Three Lives, Three Worlds: Jasmine's Fate [Hiatus]

Prologue

"Zhi'er..."

Turning, turning,

Restless, boundless, infinite,

His words,

Her reality,

Their life,

Murmured intonation of the heart,

Drifting upon the starlit sky,

Immersed, suffocated, the idle dreams,

Graceful moments of fallen strife,

Plunging, crashing,

Everlasting, the spirit wept,

Frozen spirit she remained,

Drowning...beneath the endless depth

Silent, pure, the heart abstained,

Spinning, the silk wheel, never ceasing to spin, to spin

Or so she thought...until...until...

"Zhi'er..."

Her fingers grasped, squeezing the frail fabric. Her eyes moved lightly, half open, half closed. Her breath held, rapt with attention within the mist of dreamlike haze. Nothing but the cold breeze rustling above through the whistling edges of bamboo leaves in the thousand-year-old forest.

Could it be a dream?

How could that be? Was it possible?

Eyes softly opened, blinking, once, twice, skimming over the sparkling starlight, to the bright glowing moon of a winter night. Hope...clinging, clung, half her lifetime spent...

Was it a dream?

It couldn't just be a sweet reverie. It was not. She knew it was not. The tone, timbre was different. It was deeper, yet it was the same. Words...whispered, spoken. The same breath they held.

"Zhi'er.."

There it was...it couldn't be....how could it be?

She had dreamed, oh, she had dreamed for so long. The countless cold nights, alone, with no soul in sight, when her mind drifted away, to the realm of subconsciousness. Lucid dreams which granted her wishes. To gaze upon a vision of him, his face...his voice. The soft lingering touch that was no more, yet the tingling sensation he left behind remained, ingrained into her flesh. Whispering words of tantalizing softness, lightening her burdened spirit; drawing her away from the depths of the wrenching hell of an existence.

Words she longed to hear...to capture...had treasured.

How long had it been? Days...months...years? 30,000 years?

But it was more. She had waited much more than uncounted rising moons. She had waited, waited for the eternal passing of time to end, foolish that she was. Immortality...the curse of longevity...existence of endless suffering, which could crumble even a soulless heart.

Spiritless, she rose, ignoring the freshly bandaged injuries on her shoulders, the ones he had bound moments before. Blindly, her hands reached for the crow carved dagger still strapped to her outer garments strewn beside them. Straddling the sleeping man beneath, swiftly, with the ease of an assassin, she glided her dagger over his form until the shiny edge of the blade held against his neck. The action was familiar, but due to the harsh passing of time, felt almost foreign to the touch. Yet...her heart couldn't stop beating, hammering, from the wave of anticipation. Adrenaline rushed through her feverish veins, rattling her nerves as she gazed closer upon the one who had stolen her soul, her dreams...her life.