The Fate of my Soul.

Part 1

"Mo Yuan.  You're finally awake." A voice suddenly broke the silence as I slowly open my eyes.  The light is too bright and I can't see clearly, I am weak and can barely move, but I try to orientate myself.  

This place.  It seems familiar.  Is this a meditation cave?   The voice said I was finally awake.  Have I been asleep? I try to focus on the voice, but the light is too bright, and my head hurts, so I close my eyes again.

 "Where am I?" I ask aloud, though more to myself as I try to organise some kind of rational thought as to my whereabouts and the identity of the voice that has once again moved closer to me.   The pain in my throat hurts, and my voice sounds like its coming from far away.

The voice is touching my head so I open my eyes and look up.  "Mo Yuan, this is Kunlun Mountain, you have been gone 70,000 years.  Welcome back!"  He says to me. 

 I know him, but I can't remember his name and going by the way he is looking at me, he seems to be someone  who knows me well.  It's in the way he smiles at me, how he looks at me.  His face is kindly, youthful and he has the most expressive eyes, though he seems to be much older than he looks.  Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I can feel a bond with him, but it hurts my head when I try to focus too much, so I stop thinking.

I swallow several times to create moisture in my mouth and throat as i try to speak again, but it hurts to speak.  "Who are you?" I ask him, but my voice, sounds strange, somewhat distant.   Did he say I was gone 70,000 years?  Gone where?

"Shifu?" another voice, another familiar voice.  Opening my eyes once more, I turn at the voice and find myself looking straight into the most prettiest eyes I have ever seen, the eyes of a young boy.   His features are very fair to look upon, and his petite frame is almost feminine.  He called me Shifu.  Is he my disciple?   Am I his Master?  Master of what?

He looks familiar too, someone I should know, but my head is throbbing and the light is too bright so I squeeze them shut again to block it out.   The first voice rises and moves  away and the room darkens, instantly taking the brightness from behind my closed lids.  

Opening my eyes once more I look back at the man as he walks towards me with a deep frown etched across his brow.  Turning my head, I focus again on the boy who is also frowning at me.  Both of them are people I can almost remember.  Almost.

There is more touching, as the voice continues to examine me, before sitting again.  "Don't speak Mo Yuan.  For now just listen and once I am done, I will answer any questions you may have, alright?"

As he's talking to me, I try to imagine in my mind the events he is describing.  A war was fought between the Higher Immortals and the Ghost Clan,  and in order to win it, I had to seal someone called Qing Cang into a powerful weapon of mass destruction, that I apparently created.  To accomplish this amazing feat that sounded so far fetched,  I sacrificed my soul to save our world.  And apparently this all happened 70,000 years ago.

My whole body aches, my throat and mouth are dry and his voice sounds distorted and rambling.  I don't feel at all like a hero should feel.  I am weak, in immense pain, and so tired.

I lift my hand to stop him.  I just want quiet. I just want peace from the pain.  But I need an answer to one question.  "Who are you?"

Without answering my question, and still with the frown on his face, he looks deeply into my eyes, while his own are etched in concern.  "What do you remember Mo Yuan?"

Mo Yuan.  My Name.  That much I do remember.  I am the son of The Heavenly Father who returned to the Chaotic Flame of Nothing.  He said this is Kunlun Mountain, and I also remember this place was led by my father, who was the Master of a school for highly intelligent and gifted Immortals whose fates were preordained for greatness, myself being one of them.  Though what that is, I can't remember.