From Earth to Heaven, From Heaven to Earth (TGCF HuLian)

Chapter 3 As Imagination

The pain is everywhere, it spreads and spreads along his body until he knows nothing else, but he has to keep on his feet, to fight, not for himself, not for the humans, but for his god. Everything he does, everything he is, is for his god, his god who sees the value in human lives even when he does not, his god who wants to save people. And so, like a good servant, he follows his gods will. He saves the people, not just once but again and again as the other ghosts pursue them and he leads the humans to the way out of the mountains.

But it's not enough.

Nothing he does ever is.

And their trapped with the cliff at their backs.

And all he can think of is his god, his god who would not give up, his god who would want him to do this, his god who once said that he was more suited to a saber than a sword.

So he does what he needs to do.

His eye, his horrible cursed loathsome eye. It's surprisingly easy tear it from himself, to sacrifice the worst part of himself in order to do what his god needs him to do.

Then the pain comes.

It's all consuming, blotting out the world and everything in it.

His mind has been a haze of fury and prayer since he reformed, and now under the pain it fractures still more, the whole world blurring and going hazy as his legs give out from under him.

"Your highness, forgive me..."

He's failed his god, in being so weak, so helpless, he's failed his god.

What a useless thing he is.

He doesn't feel the snow beneath him, or the hard ground, strange that.

There's a blurry white figure above him and he tries to make his remaining eye focus on it. When he finally does he lets out a breath he doesn't need, his whole body relaxing.

"Your highness, forgive me...."

Sometimes he's glad that things in his mind aren't as stable as they once were. It's better that way. He's heard his god's voice before, encouraging him, comforting him, chiding him, cursing him, and no matter how angry his god is it's always welcome. Sometimes he even catches glimpses, a flicker out of the corner of his eyes, a graceful hand, the edge of a white robe, but it's never been like this before.

Maybe it's the pain, maybe it's just his mind finally giving way, but whatever it is he's glad. He's probably lying face down in the snow or something like that but he doesn't have it in him to care. Why would he? When what he sees and feels are the safest place in the world, the arms of his god.

"I've got you. You're safe now. I won't let anything hurt you."

The words are distant things, so kind and warm, and he leans into them and into the warm arms that he's imagining all around him.

"Your highness, forgive me...." For being so weak, for being so pathetic, for the way I dream of you.

He knows he should get up, should keep going, keep fighting, but...

The world falls into darkness.

The next bit of time passes in a blur. He's vaguely aware of being lifted, of being carried, of something protecting him from the cold and the weather, maybe a cave? And is that the heat of a fire? And always always the soothing voice and touch of his god.

Is the fire real? Is the cave real? Has his mind been hallucinating in order to force his body to do what it needs in order to hide until he's able to fight again? Or is he still laying face down in the snow with no way to protect himself from the hoards of ghosts he knows will come for him. Maybe even the figure in white, the one he's heard so many rumors about, will come now and he'll be destroyed.

Vaguely, just on the edge of his awareness he can hear the clash of blade on blade and he knows that he should get up and fight, but the pain is so great and his limbs feel so heavy and the world shifts and blurs around him, and the hallucination of his god told him to rest and even if his mind knows that none of this is real his body still refuses to disobey.

"Forgive me, your highness..."

The dark rises all around him and his vision fades to nothing and unconsciousness claims Wu Ming.