Chapter 19 Zizi
Zizi
According to mortals, time heals all wounds. Four knows they are wrong. His memories haunt him incessantly, and time only
strengthens their torment.
Eventually, he is allowed brief visits to the mortal realm again. But his feelings toward humans have changed; he now knows
how cruel they are, how dark their hearts can be.
Through the centuries, the village where he first met Lei Ying grows into a thriving metropolis. But more mortals mean more
souls to attract the Blight, and the Reapers remain busy with their duties. The cultivators have split into two main sects
with different principles: the Exorcist Guild and the underground magic practitioners. Regardless of which group they belong
to, a magic wielder’s place in society balances on a tightrope, just like before.
One night, the First King finds him on the rooftop of a skyscraper, staring down at the bustling city streets.
“You wear your melancholy like a badge of honor. It has been so long—you must let go of things you cannot control. The truth,
however painful, must be accepted.” One touches Four’s arm gently. “Come back to us.”
Anger beats in Four’s chest, and he swipes their hand away. “I am back with all of you, am I not? I am forever trapped in
the underworld. Leave me be when I am here.”
“There was never any possibility of a happy ending between you and the mortal. It is forbidden. Fate has spoken. Whatever
she might have felt for you, it does not carry the weight you bestow it. Whatever you think you feel for her, it cannot be
real. It is not love. Do not delude yourself. You must forget her.”
Losing his composure, Four throws off his jacket and yanks up his sleeve. “You speak of things you do not understand. I will never forget her—I cannot.”
A spark flickers against the exposed skin of his arm, and his love thread surfaces.
One’s eyes are wild with confusion. “This cannot be. Why did you not tell us?”
“And what would you have done if you knew?”
One hangs their head.
“Tell me why it appeared the day I laid eyes on her,” Four says quietly, desperately.
“Immortals are not meant to have love threads. I cannot explain it.”
“Then do not pretend that you understand how I feel. And do not tell me what I shared with her was a lie.” Four clenches his
hands, trembling with fury. With guilt. With despair. “I told her in all the worlds and all lifetimes, our souls would be bound together. I said I would protect her. I promised—and I failed.”
Turning away, he walks to the edge of the roof, a lone shadow against the bright city lights, with solitude as his only companion.
Seven frowned at the shackles around the young man’s bony ankles and wrists. “He’s wasting away. One says his memories have
returned, but why isn’t he waking up?” she asked the frail-looking young lady beside her. “Does he still hate us?”
Though there was no wind in the cavern, Five’s wispy, mink-brown hair fluttered around her like a halo. “He doesn’t hate us,”
she soothed.
“But that’s why he ran away,” Seven whined.
“Perhaps our brother needs more time to heal. It is said that heartache is the worst pain a mortal can experience.”
Seven huffed. “But he isn’t mortal, and he doesn’t have a heart. It doesn’t matter that he lives in a vessel. It doesn’t change
what he is.”
Her stubbornness turned into distress as she pawed at her dress. Once a lovely lilac, the fabric had faded to a full gray.
She held up a hand. Signs of decay trailed from her fingernails to her wrist.
“My defenses are weakening. My kingdom is no longer safe from the Nothing.” Her lower lip trembled. “I’m afraid, Five. What becomes of a King when they lose their Court?”
A quiet strength shimmered in Five’s sapphire eyes, and she pulled her distressed sister into a hug. “The Lady says the mortal
girl can wake him. But we must wait until she seeks the Lady’s help of her own free will and volunteers her sacrifice. Do
not speak of this to the others. The Elder Gods do not know.”
“I’m good with secrets,” Seven whispered back. Her gaze returned to the young man in the obsidian cage.
Wake up, Four. Do not abandon us again.