Huan practically spits the word like it is dirty and the very act of putting it in her mouth disgusts her.
“Tw-” The immortal mercilessly cuts the doll down, torn and tattered body parts flying in all directions due to the power of the immortal’s strike. And then the scene is back to what it was once more right before… Fire erupts from every crack and joint on Twelve’s body, a soundless scream resounding as the soulfire reduces her very existence to nothing. An can’t stop a tremble from running through her when the scene returns to normal once again. Several more such scenes repeat simultaneously and no matter what the puppet does or how fast she reacts the result is the same, whether she fights or runs she is slain within a heartbeat. Cold sweat runs down An’s back. Instinctively she knows none other than her and Twelve witnessed any of this. “This lowly one is one of twelve siblings. This lowly one does not believe any others have survived the ravages of time in their powered down state.”
“Hmph. As a courtesy to my disciple I shall refrain from destroying you here and now but make no mistake. I will be keeping an eye on you, creation of the grand calamity. You have one chance and no more, slip into his ways and I shall wipe you from existence without a second thought.”
For the first time since she encountered the cursed doll she can sense her feelings, the strength of them cutting through the sheer wrongness she still exudes. Shame deeper than any ravine mixed with fear and despair. It takes her a moment to collect herself after what she bore witness to. As sorry as she feels for the doll she isn’t willing to adjust her plan. It would seem the immortal is speaking to each of them in turn and she intends to get as much as she can from this chance. Even though her loyalty lies fully with Gao Mu she shall swear false devotion to them. She feels a fraction of the shame she felt from Twelve at her unfilial thoughts. She may die. Trying to lie to an immortal rarely goes well in any tale but at this very moment she wants power more than anything and if she can’t get it and keep up with Gao Mu, what use is her life? So she’ll lie, she’ll cheat and above all she’ll hope she won’t get found out.
“Eavesdropping is not a good habit, little mortal. Take heed, your attempt was skillful but you cannot fool those of our level. Now come over here, let us discuss your future.”
An gulps.
