Wang's Pov.
The candles cast a soft glow across the room. As I slowly opened my eyes, the previous day's weariness weighed heavily on me. I could feel it in every fiber of my being, as if I had been toiling away at a physically demanding job. The exhaustion was overwhelming, leaving me wondering what had happened.
Every muscle in my body ached, as if I had been lifting, bending, and carrying heavy loads for hours on end. It felt like my body had been pushed to its limits, leaving me drained.
My mind, too, felt fatigued and foggy. It was as if my brain had been working relentlessly, solving complex problems or engaging in intense mental activity. Thoughts seemed sluggish and difficult to form, as if my cognitive abilities had been stretched to their maximum capacity.
My body feels boneless, as if all strength has been drained from my limbs. I try to move, but it's as if I'm floating in a dream, unable to control my own actions. My eyes wander the room, taking in the dimly lit space that surrounds me. The air is heavy with the scent of incense, its aroma filling my senses.
As I glance around, I realize that I am in a crypt. The walls are lined with ancient stone, and the flickering light of numerous candles casts eerie shadows across the room. The soft glow illuminates the rows of tombs, reminding me of the solemnity and finality of death.
Despite the disorientation and confusion that envelop me, I summon the strength to try and stand. As I struggle to find my footing, a sudden wave of dizziness washes over me, causing me to sway unsteadily. Before I can fully comprehend what is happening, a pair of hands wrap around me, steadying my faltering form.
I turn to see Jackson, his face etched with worry.
"Are you okay?" Jackson asked. I could feel his hands gently guiding me to sit up on the iron bed I had been lying on. The bed creaked as he adjusted me to a more comfortable position.
My parched throat and the gnawing hunger in my stomach reminded me of my immediate needs. In an effort to speak through the dryness, I groggily asked, "Where am I?" The words came out as a faint whisper, barely audible even to me.
Meng handed me a large water bottle, and I opened it. As the cap came off, a strong, metallic scent filled the air. I drank the entire bottle's contents. The liquid flowed down my throat, quenching my thirst. Once I finished, I carefully set the bottle down.
You've been out for three weeks. I tried to use magic to wake you up the next day, but I stopped midway. You had been drawn into a deep sleep by dark magic, and it would be dangerous to wake you up. It might weaken you or shatter your soul. That's why I burned ritual cleansing incense—to break the magical spell and wake you up safely. Thankfully, it worked, but I don't know for how long.
You might be awake for an hour or 10. But if you tell me the kind of dreams you have been having, then I might know exactly what to use to break the spell. Meng said, exhausted. I could tell she hadn't been sleeping well. She has dark circles around her eyes.
"I know I'm dreaming, but I can't remember what it is about," I growled. "The whole generation of whoever is playing with me is in trouble when I find out who they are."
Meng nodded sympathetically. "Please try."
All I remember is I was in a bottomless, pitch-black pit, surrounded by voices I couldn't identify. My head throbbed with a headache as I tried to make sense of it all. I felt a deep dread that something was wrong, but I couldn't pinpoint it.
"It's the dark magic; it's not making you remember. Drink this," she said.
I reluctantly took the cup and drank the concoction. It had a bitter taste, and I grimaced as I swallowed it. Within seconds, I felt warmth spreading throughout my body. Suddenly, memories of my dream flooded back. I gasped as I recalled the dream details. Meng smiled in satisfaction.
Everything appeared in black and white, vivid yet hazy, to me. In this dream, I found myself married, bound to someone I could not recognize. The blurry image of a woman stood beside me, but her face remained hidden, like a distant memory fading away. It was as if my subconscious was playing a cruel game, teasing me with fragments of a forgotten past.
But this dream was not a blissful union. Instead, it felt like a nightmare where I was used as a mere object, a sex slave trapped in a matrimonial facade. I hissed as anger bubbled within me.
"That's ancestral magic," Meng gasped. "If we don't break the spell soon, you might never wake up again when you sleep."
I felt a chill down my spine as my situation hit me.
"We have to go to Qrison," she said. "My grandmother knows more about ancestral magic. She can help us break the spell."
I nodded. Feeling exhausted.
We will travel by road since teleportation is not an option for us. Using magic might cause you to fall asleep, so it's wiser to avoid it altogether. Qrison is 5 hours away. Let's begin our journey immediately. It's possible that you will still be awake when we perform the ritual. Meng said, picking up her bag. I will inform my grandmother to make the necessary arrangements.
Jackson, call Liu. When he is done with whatever he is doing, he should head to Qrison. Meng said. "We'll need all the help we can get. We don't have much time, so let's get going."
As my emotions threatened to overwhelm me, I couldn't help but ask, "How about Zhan? Any luck finding him?" The words caught in my throat, and my voice choked with worry and fear.
Jackson calmly replied, "Liu is handling it."
I felt a mix of relief and frustration. Liu was a capable individual, but the urgency of the situation made me restless. "Did you go to his uncle?" I inquired, my hunger mounting. Unconsciously, my fangs elongated, reminding me of my true nature.
Jackson tossed me another blood bottle. "Meng said you would be hungry more than usual because of the magic," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. I nodded, grateful for Meng's warning reminder. I took the bottle and drank it quickly, feeling my energy and strength return.
Let's head out; a car is ready to take us. Meng said.
I'll explain everything his uncle said. Jackson added, helping me to stand up.
We walked outside the crypt and found a car waiting. Jackson loaded our load into the boot, and Meng sat in front while we sat at the back. In no time, the car zoomed off.
I'm all ears, I said, as I mind-linked Jackson's. I was eager to know what his uncle said.
When we went to his uncle's house, his uncle sounded angry. I heard shocking things in his head, though.
I will tell you the same thing I told the others who came to look for him: He is ungrateful. I took him from his mother on her death bed and have cared for him since then. He has grown wings now, started talking back to me, and left the house on his own. That's what his uncle told us.
However, I heard what he was thinking. It scares him shitless, and he prays Zhan dies because he can't know the house they live in and the money they have spent belong to his dead mother.
She gave him a necklace with pictures of Zhan and his parents, along with letters, but he burned the pictures and letters and only gave Zhan the necklace.
He lied to Zhan and told him that his father had raped his mother and left her to die. However, he was also scared that the man would come one day and ask for his son. He is so scared that he prays every day that Zhan doesn't find out the truth about his parents and the house they live in.
As I listened, my heart sank, and a wave of fury surged through me. I was filled with anger at the man for lying to Zhan and manipulating him all his life. I was angry that he had maltreated Zhan and kept him from knowing the truth about his parents. I wanted to do something to help Zhan and make sure he knew his true identity.