"Rain?"
Xuma raised her head and stared at the dark droplets of liquid with confused eyes.
Was this what the afterlife looked like?
'It's awfully dark and gloomy.' She surmised and wrinkled her nose as a fat drop landed above her lips. No, this was not rain! It smelt like…
Her hand shot out and a droplet landed in the center of her palm. She drew it back for a closer look, and her heart turned cold.
Blood.
It was raining blood? In heaven or hell?
Her head suddenly felt lighter. It wasn't until now that she noticed she wasn't standing on solid ground, but floating in empty space. A dark canvas surrounded her on all sides, making her the only existence in the endless void.
Her mind was surely playing tricks on her. Why would she be floating in space? And where in Erlan's name was she? She tried to move. But it was as if her legs were stuck in a mire. She couldn't lift a limb, let alone move.
She clutched her thigh and tried to pull her leg.
Nothing.
She tried her other leg…and got the same result.
Nothing but a void of darkness. Nothing but the droplets of blood that sprinkled down on her body like a summer rain.
A sickness unlike anything she had ever experienced alive clawed under her skin. It felt as if her very soul had shivered.
Xuma clutched her skirt, heaving through the nauseating stench of blood clogging up her nose. If possible, her already light head felt even lighter. Just as she thought she would pass out, the darkness vanished and she found herself…
Floating above her corpse.
"Peel her skin." The man standing in front of her corpse commanded.
Her mind went blank. Peel?
As in, peel the skin of her corpse?
More than the notion of the deed, the man who suggested the idea chilled her heart.
"Your Majesty, peel?" A thin man standing on the side, with a sack tied on his waist, asked the Emperor with a nervous expression.
"Yes. You're a skin painter, aren't you? It's why you're here." The Emperor narrowed a cold glare on the skin painter, who trembled under his gaze.
"Yes, I'm a skin painter. But Your Majesty, I've only ever peeled off battle wounds and scars. Peeling a person…"
"A corpse. She's dead, so you don't need to feel guilty. I want you to peel off this woman's skin and make it into a mask for Empress Ainaz. Understand?"
"Yes! Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Then get started."
Xuma stood in a trance, staring at the man she loved half her life, and wondering if she had ever known him. This man…he couldn't be the Joan of Blossom Valley. That boy had loved her.
He had loved her enough to jump into a sea of flame to rescue her father.
But this man…he was a complete stranger.
Was this the reason she was stuck in this world? Did the heavens want her to see the ugly side of the man she once loved? To see the cold expression on his face as he watched another man peel off her flesh without a flicker of emotions in his eyes?
To watch her own face turn into a mask for his future Empress?
Why?
Why was this happening? She had died. Shouldn't her soul move onto whatever place dead souls wandered to?
Then why was she here?
She couldn't understand, and this frustrated her. Though this side of Joan disgusted her, she had already died. Her feelings for him had also faded into nothing over the years.
Moreover, maggots would feast on her corpse in a matter of a few days. And when the meat decomposed, only bones would be left of what once held her mortal soul.
So what was the point of witnessing this scene?
Since it was bound for decay, why would she care about what happened to a shell?
Hours passed. The mask was complete. But she still…couldn't understand.
Her corpse looked hideous. With the flesh peeled, it looked like a lump of bloody meat. She was forced to watch the entire skinning process, as her limbs still weighed as heavy as metal.
When it was done, Joan didn't even look at her corpse. He clutched the mask as if it were some sort of a precious treasure, and strode out of her chamber without a backward glance.
"Sigh. What a sin." The skin painter shook his head and glanced at the sky. "The Stone Empire…it was probably better under the Stone Emperors' reign." With another sigh, he gathered his tools and scurried out the chamber.
Xuma frowned.
The Stone Empire was better…under the Stone Emperors' reign? What a joke! Thanks to their greed and bloodlust, half of the world was engulfed in war.
Recalling the vacant eyes and bruised figures of the women and children. The thousands of men chained and forced into slavery, a cold smile surfaced on her face.
All without home.
All without right.
All without freedom.
To live without a family. To live without a home. There would be no drive to strive for a better life. To live without a goal. To live without the freedom to pursue one's dream, what sort of living would that be?
Compared to such a ghost-like existence, death would be a far better choice.
And the Stone Emperors snatched this drive, the simple desire for life, from the numerous nations seeking a life of peace.
Indirectly, the demon Emperor had a hand in her current downfall. If he hadn't flattened her homeland, hadn't killed her father…then she wouldn't have been filled with so much venom. She wouldn't have used her body as a vessel to regain her freedom and get revenge for the atrocities done on her people.
Joan's hatred wasn't baseless. He watched his parents die before his eyes. As a son, how could he spare the progeny of the man whose hands were covered in his parents' blood?
So in a way, the demon Emperor had also killed her unborn child.
She hated him. Abhorred him and everything he represented.
Just as she was heaving and stewing in hatred, her vision blurred. Before her mind could register what was happening, she found herself floating in the center of Frost-Flame City.
Staring down at a scene…that could only be described as a nightmare.
Her eyes rolled in the back of her lids. Her stomach churned. Though she was a soul without a mortal body, Xuma couldn't help but double over and heave her guts out.