Scars of the Past

Chapter 75

Scars of the Past

His own room--Leo could weep. Well, he did weep. Though it was the room he chose, it was the room many others chose as well. Blackie, Milky, and even Howly set up camp even before him, finding their own corners to sleep in. 

He was closing in on the fourth decade of his life, and didn't even have his own room. Why wouldn't he weep? Alas, he couldn't exactly kick them out. 

Setting up the bed he was sleeping on in the mud hut, as well as a few knickknacks, he stepped back toward the door and put his hands on his hips, nodding. Ignoring the three furred little creatures holing up in far corners, it was a perfectly serviceable room... if he was in prison. Then again, he didn't have to stay here, and wouldn't outside of simply sleeping. 

Besides, it wasn't the room that was the most appealing aspect of the new building--it was the balcony connected to it. Stepping out, he couldn't help but let loose a smile; trees sprung like blades of grass all around him, and if he reached over the balcony's railing, he could pluck the nearby fluttering leaves. Instead, he sat down on the chair of his own making, leaned back, and enjoyed the quaint beauty for a little while. 

He feared that having a space like this might make him lazy, so he'd already decided to limit himself to only one hour a day. Two every once in a while. 

"Leo?" Lu Yang called out his name from the room.

"Out here," the older man joined him soon after, admiring the surrounding view as well. 

"I can see why you wanted this room."

"Right? Why'd you call me?" he asked.

"Wanted to see if there was a way to have the room to myself," the two men chuckled at the same time. "Then I saw yours."

"There's no escaping them," Leo said. 

"There really isn't."

"Sorry, I haven't made a second chair yet."

"That's alright. I've sat a long while in my life," Lu Yang said. "My knees had gotten weak."

"How's the garden doing?" Leo asked.

"The forest's soil is unmatched," he replied. "I garner that we'll have the first batch of plants in just three to four weeks."

"Thank you for taking care of it," Leo said. "Are you busy after this?"

The two men fell silent and looked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I have someplace to go," Leo said, standing up from the chair and stretching. "Perhaps you'll know more about it than I do."

Though Leo felt a bit of trepidation over taking Lu Yang deep inside the forest, he yearned for the answers far more than he feared the fallout. He packed some juice and soon departed from the house. Some animals followed them for a little while, but scattered before long, seemingly realizing where he was going. 

Lu Yang remained silent, seemingly picking up on the weight of the choice, following betwixt the trees patiently. Leo trailed the path from his memory, wondering once again whether he was making the right choice. His initial plan was to put the quest of the Well on the backburner and wait until Yue and Liang returned, seeing whether the pair of kids would know something.

However, it was too late now--they'd crossed toward where the trees began to wither and where the steles began to appear. Lu Yang paused and inspected them occasionally, just as Leo did when he saw them the first time. However, as the latter never truly stopped, the former never meandered for too long. 

Eventually, they reached the Well--it was just as he left it, surrounded by thirteen steles, alight with mystery. Lu Yang's expression distorted into one of shock and awe as the duo stood upon the ledge, looking down at the small pit. 

"This is it," Leo said, jumping down. Lu Yang followed a moment later. "When I first arrived here, there was only the Well. For some reason, though, the steles broke out from below. I can read just one of them."

"This one...?" Lu Yang pointed at the correct stele. 

"Yes." 

"You know how to read Ancient Wl'wani language?" Leo fell silent, staring into the eyes beholding terror. He didn't think too much of it, as he seldom had a working knowledge of this world's linguistics. Perhaps, he shouldn't have been as forthcoming. 

"It reads," ignoring the question, he decided to push the conversation forward in hopes that Lu Yang would just ignore it... as he'd ignored a few things beforehand. "Here Layeth Avun'van, Our beloved Second King; He who sheltered Humans, and shielded them from the cruel World." Leo gently touched the stele, running his fingers over the runic carvings. 

Silence fell, however, prompting him to look to the side where he saw that Lu Yang was shivering. Something had terrified the man--whether it was the epitaph, or Leo's working knowledge of apparently demonic language... it was still uncertain. 

"I have a working idea," Leo continued. "Of this place in a world before the trees. I caught a glimpse of it, once. Whether it was my mind conjuring up an image as to reinforce my beliefs, or whether it was real... it had been eating away at me since. I only seek answers, if ever so little. Nothing more."

**

There were not many things that could turn Lu Yang catatonic, and even fewer that could cause his heart to beat like a war drum. Cultivators spend lifetimes quelling their emotions, for they experienced a vast array of unknowable throughout their lives. If they spiraled over every new one, every cultivator would go mad before adulthood. Some things, however, remained terrifying beyond count.

Spirits of the Nameless Forest.

Voices of the Forbidden Valley. 

Human faces ebbing across the River of Corpses.

Giant skeletons lining the Burning Steeps. 

Despondent cries during the Night of Terrors at the shores of the Wailing Bay. 

There were some horrors in the world that remained apathetically cold regardless of one's strength, the ilk that did not care for the rules and laws of the world. 

Ancient Wl'wani language was not necessarily the core of the horror, but more so one of its warning signs. 

There was a school in the Central Ashlands called The Last Voice that only ever had one Master and one Disciple. They were both mortal, oft sons or daughters of important families that came too late to fight for the position in their Clan. They were tasked with one, simple thing: maintaining an understanding of the Ancient Wl'wani language, as it was otherwise forbidden across the known continent. Anyone caught trying to learn it would be executed without trial. 

Wl'wani language was spoken by the First Demons, ancient race of pre-humans that drew the humanity to near extinction after exploiting them for thousands of years as slave labor. Ever since the last war, where the humanity just barely eked out its victory, the language--and everything related to the First Demons--was labeled heretical and forbidden. 

More than Leo's knowledge of the language, what shattered Lu Yang's thoughts into innumerable pieces, was the epitaph itself. 

Avun'van was a familiar name, but distantly so; he was a mythological figure that was one of the first to enslave humanity, according to the Ancient Writs. Why, then, would his epitaph claim otherwise? 

Shaking his head, Lu Yang gnashed his teeth angrily.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he asked, ascertaining that he was about to die. "Did you bring me here to mock me? To laugh at me?" Leo didn't say anything in response, merely staring at him. 

"No," he said. "I just wanted answers. In the image I saw," I continued. "I saw Blackie, and Milky, and Red. They were not in a forest, however. Rather, they were in a city, one gilded and bejeweled, beautiful beyond anything else I'd ever seen. And there were people there, too--like us, but not exactly."

"Cease your slandering!!" Lu Yang interrupted. "How dare you try and use the Immortal Spirits to write out your holistic fantasy?! The demons enslaved humans, mistreated them for eons, and nearly killed us all off! How dare you bring me to their tomb, and make claims that they were benevolent and kind and that they lived with the Spirits?!" Qi began to surge from within him. However, just as it did, the steles around resonated and responded--in a breath, he felt invisible energy grapple him and pull him to the ground. 

Just as he was about to curse further, he saw it--the image Leo described. A glimpse into the world before time. Even if his heart was reeling, and trying desperately to convince him it was a lie... something inside his mind cracked and snapped. His eyes swelled with tears as he felt his entire identity fall apart. 

Why did his Clan worship the Immortal Spirits? Because they were the reason Humanity was ultimately able to defeat the First Demons and liberate themselves. But, feeling betrayed by Humanity's lack of gratitude, they built the Forest and retreated. 

Was it all a lie? 

Was everything he believed in a lie?

Was the entire history of humanity distorted beyond recognition? 

No... it... couldn't be. He didn't want to believe it. 

In the meantime, Leo was terrified, confused, and terrified. For a brief moment there he thought that Lu Yang got possessed by some of the ghosts here, but it seemed that he was, instead, possessed by ever-growing self-doubt.

None of what the man said made much sense to Leo, though he could faintly fill in the gaps. Looking back at the stele, he realized that he should be very careful in the future with... everything. Just because he lived in isolation didn't mean that he could get used to being careless. After all, he was entirely blind to the complete history of this world--his minor musings, ideas, and thoughts were ultimately pure hogwash. Even if, in some broad strokes, they turned out to be true, they'd miss the nuance of history. 

His gaze veered back to the kneeling Lu Yang who was openly crying like a newborn child. Snot bubbled at his nostrils, his lip quivered, and his gums bled from how firmly he pressed his teeth against them. It was a sight beyond ugly, yet also one beyond heartbreaking. A thousand thoughts coalesced into a blade that pierced the man's soul, and Leo was wholly responsible.

All he wanted was some answers... but it seemed, as with any history of any place, nothing ever was binary. Looking back at the stele and the epitaph, he wondered something else--why was only one written in the language he could recognize? What about the others? Did they, too, hold some distorted truths about the history? If so, he truly did not want to continue digging further into this place. 

Whether righteous, whether evil, whether truthful or deceitful, distant histories that may as well be myths would do little good by being unearthed. There was nothing to be gained, and a lot to lose. 

Sensing something, he looked back toward where they arrived, and saw the muscular tiger standing at the edge looking down at them. Well, not them, but the steles. For the first time, Leo had to admit that there were thoughts behind those eyes--even if there was no human expression pressed upon the furred facade, there was a story bubbling like a storm within the gaze. 

Perhaps they were not as clever as people, but just like animals on Earth, they felt. They knew care as they knew cruelty and loss. 

It seemed that the tiger especially had links with the one stele Leo could read, for it could not look away. Lu Yang wept, the terrifying creature stared, and Leo... he hung his head low, recognizing his undue haste. 

Damned be the truths of the past, if they teared open the scars of the present.