As she walked, the road thinned under her feet till it was no more than an untrodden path covered in bushes, with laurel canopies shading the pathway underneath it. Shrubberies started thickening a lot, while tall poplars, ginkgo and wild tallows appeared with more verdant leaves rustling in the breeze. Pushing past wildly growing branches, she blindly walked ahead till she reached a shore. In front of her eyes was a misty pond. At that instant, a gust of wind hit her face then playfully bristled ahead hiding amidst rustling golden reeds growing lushly by the shore. She watched the rippling blue water, leaned against a willow to enjoy a moment of leisure.
Invisible traces of spatial fluctuations were already hovering over the pond, weird spiral ripples rose in tandem and spiral tracks of energy created more mayhem inside the water.
"Splash!"
That monster was here, hiding like a seasoned predator that it was—that Seithe.
Wei Zhiruo took out a few clumps of purple grass from her sleeves. She rubbed them in her palm, crushing the leaves to get a gooey juice out then scattered the rest of the leaves around herself—the aromatic Fevergrass was enough to override all sorts of heavy smells clinging to her. She didn't want to alert it before she was perfectly sure about her countermeasures.
It was funny how not a day has passed since she woke up in a completely different world. But her bad luck didn't allow her to take things slowly. She did leisurely lurk in the mansion at first, in the shadows like critters, investigating places and people, listening to gossip and quarrels. She visited all places she could visit easily without arousing anyone's suspicion. There were enough clues related to the original 'Wei Zhiruo'. Some hidden, some visible—a child without a mother, an ill omen despised by masters of the family and servants alike. Clearly she was a discarded piece of waste, a failed offspring. However, strangely enough her traces were few but scattered everywhere.
But then it became hard to go unnoticed. The mansion welcomed several guests from outside, and everyone looked quite alert and inquisitive. She decided to return to her courtyard to rest.
But then those provocations began.
***
She was sitting alone when it appeared.
"How do you like your new face?" Original Wei Zhiruo leaned against her back, peering along with her into the mirror, meeting eye to eye in its bright bronze surface reflecting them both in the dying candlelight, two identical faces with completely different auras—one maliciously jeering, the other indifferent. "Beautiful, right? All bones and skin—a perfect silhouette of a sick beauty. You've added a strange temperament to it, but previously there was just timidness behind these eyes. Hmmm…it makes one wonder how tortured the soul might have been, how raw were its emotions which it once held within its breast. Tsch! What a loss."
As her fingers touched Wei Zhiruo's lips, she was swatted away.
"Why does it matter to you?" Wei Zhiruo asked, still combing her black hair, disentangling them slowly, caressingly, each strand at a time. "Sad, because you cannot eat her anymore? Or do you feel sorry for her? For a moment I felt you were speaking as her friend."
Seithe scoffed as if she'd heard something hilarious.
"How boring…I thought you'd be afraid of me. Are ghosts different?"
It immediately turned away from her, then picked up a porcelain vessel with white face paint inside it. She dipped her long black nails into it and sniffing she continued, "Not a sliver of fear…But what are you going to do now? How will you compensate me for losing a prey? Don't tell me you didn't know it laa—ignorance isn't going to save you. "
Seithe turned back to her, caressed her neck as she whispered into her ears. "Days and nights I have pined for that aching soul—love deprived, betrayed, innocent clueless little girl that she was, bearing torture and pain so great none of her age could have done that in her place with such stubbornness, or rather foolishness. She was continuously seeking warmth from her enemies, how could she find a little kindness, that kid? Yet…you stole her soul. Such an aching soul—!"
"—I know what you want from me. My answer is no. No, I will do nothing you want."
"Will you not come to a place with me? Such a simple wish to settle a grudge. Isn't that a steal?"
"If that place is your den, I would better refuse."
"You know quite a bit about my lot." Seithe suddenly straightened and looked menacingly into her eyes. "But it doesn't matter, does it laa? Do you think you have a choice? If I want you to come, you have to. What can you do?"
"I can keep you waiting."
Seithe stared back, then vanished.
***
Wei Zhiruo knew the Seithe was bound to her hunting ground. There was no way it would show up alone in her chamber. The original Wei Zhiruo could only be an illusory fragment it had used to trouble her.
After all, amongst the myriad strange creatures born to the Realm in Between, Seithe's had always ranked the best to ever wield the power of illusion. Although they were also easiest to kill, escaping from their clutches was harder than escaping death. Tracking, enticing, mental attacks ranging from the use of illusion to direct invasion of souls, these chimera type beasts born from the combination of resentment and spirits used all kinds of methods to hunt. They liked to feed on human flesh and soul the most, but she knew they held a record of hunting any living creature that they could lay their hands on, always fearing the strong and going after the weakest.
The only good news was that she wasn't facing a mature Seithe—it was just a fledgling still learning to control its innate powers. Wei Zhiruo wouldn't have started pursuing it otherwise. No, she wasn't feeling suicidal.
Looking past her own reflection in the water dyed red by the setting sun, rippling with specks of gold, she covertly scanned her surroundings. The pond itself was fine, not too deep or shallow, however there were too many roots of weeds and lotuses and water plants entangled into a mess.
Wei Zhiruo closed her eyes.
'Don't rush.'
***
Around twelve o'clock in the night, she took action.
The water made a sloshing sound as she walked up to the boat floating just around the periphery, wetting more than just the hem of her skirt in the process. She lightly jumped over it, took hold of its wooden oars heavier than herself, and started rowing. As the boat moved, her muscles grew stiffer with fatigue, each stroke tore into her tender muscles and an urge to take a long, worriless nap grew like tendrils, seducing her to leave.
She gripped the oars and clenched her teeth instead.
'Either, keep moving ahead, or go back to a cold chamber of four walls with nothing but woods and stones, and clutter of somebody who used to be there—isn't this much better? Isn't there something familiar in this air full of sinister intentions?'
The night sky wasn't visible; the breeze had died. However, that flat-bottomed pleasure boat made its way into mistier parts of the pond easily, cutting into the thickets of impenetrable fog.
That Seithe didn't appear immediately.
It might have noticed the intruder, but it was still weighing her up. She heard it making softer sounds as it slithered around like a swift eel propelling its tail against water.
She threw down the wooden oars.
"Thump."
She still had many doubts. With no mana in the air, she didn't know if the Land in Between would still open a door for her. Will those runes work, those rituals respond to this new universe? She threw away those apprehensions, closed her eyes and began the ritual.
Her shallow blue irises froze like faults of ice in snow-covered mountains, veiled behind a mysterious gauze-like mistiness. She stood up slowly, gently like a crane rising its head. Then flinging both her hands wide like she was going to embrace something, she gently, rhythmically twist her hands into seals, a swifter pace followed and she was moving like a butterfly.
The boat rocked in the water, creating bigger ripples.
But it wasn't about the movements. Something deeper shifted around her. Those sealing gestures opened her vision to the World in Between —the realm where souls and spirits thrived, where everything left traces, and ghosts revelled day and night. It was also the place where Seithe's were born from the womb of angry wraiths, nurtured in the river of pain and resentment and became plagues of dream, the nightmares.
Her surroundings turned bizarre. Uncountable, listless looking golden threads fluttered in the wind; the ones connected to herself, and the ones tied on others all appeared like gossamers, frantically spun, delicate and easily breakable yet morbidly beautiful. She faced the karmic ties of cause and effect, and the threads of contracts between creatures and heavenly laws. Her fingers flashed as they calculated for that small chance she needed, picked a thread and snip, she'd snapped it into two.
With this the backlash of using that specific rune wouldn't reach her. She didn't wait anymore and began casting the rune.
She bit the ends of all of her ten fingers, watching as they beaded into drops of glistening red, directed her spiritual sense to weave them into a chaotic rune in the air. Evoking spirits, she twisted her hands above. Her head snapped back, her voice echoed as she chanted the mantra—
"For the abundance of grace, for the nurturing you gave, for all that is true, there rises stars, the moons and sun tonight, so bless me!"
Then she snapped her fingers releasing the seal.
Ten drops of red blood disappeared as if being absorbed by the invisible word that hung in front of Wei Zhiruo. Bit by bit it revealed its true form. When it got forged completely, it turned ablaze in a violent flame. From outright nothingness took shape a string of words forming an ancient looking bow.
She lost her vision. She knew it would heal after a few days, but the darkness still felt suffocating.
She was still reeling in the weakness left after completing the ritual when suddenly, she heard an eerie screeching coming from her left. A black viscous fluid surrounded her like tentacles. One of them successfully poured into her ears, heading directly into her brain, corrupting everything it touched. Something buzzed, her mind felt swollen.
A memory unveiled.
The sound, the color faded.
Faint ache, slight discomfort filled her beating heart. She wondered what this feeling was…betrayal? Or losing hope?
Someone whispered softly—
"Is this to be my will, father? Living like a tool in someone else's hand? Is this what you said I was born for?"
"Will it as you ought, Amaranthus. As our future queen, no, rather, as the last seed of our waning bloodline, you cannot have it your way. You cannot be free from others, if that is your wish. What people have bestowed upon you is their faith and what they desire, is your compliance—don't be ignorant and ungrateful!! Think of our land, of our people and blood and honor. Greater things are at stake and you're destined to do much greater things. The truth is known to all—there isn't a worthier candidate than you who can bring us the destined age of magic, or who can genuinely claim inheritance from our Bloodclan ancestors. I know I ask a lot of you, but it is a truth I wish you can realize sooner than later."
His soft, slightly apologetic voice reverberated. Like a competent monarch, her father had immediately stifled her rising protest.
"Why me?"
"Because of the prophecy, of course!" He then repeated like all the times he had done before, sonorously remembering a dream many had weaved. "After the seal was put upon our Cuiping, it sealed most of its magic sources and turned our world into a pathetic mortal realm. Although those mighty Archmages of the Aeon of Desolation put it there to stop the cracking of the surface world, they weren't successful in undoing it after the catastrophe ended. They were too bruised and too few to make a difference. And there was no worthy Areme left to lead the group. All of them died in the Hundred Year Battle of Tellore, I hope you are aware of your clan's history. Of course, they left a way out for us! They did indeed—unfortunately for us, the remnant magic vanished a little too quickly, and more cleanly than had been predicted. It became impossible for another mage to rise from the ashes of the past, inherit this art of unsealing and then undo that seal successfully. Hundred years went into nurturing mages to their peak power, but then it was found no Areme was inheriting the same level of blood anymore! Imagine how hopeless they must have felt. It was vain to hope! But then you awakened. Your blood is purer than any Areme's ever recorded, purer than those of our First elders and their ancestors! What else could it be but a sign? So you must learn magic and concentrate on learning it whole heartedly."
"You're being deceived." She sounded furious, "Deceived by others, father. No one else knows this, but don't tell me you don't! I don't have a mana bead. Your genius daughter was born disabled! I cannot be a mage. Ever. Not at all. And, you cannot be serious in thinking that the whole world needs a mere child to look forward to its future. That's wishful, that's unpretentiously irresponsible— there are no such people like heaven's chosen ones, father. You're being delusional if you think otherwise."
But he'd walked away. Angry. Without listening to a word she said.
Mist swallowed everything.
Scenes changed like smoke. In them she saw memories of time spent with her loyal friends, her families and carnage…
Red blood covered the land, red moon engulfed the sky.
And then, suddenly, a much warmer image of herself jumped up.
She was sitting on a terrace basking in the sunlight of a clear autumn day, brushing her fingers in white fur…a leaf fell, and she looked up and someone close to her asked — "And what about tea? Won't you have some of that?"
She couldn't recall if she had agreed or not, or just sat there lingering in the soft sunlight, and let that peace fill her up to her brims.
The scene stuck for so long that she even forgot how to breathe.
"Cough- cough- cough!"
Something was desperately rushing out.
"Swoosh—!"
A huge fish-like shadow approached and swam directly under her boat, circling round her. Then it hit the sides. Wei Zhiruo lost her balance, falling headfirst into water.
"Splash-!"
Bitter memories choked her, as did the water.
How did she turn into this mess? This question haunted her again. She was drowning, wasn't she? Why did this feel so familiar—? Oh, she knew this suffocating feeling, this burning in her lungs and ache in her heart — just a day ago, wasn't she struggling under that cursed altar, just like this? In the sacred pond, golden chains with tiny spikes chained her to its center; each pull would muddy the water with her blood. For three months she'd been struggling there like a ghost.
The empire had finally caught her, so how could it let her die so easily? The witch that burned their dreams, the witch that destroyed their ambition to bring back magic and gain immense power; how could they not watch her suffer? The Holy Empires Queen was dead; the holy Priest was dead, the generals, princes and lofty princesses, all dead. Cuiping was left with no good leader and every kingdom burned with war and turmoil—all because of the seeds she'd sowed!
As a result, hunger, starvation and pain had filled her senseless mind, as she watched vitality dry up from her body. She felt those chains around her ankles and wrist and neck again, phantom chains clutching her, suffocating her, dragging her down to drown in that water like some senseless beast ready to be slaughtered while the men and women cheered and sang the songs of victory— as if she was the greatest scourge they had ever slain!
Any struggle was pointless.
The scene shifted. The chains vanished.
She was young again, kneeling down in her thirteen-years-old body, begging her mother to save her clansmen. There was blood splashed all over her body and soaking the ground she knelt on, her forehead bled. That red over the snow bloomed like a decadent rose, rotting curled within fragrance. In the midst of such carnage, she heard her human mother say again—
"But Amaranthus, this is what they deserve." The newly crowned Holy Queen waved her hands and men came to drag Amaranthus away into prison. "This is what you deserve, or anyone else deserves for not being a human. For all those ages of suppression, shouldn't you pay the price? Now finally, we humans are the one ruling you. Shouldn't you suffer the pains your ancestors made us go through?"
'What suppression...of whom? Your lust and greed? Or your thirst for supremacy—? For ages humans lived in their own small kingdoms, we lived in ours. How did this become us ill treating them?'
However, she couldn't make a noise. Her throat was already muted with her mother's overbearing magic. She struggled, choked and gripped her throat. Nothing worked and it felt as if nothing ever would...she felt hopeless—
'Hmm? Hopeless—?'
Two bloodshot eyes jumped open. Wei Zhiruo raised her left hand holding the ancient bow, pulled its string and released an arrow.
"Woosh—!"
The arrow travelled hurtling through the murky water, its golden streaks leaving a trail of thunderbolt flashing behind. A strange symbol jumped out of its arrowhead looking like two concentric circles forming a ring-shaped dial, carved with several oblong, mystical words fitted within. With a snap, the arrow pierced deeply into the thick and hideous muscles knotted together shielding the heart of the Seithe.
"Crackle!"
"Roaaar!!! Impossible—! You are a cultivator?"
The ring enlarged, then created a circular zone. Inside, hundreds of thunderbolts kept flashing hitting the monster's head, writhing like wriggling snakes.
Wei Zhiruo knew how they hunted beforehand. Always preferring that their prey swell in a burst of resentment and fear before having their flesh and soul. They stimulated nightmares and memories, flaming desires and resentment in their prey's heart. Pushing them to recall what they feared the most, abhorred the most or felt the most agitated with. It drowned the target in memories, stifling them with emotions and sensations, suspending their belief and in turn, stifling any desire to struggle from within. Only then, they would come closer, and take a bite— tasting the freshly brewed resentment like tasting aged wine.
An experienced hunter would have noticed the first signs of illusion. Would have fired the first shot when the first illusion formed. Like her, when she'd hunted these beasts uncountable times before this. But she wavered.
Wei Zhiruo swam against the waves to rise up. Her spiritual senses tracked the Seithe. Whenever she felt it rising up, she kept shooting at it. Arrows shot down in droves till the water burned aflame like an inferno, finally revealing the Seithe's true appearance.
"Okay, okay, I know you mean business laaa! Call these back. Stop attacking immediately!"
It begged and fought—it's jagged teeth, two yellow eyeballs were flushed with anger and fear, growing with black slits like those of a feline placed directly over a face like that of a snake's. Yet underneath there was a female torso with human limbs. Waist down there was even an ugly fish tail. The monster screeched with both ends of its mouth almost splitting to its ears, splitting its mandible and the rest of its face into two separate disjointed parts.
"Stop, stooop—! I shouldn't have targeted you, I apologies. I was wrong! You are powerful, why do you want to kill a mere resentful spirit? If you stop, I can lead you to my hidden treasures. You can have monster orbs, magical artifacts...anything, anything you desire! I am even ready to be your slave!! Or do you want real inheritances? I know where those cultivators hide their good stuff!" It was furiously biting and scratching the rune-circle as it begged.
It was still not enough. Wei Zhiruo frowned.
Arching her body into a slightly more effective posture, Wei Zhiruo desperately released several more shots. The arrows pierced into several vulnerable spots. She kept attacking it, and didn't miss the sudden surge of power in Seithe's bulging abdomen. There was something inside it which couldn't find a release and was wriggling disturbingly.
Hurriedly dodging, the Seithe escaped the barricade of runes, swam deeper and deeper wailing angrily like a ghost, but the arrow streaks kept chasing behind it. As if grasping it couldn't survive, it promptly turned back. This time it really wanted to rush desperately into Wei Zhiruo, wishing to blow itself into smithereens along with her!
'It is preparing to blow up!'
"Roaaar –!!! Don't you want to die? Then let me fulfill your death wish!!"
But Wei Zhiruo didn't allow it to. She pulled the strings and released another arrow, watching it piercing through the black water, hitting the Seithe directly between its forehead.
"Hisssrrr- Roarrr—!!"
Seithe's wounded body stilled, then melted away into a sludge.
Resentment rose up like a dark cloud rushing to escape, but Wei Zhiruo was already on the lookout for it. She pulled the strings and another two shots of arrows shot into the thickets of that brown-gray substance.
Droplets of perfectly marble like black orbs scattered everywhere, then ignited. Whatever the thunderbolt touched, it set aflame. It seemed as if the whole pond had caught fire at one point.
Wei Zhiruo swam up to her boat, watching breathlessly as fire sizzled beneath the water, and mist rose like angry fumes. Three souls appeared from nowhere as fire purified the resentment; they hovered gently, then dissipated in the darkness.
One of those ghostly orbs however didn't vanish instantly, instead it came closer to her.
The soul tentatively approached her, and when Wei Zhiruo didn't show any intention to stop it, it swiftly flew up to her forehead, touching it as if giving her a parting kiss. A vision of a woman smiling at her broke through her hazy mind.
"Thank you, mistress Zhiruo. Goodluck."
The woman kindly gazed at her as her soul dissipated with the wind,
However, Wei Zhiruo had already fallen into a strange trance after being kissed. A vision came broken, intermittent yet, awfully like an instruction. It was still the Wei mansion, the roads looked uncannily familiar too.
A faceless creature holding a candle in the dark, moved like a ghost in the night till she'd walked a great distance on the same path Wei Zhiruo took a while ago. When she stopped, it was beside a ghostly courtyard. She raised her candle, and then entered a courtyard door. A few more unremarkable corridors, chambers, pillars and walls flashed past, when finally she walked into a hall. At the center of the hall stood a circular stone. And over that stone, there were strange etchings, flashing weirdly in the flickering candlelight.
Here however, the vision abruptly stopped.
"What is this?"
Wei Zhiruo turned to ask the soul but there was no one there. The wind was surging strangely, and out of nowhere, a strange spirit-song raptured the night wind, playing amongst the grasses by the shore like it was its lute, and by the leaning willow's tresses as if resounding with her wandering thoughts. It rippled seamlessly and fed to her soul, easing some of its burden. The breeze felt sweeter with the gentle voice of rippling water, the moonlight – like a heady mead.
She hoisted herself to sit on the boat, and decided to head back. But the aftereffects of using her Vital force overtook faster. Before she could realize what was happening, she fell into the folds of deep sleep. The boat swayed and rocked, and mist hid her figure gently.