286: The Long Wait (Bai Ye's Memory)

The Long Wait (Bai Ye's Memory)

By the time Bai Ye came to, he didn't know how much time had passed. His robe was soaked in blood, and some of the stains on the floor had already dried, turning into a black crust at his feet.1

He felt lightheaded, but he didn't care. Hastily, he summoned the next spell to check his progress. A wisp of dark smoke rose from Twin Stars as he chanted the words, a sign of the strength of souls trapped within. The old master had told him that the smoke should lighten in color over time. When it turned from black to white, it would mean that its need for those souls had been completely replaced by heart's blood, and that the sword spirit's demonic power had also been thoroughly cleansed.

Bai Ye etched the sight into his mind, feeling disappointed that he had to wait another month to know the effectiveness of this ritual. But he had no other choice than to wait. Sighing in resignation, he slowly pulled the blade out of his body, grunting again as the numbed pain resharpened at the motion.

He had no complaints though. He would gladly take this as his punishment. He deserved it, because it was his mistake that cost her life. The only thing he could wish for now was that the legends were real, and that the ritual could really achieve what it claimed.

~ ~

Time moved so slowly since then that it almost crawled to a stop. Bai Ye didn't know how he managed to drag his feet through the days as he tended to the injured disciples and helped repair the damage done to the halls, all the while not quite aware of what he was doing. The only thing on his mind was the countdown to the next new moon, and the only thing that gave him the energy to keep moving was the lightening smoke at the end of the ritual every month.

At least it was working—he thanked the heavens every day for the mercy that he didn't think he deserved. He treated each ritual as the holiest rite of his life, not daring to make the slightest mistake or miss the smallest sigh of change. The pain had become inconsequential at that point, so inconsequential that he stopped feeling it after a mere few months. His attention was fully on Twin Stars every time, making sure that he wouldn't let his last chance slip through his fingers just like before.

Years passed in tedious repetitions. At some point, Chu Yang made him take in a disciple—or guide someone temporarily, he said. Bai Ye didn't really know the difference, and he didn't really care. He acquiesced for whoever that girl was to stay at his hall, as long as she didn't interrupt his daily routine or set foot in the rooms that used to belong to the sword spirit. He barely even remembered her existence most of the time. It wasn't until some months or years later that the girl started behaving weirdly around him that he realized it was a terrible mistake. He found some excuse to send her back to Chu Yang's hall, and he swore to never let another disciple into his hall ever again.

This was his home with the sword spirit. It welcomed no one else.

Though as the days went by, he started finding this hall insufficient for keeping her memorial. Her rooms were too empty, as she didn't leave any personal belongings after her. The garden was too arid after the demonic power broke the yin-yang balance of the soil, and no plants could grow healthily anymore. He missed her … but there was nothing here to remember her by. Only painful reminders that she had forever moved on from his life.

Bai Ye didn't like it that way. As much as he knew he deserved it, the selfish part of him still wanted the luxury of feeling her around him. So he staged an accident and burned down his hall. Then he built a new one, on the side peak where she found that cave chamber years ago. He sealed the chamber behind a secret entrance, and he built a new garden around it, covering the path to it with bushes and her favorite flowers. He visited it from time to time, running his fingers down the carved wall, letting the faint trace of power she left there pulse against his fingertip. It was the only moment when he could lie to himself and imagine that she was still alive.

He built a sword vault as well, with a hidden room just for Twin Stars. On the days that weren't the new moon, he would lock the swords behind the safe doors, though he would stop by every morning to see her. He didn't know if she'd be offended by his presence, so he tried not to talk to her most of the time, but he couldn't help at least gazing at the blades for hours, remembering all the bright and happy days they once shared together.

The days that were gone forever … that might never, ever return, even if he could bring her back.

As the telltale smoke kept growing lighter in color, he kept imagining what it'd be like when it finally turned white. He would be able to bring her back … But what would happen then? She said she'd never forgive him. Did that mean she'd want to take his life in return? Or did that mean she'd no longer remember him … And they'd become nothing but strangers to each other in her next life?

Bai Ye preferred the former. He'd rather she hate him than not remember him at all.

A hundred years passed. The disciples from that day, who no longer had a chance to reach ascension after their injuries, slowly reached the end of their lives. Freed from the only responsibility he tried to fulfill, Bai Ye started spending more time alone in his hall, indulging himself with memories of her. Then another hundred years passed. Then another fifty years.

One day, that smoke from Twin Stars finally turned white.

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