Chapter 13 Zizi
Zizi
“You cannot hold me here forever,” Four declares. Using their combined powers, the Kings have chained Four to his throne.
Days have passed in the mortal realm since Lei Ying was summoned by the Emperor, and Four is desperate for news. “When I am free, you will know my wrath.”
“Your wrath? Do you not understand what is happening, Brother?” One says.
“All I know is that you have imprisoned me for no reason.”
Two snarls. “You fool! Your extended and repeated presence in the mortal world has caused a disruption in the balance between
realms, a ripple effect that has reached the Blight.”
“What are you talking about?” Four says, still struggling against his restraints.
“Have you not noticed that the Blight has become more active? Have you not wondered why? Have your Reapers not provided you
with reports?”
“He has not read the reports in months,” says a silky voice. Ten glides out from the shadows, approaching the throne. His
scarlet robes look bloodier than usual. “He has been busy wasting his time with his little mortal.”
“You have been spying—”
Ten wags a finger. “Not spying. Observing. But that is beside the point.” He leans in, tipping Four’s chin up with a cold
finger. “Open your eyes and face the truth. Do you even know how long your absences from the underworld have been? Or were
you too wrapped up in your absurd charade, pretending to be human? Think, dear brother. How often have you used your power
to prolong your time in a world you do not belong to? You have jeopardized the mortal realm. You are the one causing the Revenants
to proliferate. You are the reason why your little mortal’s life is in danger. Think of this as a favor, our way of saving the mortals from the threat you have brought to them.”
Furious words rise, then fall in Four’s throat. Shock pulses through his soul. He stops struggling, stays motionless, watching
as the Kings leave one by one.
When his anger returns, it is directed at himself. Each moment with Lei Ying was so precious that he used his power again and again, just to be with her a little longer. He went against the ancient tenets. He broke the cardinal rule between the realms.
Why hadn’t he realized what was happening?
The answer is simple: he did not want to. He wanted to be with her.
No matter the cost. No matter the consequences.
“Four!”
A boy’s face appears in one of the throne room’s mirrors. Nikai. He must’ve gotten hold of the mirror shard Four had gifted
Lei Ying for communication.
“The upper ranks of the cultivators gave up Shijie to save their own skins, and the Emperor has ordered her to take her own life in the morning. A sacrifice, he says. Cowards.” Nikai spits. “Shijie’s power isn’t unstable, she isn’t a danger to anyone. They’re doing this to appease the mob—”
“She cannot take her own life!” Four roars. For the first time in his existence, he understands what true fear is.
There is no path to the underworld for the soul of any mortal who ends their own life. No atonement nor chance of reincarnation.
The soul is banished to the Nothing, suffering for eternity. It does not matter if Lei Ying’s death is deemed a sacrifice.
The laws and whims of mortals do not hold up against the Divine.
“Where is she?”
“The Imperial Palace. I’m headed there now with some cultivators I still trust. We’ll do what we can to stop the execution.” Nikai glares. “I don’t know where you are or how this mirror magic works, but you must save her, Four. You promised me—you said you would guard her with your life.”
“I will,” Four vows.
Nikai’s face vanishes and the mirror goes dark.
Violence churns through the courtyard. The sound of scraping metal corrupts the air as a bloody and battered Nikai and a handful
of cultivators make their last stand.
In the commotion, no one notices the figure that appears out of nowhere. The pale young man in dark robes is on his hands
and knees, long silvery-white hair tumbling over his face. He crawls, gasping as if each movement causes him immense pain.
Stay alive. Stay alive—for me.
Breaking his restraints has temporarily impaired him, reducing Four to a shadow of his true self. The bonds of the underworld
pull him back, the silk around his neck burns. Still, he reaches, fingernails digging into the cold, hard ground, urging his
limbs forward.
Until he sees her.
And he starts to weep.
They say each King is born without a heart.
But when Four sees her body lying motionless on the softly fallen snow, he knows it is a lie.
Two figures stood before the boy strung up against the obsidian pillar in the dark cavern.
“He is weak,” said the hunched crone with bottomless pits for eyes. “He may not survive the ordeal.”
The taller figure in a canary-yellow pantsuit raked a hand through their pixie-cut hair. “Give our brother time. He will remember
who he is.”
The crone made a disagreeing sound. “Time is a luxury we do not have, One. The imbalance between the world of the living and the realm of the dead continues. The Nothing has reached yet another Court—the Seventh. Countless souls lost to the gray void, doomed to wander in the darkness for eternity without any hope of reincarnation. Our fortifications are failing, all because of him.”
“We must have faith. There are forces at work that even we do not yet understand,” One said, though there was a hint of doubt
in their voice.
As the pair turned to leave, something caught their attention.
A single tear, barely visible in the dim light, rolling down the boy’s sunken cheek.