~This chapter may get emotional. You have been warned~
The journey that lay before them would be peril on peril. There was no safe way through the Hrsh and unforgiving land. Ying had discovered many new things throughout his journey home. Places bare and full of life. Some frozen in darkness colder than ice, some forever ablaze.
Sea of the dead, Land of the living. Each having their own obstacles. What drove the beautiful ger was none other then his son. Sometimes he wish he was dead but the image of his dear son compelled him forward.
Ying grew stronger by the day. His strength and eagerness fuelled his flame. All of this was only for this single person. Nothing mattered to the platinum haired male anymore. After all Bai, his baby bun meant the world to Ying.
During the time Ying and Jiang Bai entered the misty forest a fantasy flowered had sprayed some sort of mist on Ying. Causing him to go into a dream land. If he could not beat the hallucinations he would die. All his darkest nightmares came back to haunt him, the ger thought he might go crazy. Coming at him like monsters slowly eating away at his mind. It was to the point he would rather die then go through all this suffering.
The one thing that kept him sane was the thought of seeing his beautiful son smile at him when they reunited. Part of what Ying felt was pain, he endured. There was another part of him that was in pain, the pain of losing someone.
At that moment Ying felt so conflicted. In the hallucination Ying was in he stared at a mirror. The mirror had that patina of age over the bronze frame, likewise the surface of the glass was splotched black in places. Ying stood and stared at himself, or at least the distorted image of himself.
The mirror showed him the boy the world saw, all they saw, somehow it didn't seem right. Inside he was fireworks and rage, love and frustrations, ambition and fear. All they saw was short black hair and the dull grey eyes you forget while you're still looking at them. Ying ran a finger over the frame, feeling its cool ridges and grooves and the layer of dust that clung.
It was the original him, before any of this drama started. Before when he had a what people would consider a normal life. Did he ever look so lifeless and dead? It didn't feel like him but it definitely looked like him. The reflection in the mirror seemed like a stranger.
Was Ying in someone else's skin. But he felt comfortable in it. It was like he was wearing a mask. So who was he?
Empty is what Ying felt; he had no safe harbour, to get away from the gales and the storms? No fuel to fill up? To be healthy, there must be nurture. It was like Bai was the sun on his darkest days. After only one day Ying was able to awaken.
It didn't matter. Why must he conceal if that what he truly felt. This was him, he was Bai's mother. Nothing else matter. Since he, Ying was given such an opportunity he shall seize it. Make this body his own.
Everything turned white around him, he had finally escaped the illusion. This trap taught Ying a lesson, one that he would use for the rest of his life. Especially in desire situation, even if he may forget sometimes. That was to listen to his heart.
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After every mountain peak there's another, yet the climbing is everything. With each stretch Ying reached higher; with each stride he was stronger. He continuously gained a little more to carry him through the times of hardship.
The winter wind as a coldness taught Ying to stay warm inside. He could create his own warmth. Like how he can create his own path and choose what to do. A large smile hung at his lips.
As if a heavy weight had been lifted off his soldiers, but that didn't mean he would relax. It was quite the opposite; he would try harder. Push himself past his limits.
Ying felt sharp rocks as a whisper to walk lightly, reminding him to stay cautious. Those times the clouds showered him with their icy love, it reminds Ying of the tears he prevented by walking these ways and it made him move all the faster.
All the tears of pain and anguish, reminding him of the prime reason of going through all this pain. Once you reach rock bottom, there is only one way to go and that is up.
Ying and Jiang collapsed once they had reached the top of the mountain. They had only done half the hardships of the journey. Although they were nearing he end the weather of the cliffs have drastically worsened.
Torrential winds that could rip you apart even if you were a cultivator of the Golden Core. This alone was a hassle, if you included the magical beasts that could survive such weathers there is nearly no chance of survival. It could either wait 100 years or the last option they had left.
That was for Ying to use his celestial powers to create a pathway for the two of them. Not only would this take an immense amount of qi especially with Ying's cultivation level but also concentration. One slight mistake everything could go into ruins. He could become a cripple if he was even lucky enough to survive or die.
Ying was betting with his life here. There was no going back. Either survive or die. Ying requested for the phoenix to send his dead body to his son if it were ever to occur he died. But Ying wasn't planning to go down easily. Jiang showed his concern but couldn't waver Ying's decision. He could only helplessly watch on the side lines.
Noticing my nervousness, he hugs me from behind whispering words of encouragement which did help me quite a bit. Now that I think about it whenever I was ever in danger Jiang would always be there aiding me and helping. Without asking anything in return. I will surely repay him when we get back.
Taking deep breaths Ying took a step forward, each step felt heavy. Cold sweat glistened on his furrowed brow. With hands clasped tightly in front of his stomach he constantly fiddled with his knuckles, weaving his fingers in and out of each other.
He clenches his fists tightly, until her nails dig into the palm of his hand, but he barely notices. The only thing he is really aware of at the moment, is the sound of his heart throbbing against the cage of his chest. Deciding there was no backing out now he began his long chant.
Lifting the sun sword high in the sky, closing his eyes a galaxy surrounded him. To borrow this much power from the star requires a trial too see whether one is worthy of not. His body and mind in this space and in the real world will be faced with multiple trials. It was like going into virtual world but in this on you could die from a single mistake.
There are five levels of difficulty one has to go through. Each getting progressively harder. First trial was too surviving a wave of beast. Next was to survive harsh conditions, from extreme cold to scorching heat. The third level was a battle of the mind against the unknown. The fourth level would be fighting a copy of himself and the final task is unknown. Who knows how long this could drag out for, a couple of hours to day then week or maybe even years? It all depends on the persons perseverance and bravery, but also strength.
With a blink of an eye Ying was thrown into a world ofturmoil. When he opened his eyes to what lay before him he instantly knew this was not going to be easy. What stood in front of him was about one hundred creatures and two that stood proud at the back. They looked much more powerful then the other mobs, it was probably the general. Ying had to do this solo, no help at all. He could only depend on himself. The scenery around him seemed to be that of a forest.
The first imposing figure of the two was a dragon. It was the colour of the night, the epitome of evil and darkness. In the forest he was a similar pattern to army camouflage pants. The dragon was scaled in delicate green shields, not much thicker than a human fingernail. Yet from every place possible were sharp claw-like projections. They lay down his spine and from the edges of his wings. They fanned like aggressive blooms from his feet and elbows.
Eyes that turn skin into a sickly pallor, they were as dark as night. As if staring into an empty void. Claws able to lacerate even the sturdiest to mere ribbons of flesh and bone, blood so black that night held an intense radiance that could blind your eyes.
The second beast lay hunched in the brooding forest, seemingly not bored. But if one looked closely you could see the blood lust in it's eyes. It was as large as a bear on it's hind legs and with jaws just as powerful. It's skin was a dull green and the claws were held at a ready. They looked borrowed from some prehistoric predator, they were twelve inches to the tip and sharper than a butcher's knife. Ruby red eyes shone like freshly drawn blood.
Dread is what Ying felt, pushing against him like an invisible gale, attempting to reverse his steps back tosafety. Dread has his stomach locked up tight, nothing getting in or out. Dread sets his face like rigor mortis, teeth locked tight together. His stomach churned and twisted like a washing machine. He couldn't help be nervous. It was his first time facing so many creatures at one time. He was about to go into what seemed like war.
Deciding not to prolong the battle anymore Ying rushed in with a sword in hand.
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The battlefield lay quiet, for it was now a graveyard. Corpses littered the ground, one on top of another. A pool of blood formed beneath all the dead bodies of beast. The forest stenched of a thick smell of blood. It was quite unpleasant, many would gag evening having a wift of it.
A bitter wind swept the hillside and the ground was slick with rain. The sun still shone and the wind still blew, but it felt desolate and sombre.
There stood Ying in all his glory on a pile of dead beast corpses. His limp body swayed like the trees. His sword dripped with the blood of the monsters he had killed. One could tell he was exhausted. Who knew how long he had been fighting out here?
A deep wound is sliced in the flesh of his upper right arm. It's heavily oozing out blood and there's a bluish-purple bruise forming around it. Ying lightly press his index finger against the center of the cut and suck in a sharp breath as the pain spirals all across his body.
Colorful spots contour the sides of Ying's eyes, he had to bite my lip from the pain of it all. He tried to stop the flow of blood. It reeked of blood, almost making him pass out. He never liked the smell of blood but here he was drenched in it.
He hadn't even done half the battle. Breathing hitched as his knees grew weak and he slumped to the dirt ground. It's as if all the strength he had dissipated into thin air. His body tumbled down the hill he had once stood on. Crashing to the ground a small whimper escaped his lips. It was only the first trial and he almost couldn't take it anymore. He hadn't even faced the two power houses yet.
Ying put a hand to his sweaty face, tears slowly flowing down his cheeks. Emotions swirled with the ice water circling the cold metal drain as streaks of fire burned his cheeks. Each new wave a hot trail of agony as slim, bare shoulders shook in each rake of emotion through his frame. Fire of shame and anger burned just under his skin and a deep emptiness filled his heart as the sentiments brewed over and boiled past the seams he could no longer hold together.
Streaming tears cleansed his red cheeks. Few droplets remained, forgetting their way as the path was swept from beneath them, consequently blurring the Ying's vision with waves of sadness only the broken encounter. The salty release calmly flowed into his so that he could taste her own sorrow. Telling him how pitiful he was. Was it going to be a repeat of the past?
No it wasn't. Ying sprang up and slapped himself with full force, leaving a red handprint on his pale cheeks. The ger started barrading himself, encouraging himself. Did he not say that he would do this all for his son? Would he give up now since he has come so far. Ying pushed himself off the ground, legs still wobbling. He started healing his injuries slowly.
Those monsters were so going down even if he died with them. With his newfound determination he staggered off to prepare for the incoming battle.
The clouds have gathered themselves, calling for each one, overhung in the sky, turning oceans with their dark blue colours, matching the skies, while the sun feels hesitant to appear, she still breaks gently casting her silver rays through the dark clouds. As if a new beginning, starting afresh. Although nothing has happened yet.
Yet Ying felt hopeful. But for how long could he keep this up? Words are spoken through action. Saying something doesn't mean your going to do it. Ying could only hope and preserve through all the suffering in stall for him.