The broken blade. (6)

First, one earthen bed crumbled and returned to the dirt. Then came a second, followed by a third and a fourth, then a tenth, then a hundred. Before he realized it, Yin Long had prayed more than a hundred times. His eyes spun and his fingers twitched, hands trying to grasp things that had long since already stopped existing, things that were never his to begin with. But still, he kept bending the knee in front of each bed.

"Visrama."

"Visrama."

"Ananta Visrama."

At the side of each bed, he prayed. Uttered words that held no meaning to him, words that a part of him perhaps hoped would one day mean the world to him.

"My name is… Yin Long. It is nice to meet you, even if its like this."

At the side of each bed, he carried his forced and crumbling smile. His words caught in his throat each time he had to utter his name, his mind searching for that small light of recollection in the dark quagmire that had become his mind.

"Your pain, would you let me carry it?"

At the side of each bed, he stretched out his hand and offered it to them. His palm rested on their cheeks in much the same way his parents' hands had rested on his in their final moments. But his hand didn't fall down as theirs had, instead it was the other party that turned to dust, yellow particles vanishing like expended fireworks.

"Visrama."

"Visrama."

"Visrama."

"Ananta Visrama."

"Ananta Visrama."

"Visrama…"

"Vis…"

"…ra…"

"…ma…"

Hollow words echoed throughout the slowly emptying room. The air of despair that once lingered in the dark halls was slowly replaced by hope as the souls stuck on the earthen beds saw a chance for salvation, an end to their suffering.

In the midst of all that hope was an ever-deeper maelstrom of pain, a blackish-yellow mass of misery that carried a pale and empty smile, black eyes swimming with sights long gone and buried. When the suffering and despairing gained hope, it was only because they were finally able to pass their misery onto someone else. And so, misery remained an eternal part of the world, a cog in the wheel of existence.

"Visrama."

"Visrama."

"Ananta…"

"Visrama."

"Anan..Ah?"

After who knows how much time passed, there was a pause in the endless prayers of the blackish-yellow mass, a temporary end to Yin Long's prayers.

There was no bed in front of him. The ground was flat and undisturbed, there was space for a bed but there had yet to become a need for one there. Murky eyes swept through the room, the small glowing stones that would usually be reflected in those pupils were now swallowed by their darkness instead.

Now, the only thing reflected in those eyes was a single girl, a fragile mimicry of a smile stapled onto her face as she tugged at his memories. Other than her, there was nothing else. No beds. No suffering souls. No despairing people. No hope. Even the shade that loomed over them had vanished at some point, perhaps it really was consigned to only watch no matter what happened, all it could do was spew threats as empty as Yin Long's smile.

"Eru… Kais… Lao… Yang…"

The voice that spilled out from Yin Long's throat felt foreign. It clashed with the memories that bubbled in his quagmire, the fumes wafting up from each bubble clawing at the sole mote of light that hung weakly over the darkness. But as that non-smile was reflected in murky pupils, the mote of light held strong enough for the right name to finally slip out.

"Lan Yun…"

The voice was like metal grinding against stone, rusty gears creaking as they struggled to turn. Was that really his voice? Was his throat torn from endless prayers? Or was it just that his own voice felt wrong because of the invading memories? He couldn't tell, he honestly couldn't tell anymore.

"Yes, Young Master, it's me. I'm right here, you are right here. Just you, not them. Just. You. Always you."

The familiar girl reflected in the murky eyes, in the lonely mote of light, bent the knee and cradled the mass of misery. A familiar voice, a familiar comfort. She gave misery what it needed, a sense of self, a memory to latch onto, a place where even despair could get some rest. She straightened the knees he had bent and helped him stand, wrapping his arm around her shoulder so that she could support him as he stood, one arm gesturing outward.

"Young Master, my always smiling and eternally kind Young Master. Look at this empty room, this darkness that held nothing but despair. Look how much brighter it is now, look how much freer it is. You saved them. One by one you smiled to them and offered your hand. You listened to their pain and their cries, you gave them a place to rest, and thus you saved them. My Young Master, my brightest sun, look at what your light can do for others. One day, I know that your light can reach all of the Netherworld, you'll become the hope they never had, we never had."

Yin Long's eyes followed her gesture as she swept her arm across the room, the glowing stones dancing in her eyes. But all he saw was darkness, a swirling maelstrom of murkiness that blotted out everything else. The only place one could find a sun down here was within Lan Yun's eyes as she gazed upon him, that crumpled smile still stitched onto her expression.

"Let's go, my kind Young Master. I saw a place on the way where you can get some rest."

Did she see what was reflected, or rather, what wasn't reflected in his gaze? If so, she didn't let it show, lending him her body as they left the Resting Station.

The streets outside were the same as when they first entered, the things happening inside the Resting Station didn't seem to hold any bearing on the rest of the world. Just a little slice of misery that got transferred, the great machine would still keep rolling because a new cog had taken over the spot.

"There'll come a time, Young Master. Someone will enter this place to look for someone they left here and they'll find it empty. That person will know, that person will feel better because of it. Perhaps they'll take that happiness along and spread it out, or perhaps they won't. Whether or not that one person does it, there will be others in the future. Other Resting Stations, other people. Sooner or later, someone will spread it, that's how the world becomes a better place. At that point, they will know you as the saint you are. It may be of sin, but a saint nonetheless."

Lan Yun's voice snuck into Yin Long's ears, digging directly into the thoughts that had just barely started to creep into his mind. She knew exactly what to say to help him, knew exactly how to comfort the broken man. And thus she held him up as they kept walking, a few odd stares landing on Yin Long.

Before long, the two arrived in front of an unassuming building, its only defining factor being that it was one of the few that had two floors. There was no door, the wide entrance was completely open so that you could walk straight up to the make-shift counter formed by a horizontal table, a burly man whose left eye was torn out, the scar still fresh thanks to the Netherworld, sitting behind the table and fiddling with some cards. Engraved into the frame above the door was a simple sentence.

Even us dead deserve some rest.

"Here, Young Master. If even the dead deserve some rest then you deserve extra of it."

Lan Yun spoke softly as she crossed the threshold, helping Yin Long up to the counter. The man raised his tanned head, his lone eye glancing at Yin Long. Green pupils swept over his face, his murky eyes and weary yet twisted expression adorned by a forced smile. The man slid a card forward, presenting Yin Long with the ace of spades.

"First floor, there beneath the stairs. You can take the room to the far right. Get some rest, traveller, you look like you need it more than most."

Yin Long could barely force out a nod before he turned, a slightly narrow hallway hidden beneath a winding set of stairs spreading out a few steps away from him.

"Take the card."

The burly man's voice reached him just as they were about to walk again, forcing Yin Long to turn back and pick up the card, pocketing the ace of spades to his chest. He and Lan Yun then moved to the room that the man had offered them, entering a simple and mostly unfurnished room. There was a table and two chairs, as well as one bed, but that was it. The bed was also too small, it would barely be enough for Yin Long alone, there was no way it would fit the two of them. But Lan Yun stopped him when he wanted to turn around, dragging him towards the bed.

"It's fine, Young Master. Something like this is more than enough for us, we can just keep close."

She said so, but she didn't actually lay down on the bed, she instead sat down on the mattress and leaned against the wall. She made sure to drag Yin Long down onto the bed afterwards, resting his head on her thighs rather than letting him use the provided pillow. Her hand started to softly stroke his head, combing his hair as she gently whispered to him.

"My kind Young Master. My hard-working Young Master. You always did your best, you always tried your hardest. Sometimes you failed, sometimes you succeeded, but you always tried your hardest. Rest now, my king Young Master, rest."

His breath felt clogged as he laid there, that familiar warmth brushing against his head with her every move. His face was pointed towards her so he got a lungful of her scent with every breath, tickling his memories each time. Before long, it started to wear at him. Or perhaps he had been worn down long ago and this was just the final straw.

"Lan Yun… Gh… Lan Yun…"

His voice leaked out as he raised his arms and clutched onto her robes, gripping them as if he was afraid that she would slip out of his grasp. His words were broken up by subdued sobs, his face and Lan Yun's robes quickly becoming wet as he buried his face in her scent.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I failed. I was weak. I'm sorry. Please… Don't leave me…"

He continued to sob as he apologised, his voice cracking as he finally cried. He kept apologising and crying, exactly what for known only to him.