Chapter 140: 140
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Silence filled the desolate graveyard as they stood atop the coiled skeleton of a colossal sea-serpent who had died not too far away from the great Wound. The seemingly pulsating and glowing fissure was a terrible sight to behold.
Reed and Lu'um had reached of the five fissures -- great, open wounds of the continent -- that would eventually lead to the eventual destruction of the world if left untreated.
Corrupted miasma poured out of the fissure in sporadic bursts in horrifying flare-ups that had left much of what remained down in the state it currently was in. The miasma had slowly decomposed the remains of an uncountable number of corpses until only withered bone was that had remained of them.
"There is no time to spare," Reed said, "The faster we suture this wound, the better."
Lu'um nodded in agreement but felt great unease now that they were at the precipice of the massive fissure. She had expected it to be bad, but not on this level. The wound had almost festered to the point of becoming an unmanageable situation, something they would not have been able to fix by themselves. It was still doable for them, but it would not be easy.
And that was what made her uneasy. The difficulty of the task. Reed was not like his former self, a matter of great concern for her, despite her beloved's disinterest in the topic. He no longer possessed the terrifying, overflowing power he once had.
A brilliant sun he was no more; he was akin to a firestorm at best, but that would not be enough for the task at hand. A bucket of water could not put out a raging house fire, Lu'um thought. As much as she believed in his newfound determination, she feared that her beloved would not be able to handle what would be required of him this time.
He would not be able to draw assistance from his hated counterpart, who had scorned him, nor the one he had relied upon in the past, for she was not with them anymore.
She would not be able to help him this time either, Lu'um thought, for they would have their own separate roles in order to complete the herculean task of sealing the fissure.
Reed had long noticed the abnormal rigidity on Lu'um's face and knew what it meant. She only ever put on that stoic mask whenever she did not want to display weakness. Her warrior training was instinctive; it was a honed response to fear and anxiety that'd been drilled into her bones over many a year, to the point that she could not defy it.
He knew much of her past and of what she had grown through in order to cultivate that... strength of will and unbending character that made her seem an invincible figure in the darkest times. She had been trained since childhood in the ways of the leader, the warrior, and the wise-man. Her life had not been an easy one, for she had been burden with thrice the burden of other children... for his sake.
To lead the masses for him, destroy his enemies, and guide him whenever he found himself lost -- that was the task she had been assigned even before her birth. Hence, she was taught the way that kings, generals, and sages conducted themselves before the people.
These were her masks, so to speak.
When it was necessary to establish a dialogue with other people, she would adopt the mask of the leader, which was open-hearted, magnanimous, and sympathetic. Her mental training allowed her to subtly persuade even the most cold-heart individual into following her and by extension, Reed.
If they ever needed someone's assistance, she could always find it. A goddess at heart born with a devil's tongue -- that was what Lu'um was when she wore the mask of the leader.
She was so proficient at manipulating the hearts of people that she did not even have to rely on Anima-based techniques to influence people. Her words were more than enough. In truth though, this was the mask that Lu'um had the least experience in, for a variety of reasons...
When conflict was inevitable, she wore the mask of the warrior, which was infallible, cold, and ever-distant. Her emotions faded into the deep of heart as unforgiving winter winds of indifferent logic shrouded her from pain, fear, and anxiety.
All emotions sealed beneath a self-created mental prison -- it was an ancient mental technique created by the Ancient Mulian war-sages of ages past.
In battle, the heart was unnecessary. Emotions be they pleasurable or painful only served to distract the warrior from the task at hand, which was to kill.
Fear, Worry, Hatred, Pride, Pity, Passion, Shock, Sorrow, Panic, Depression, and the rest; All emotions were enemies to the warrior, just as much as the foes he would have to face in reality.
To Ancient Mulians, every battle was two-fold in nature. One inside themselves, and the other against their enemies.
Only a triumph over both themselves and their foe was considered a true victory to be remembered, to be spoken about to their fellow comrades.
They adhered to the belief that a noble warrior should not kill under the guidance of the ever-turbulent and chaotic heart, which was many-faceted and fickle as a summer breeze.
If one fought with their heart, at one moment they might experience the intoxicating bliss of unfounded arrogance, and in the next waking moment, also feel the excruciating suffering brought on Pride's response, the beckoning of Fear, Shock, and Panic.
For Lu'um this was the mask she most frequently donned, but at the same was the one she had the hardest difficulty wearing. There had been many a time when she had failed to don it properly as of late, much to her frustration... which in itself was proof of her failure.
As for the last mask, that of the sage, the confidant, and shepherd, Lu'um knew the best. It was a mask formed out of the crystal of wisdom itself, the summation of one's life experiences, and the lessons extracted from them upon reflection.
For Lu'um, who had seen, done, and regretted many a thing over the course of several mortal lifetimes, she did not lack lessons to teach, or advice to offer. She knew a great deal about Life, as did all of her people, the Ancient Mulians, who had been cursed with lifespans greater than all of the races that once existed in the starry sky...
"Look at me," said Reed. He forced her to look at him dead-on and said, "I can do this. You don't need to worry about me. In fact, you can't afford to worry; the task ahead of us will demand everything we have."
Lu'um shut her eyes and said, "I know, but you have to understand that what you're abou--"
"Yes, it seems suicidal, I get it. Believe it or not, but you're not the only one who's scared right now. Me? I'm fucking terrified... but she would not have told me to do this without a good reason.
She would not have sent me out here to die, Lu'um. That I am sure of."
"I believe that as well but it does not make this any easier to handle," said Lu'um as she tried her best to suppress her emotions beneath the mask.
Reed shook his head and said, "She asked me to put my faith in her, and I am obligated to fulfill that request. I owe her that much.
...Let me put this way, my sunflower. Do you have faith in me?"
Lu'um nodded silently.
"I feel the same way about her and you. Your faith is what gives me strength whenever my legs start shaking, whenever my heart starts beating wildly, whenever my vision seems to grow dark.
A fire cannot exist without the spark that lit it into being. That's what both of you are to me -- my firestarters. I wouldn't have been able to do half of the things I've done without both of you."
Reed let go off Lu'um and separated himself from the pocket bubble, which caught her completely off guard. The instant he stepped out of it, the crushing pressure of the sea fell upon his shoulders.
He grimaced at the thought that Lu'um had been carrying something like this on her shoulders, especially after accounting for both of them.
When Lu'um tried to reach out for him, he raised a single hand up in rejection.
If I don't make the first move myself, she'll keep on hesitating. That worry would've continued to grow. Might've even affected her performance later on, too.
He needed to show her that he could still be depended on.
Reed gazed at the glowing fissure and suddenly felt a wave of fear and anxiety wash over him. His heart started pounding like a mad drum as he gazed at the chaotic flux of miasma and Anima that laid below. It was akin to gazing at the face of the mighty Sun in all of its terrible majesty.
...I can do this.
I can do THIS.
I trust her.
I have faith in her.
Do it. Go Now. DO IT.
Reed grit his teeth and then... allowed himself to drop into the fissure. He fell.
His faith would protect and guide him. He was sure of it.
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Silence filled the desolate graveyard as they stood atop the coiled skeleton of a colossal sea-serpent who had died not too far away from the great Wound. The seemingly pulsating and glowing fissure was a terrible sight to behold.
Reed and Lu'um had reached of the five fissures -- great, open wounds of the continent -- that would eventually lead to the eventual destruction of the world if left untreated.
Corrupted miasma poured out of the fissure in sporadic bursts in horrifying flare-ups that had left much of what remained down in the state it currently was in. The miasma had slowly decomposed the remains of an uncountable number of corpses until only withered bone was that had remained of them.
"There is no time to spare," Reed said, "The faster we suture this wound, the better."
Lu'um nodded in agreement but felt great unease now that they were at the precipice of the massive fissure. She had expected it to be bad, but not on this level. The wound had almost festered to the point of becoming an unmanageable situation, something they would not have been able to fix by themselves. It was still doable for them, but it would not be easy.
And that was what made her uneasy. The difficulty of the task. Reed was not like his former self, a matter of great concern for her, despite her beloved's disinterest in the topic. He no longer possessed the terrifying, overflowing power he once had.
A brilliant sun he was no more; he was akin to a firestorm at best, but that would not be enough for the task at hand. A bucket of water could not put out a raging house fire, Lu'um thought. As much as she believed in his newfound determination, she feared that her beloved would not be able to handle what would be required of him this time.
He would not be able to draw assistance from his hated counterpart, who had scorned him, nor the one he had relied upon in the past, for she was not with them anymore.
She would not be able to help him this time either, Lu'um thought, for they would have their own separate roles in order to complete the herculean task of sealing the fissure.
Reed had long noticed the abnormal rigidity on Lu'um's face and knew what it meant. She only ever put on that stoic mask whenever she did not want to display weakness. Her warrior training was instinctive; it was a honed response to fear and anxiety that'd been drilled into her bones over many a year, to the point that she could not defy it.
He knew much of her past and of what she had grown through in order to cultivate that... strength of will and unbending character that made her seem an invincible figure in the darkest times. She had been trained since childhood in the ways of the leader, the warrior, and the wise-man. Her life had not been an easy one, for she had been burden with thrice the burden of other children... for his sake.
To lead the masses for him, destroy his enemies, and guide him whenever he found himself lost -- that was the task she had been assigned even before her birth. Hence, she was taught the way that kings, generals, and sages conducted themselves before the people.
These were her masks, so to speak.
When it was necessary to establish a dialogue with other people, she would adopt the mask of the leader, which was open-hearted, magnanimous, and sympathetic. Her mental training allowed her to subtly persuade even the most cold-heart individual into following her and by extension, Reed.
If they ever needed someone's assistance, she could always find it. A goddess at heart born with a devil's tongue -- that was what Lu'um was when she wore the mask of the leader.
She was so proficient at manipulating the hearts of people that she did not even have to rely on Anima-based techniques to influence people. Her words were more than enough. In truth though, this was the mask that Lu'um had the least experience in, for a variety of reasons...
When conflict was inevitable, she wore the mask of the warrior, which was infallible, cold, and ever-distant. Her emotions faded into the deep of heart as unforgiving winter winds of indifferent logic shrouded her from pain, fear, and anxiety.
All emotions sealed beneath a self-created mental prison -- it was an ancient mental technique created by the Ancient Mulian war-sages of ages past.
In battle, the heart was unnecessary. Emotions be they pleasurable or painful only served to distract the warrior from the task at hand, which was to kill.
Fear, Worry, Hatred, Pride, Pity, Passion, Shock, Sorrow, Panic, Depression, and the rest; All emotions were enemies to the warrior, just as much as the foes he would have to face in reality.
To Ancient Mulians, every battle was two-fold in nature. One inside themselves, and the other against their enemies.
Only a triumph over both themselves and their foe was considered a true victory to be remembered, to be spoken about to their fellow comrades.
They adhered to the belief that a noble warrior should not kill under the guidance of the ever-turbulent and chaotic heart, which was many-faceted and fickle as a summer breeze.
If one fought with their heart, at one moment they might experience the intoxicating bliss of unfounded arrogance, and in the next waking moment, also feel the excruciating suffering brought on Pride's response, the beckoning of Fear, Shock, and Panic.
For Lu'um this was the mask she most frequently donned, but at the same was the one she had the hardest difficulty wearing. There had been many a time when she had failed to don it properly as of late, much to her frustration... which in itself was proof of her failure.
As for the last mask, that of the sage, the confidant, and shepherd, Lu'um knew the best. It was a mask formed out of the crystal of wisdom itself, the summation of one's life experiences, and the lessons extracted from them upon reflection.
For Lu'um, who had seen, done, and regretted many a thing over the course of several mortal lifetimes, she did not lack lessons to teach, or advice to offer. She knew a great deal about Life, as did all of her people, the Ancient Mulians, who had been cursed with lifespans greater than all of the races that once existed in the starry sky...
"Look at me," said Reed. He forced her to look at him dead-on and said, "I can do this. You don't need to worry about me. In fact, you can't afford to worry; the task ahead of us will demand everything we have."
Lu'um shut her eyes and said, "I know, but you have to understand that what you're abou--"
"Yes, it seems suicidal, I get it. Believe it or not, but you're not the only one who's scared right now. Me? I'm fucking terrified... but she would not have told me to do this without a good reason.
She would not have sent me out here to die, Lu'um. That I am sure of."
"I believe that as well but it does not make this any easier to handle," said Lu'um as she tried her best to suppress her emotions beneath the mask.
Reed shook his head and said, "She asked me to put my faith in her, and I am obligated to fulfill that request. I owe her that much.
...Let me put this way, my sunflower. Do you have faith in me?"
Lu'um nodded silently.
"I feel the same way about her and you. Your faith is what gives me strength whenever my legs start shaking, whenever my heart starts beating wildly, whenever my vision seems to grow dark.
A fire cannot exist without the spark that lit it into being. That's what both of you are to me -- my firestarters. I wouldn't have been able to do half of the things I've done without both of you."
Reed let go off Lu'um and separated himself from the pocket bubble, which caught her completely off guard. The instant he stepped out of it, the crushing pressure of the sea fell upon his shoulders.
He grimaced at the thought that Lu'um had been carrying something like this on her shoulders, especially after accounting for both of them.
When Lu'um tried to reach out for him, he raised a single hand up in rejection.
If I don't make the first move myself, she'll keep on hesitating. That worry would've continued to grow. Might've even affected her performance later on, too.
He needed to show her that he could still be depended on.
Reed gazed at the glowing fissure and suddenly felt a wave of fear and anxiety wash over him. His heart started pounding like a mad drum as he gazed at the chaotic flux of miasma and Anima that laid below. It was akin to gazing at the face of the mighty Sun in all of its terrible majesty.
...I can do this.
I can do THIS.
I trust her.
I have faith in her.
Do it. Go Now. DO IT.
Reed grit his teeth and then... allowed himself to drop into the fissure. He fell.
His faith would protect and guide him. He was sure of it.
Silence filled the desolate graveyard as they stood atop the coiled skeleton of a colossal sea-serpent who had died not too far away from the great Wound. The seemingly pulsating and glowing fissure was a terrible sight to behold.Reed and Lu'um had reached of the five fissures -- great, open wounds of the continent -- that would eventually lead to the eventual destruction of the world if left untreated.Corrupted miasma poured out of the fissure in sporadic bursts in horrifying flare-ups that had left much of what remained down in the state it currently was in. The miasma had slowly decomposed the remains of an uncountable number of corpses until only withered bone was that had remained of them."There is no time to spare," Reed said, "The faster we suture this wound, the better."Lu'um nodded in agreement but felt great unease now that they were at the precipice of the massive fissure. She had expected it to be bad, but not on this level. The wound had almost festered to the point of becoming an unmanageable situation, something they would not have been able to fix by themselves. It was still doable for them, but it would not be easy.And that was what made her uneasy. The difficulty of the task. Reed was not like his former self, a matter of great concern for her, despite her beloved's disinterest in the topic. He no longer possessed the terrifying, overflowing power he once had.A brilliant sun he was no more; he was akin to a firestorm at best, but that would not be enough for the task at hand. A bucket of water could not put out a raging house fire, Lu'um thought. As much as she believed in his newfound determination, she feared that her beloved would not be able to handle what would be required of him this time.He would not be able to draw assistance from his hated counterpart, who had scorned him, nor the one he had relied upon in the past, for she was not with them anymore.She would not be able to help him this time either, Lu'um thought, for they would have their own separate roles in order to complete the herculean task of sealing the fissure.Reed had long noticed the abnormal rigidity on Lu'um's face and knew what it meant. She only ever put on that stoic mask whenever she did not want to display weakness. Her warrior training was instinctive; it was a honed response to fear and anxiety that'd been drilled into her bones over many a year, to the point that she could not defy it.He knew much of her past and of what she had grown through in order to cultivate that... strength of will and unbending character that made her seem an invincible figure in the darkest times. She had been trained since childhood in the ways of the leader, the warrior, and the wise-man. Her life had not been an easy one, for she had been burden with thrice the burden of other children... for his sake.To lead the masses for him, destroy his enemies, and guide him whenever he found himself lost -- that was the task she had been assigned even before her birth. Hence, she was taught the way that kings, generals, and sages conducted themselves before the people.These were her masks, so to speak.When it was necessary to establish a dialogue with other people, she would adopt the mask of the leader, which was open-hearted, magnanimous, and sympathetic. Her mental training allowed her to subtly persuade even the most cold-heart individual into following her and by extension, Reed.If they ever needed someone's assistance, she could always find it. A goddess at heart born with a devil's tongue -- that was what Lu'um was when she wore the mask of the leader.She was so proficient at manipulating the hearts of people that she did not even have to rely on Anima-based techniques to influence people. Her words were more than enough. In truth though, this was the mask that Lu'um had the least experience in, for a variety of reasons...When conflict was inevitable, she wore the mask of the warrior, which was infallible, cold, and ever-distant. Her emotions faded into the deep of heart as unforgiving winter winds of indifferent logic shrouded her from pain, fear, and anxiety.All emotions sealed beneath a self-created mental prison -- it was an ancient mental technique created by the Ancient Mulian war-sages of ages past.In battle, the heart was unnecessary. Emotions be they pleasurable or painful only served to distract the warrior from the task at hand, which was to kill.Fear, Worry, Hatred, Pride, Pity, Passion, Shock, Sorrow, Panic, Depression, and the rest; All emotions were enemies to the warrior, just as much as the foes he would have to face in reality.To Ancient Mulians, every battle was two-fold in nature. One inside themselves, and the other against their enemies.Only a triumph over both themselves and their foe was considered a true victory to be remembered, to be spoken about to their fellow comrades.They adhered to the belief that a noble warrior should not kill under the guidance of the ever-turbulent and chaotic heart, which was many-faceted and fickle as a summer breeze.If one fought with their heart, at one moment they might experience the intoxicating bliss of unfounded arrogance, and in the next waking moment, also feel the excruciating suffering brought on Pride's response, the beckoning of Fear, Shock, and Panic.For Lu'um this was the mask she most frequently donned, but at the same was the one she had the hardest difficulty wearing. There had been many a time when she had failed to don it properly as of late, much to her frustration... which in itself was proof of her failure.As for the last mask, that of the sage, the confidant, and shepherd, Lu'um knew the best. It was a mask formed out of the crystal of wisdom itself, the summation of one's life experiences, and the lessons extracted from them upon reflection.For Lu'um, who had seen, done, and regretted many a thing over the course of several mortal lifetimes, she did not lack lessons to teach, or advice to offer. She knew a great deal about Life, as did all of her people, the Ancient Mulians, who had been cursed with lifespans greater than all of the races that once existed in the starry sky..."Look at me," said Reed. He forced her to look at him dead-on and said, "I can do this. You don't need to worry about me. In fact, you can't afford to worry; the task ahead of us will demand everything we have."Lu'um shut her eyes and said, "I know, but you have to understand that what you're abou--""Yes, it seems suicidal, I get it. Believe it or not, but you're not the only one who's scared right now. Me? I'm fucking terrified... but she would not have told me to do this without a good reason.She would not have sent me out here to die, Lu'um. That I am sure of.""I believe that as well but it does not make this any easier to handle," said Lu'um as she tried her best to suppress her emotions beneath the mask.Reed shook his head and said, "She asked me to put my faith in her, and I am obligated to fulfill that request. I owe her that much....Let me put this way, my sunflower. Do you have faith in me?"Lu'um nodded silently."I feel the same way about her and you. Your faith is what gives me strength whenever my legs start shaking, whenever my heart starts beating wildly, whenever my vision seems to grow dark.A fire cannot exist without the spark that lit it into being. That's what both of you are to me -- my firestarters. I wouldn't have been able to do half of the things I've done without both of you."Reed let go off Lu'um and separated himself from the pocket bubble, which caught her completely off guard. The instant he stepped out of it, the crushing pressure of the sea fell upon his shoulders.He grimaced at the thought that Lu'um had been carrying something like this on her shoulders, especially after accounting for both of them.When Lu'um tried to reach out for him, he raised a single hand up in rejection.If I don't make the first move myself, she'll keep on hesitating. That worry would've continued to grow. Might've even affected her performance later on, too.He needed to show her that he could still be depended on.Reed gazed at the glowing fissure and suddenly felt a wave of fear and anxiety wash over him. His heart started pounding like a mad drum as he gazed at the chaotic flux of miasma and Anima that laid below. It was akin to gazing at the face of the mighty Sun in all of its terrible majesty....I can do this.I can do THIS.I trust her.I have faith in her.Do it. Go Now. DO IT.Reed grit his teeth and then... allowed himself to drop into the fissure. He fell.His faith would protect and guide him. He was sure of it.
