Transmigrating Narcissus

2.08 - Desultoriness

"The faintest ink is more powerful than the strongest memory." - Chinese proverb

Chasm, the creeping darkness that threatens to pull away my vision. It tugs on my mind to return. Return, where? A reality where I am from or farther into a game where I have gone?

Go back to your world. You do not belong here.

Blurry figures are in a room smelling of disinfectant. A woman's voice cries out, the words muffled. Mom, is that you? White sheets suffocate my body. The heart monitor's incessant beeping increases in tempo. Silence. Chasm, I'm back in the inescapable pit.

Summer, it's summer. When did winter and spring pass? I'm lying on a garden bench with Casper recalling tales of our adventures. His voice is hoarse and imploring, his cadence dilapidated. The expansive sky lit up by the sun's rays look down on us, but I am unable to feel the beauty. The throbbing pain in my mind obscures the otherwise picturesque moment. Blades of grass dig into my back and legs with their thin sharpness.

Blotches of ink stain my vision, the watery pigment running through the bright colors, swirling into an ever-darkening mass with each drop. Away, I'm drifting away. No, stay, I tell myself.

I fight to dilute the murkiness, but it only spreads more. I'm trudging through sludge. It spreads to my body, numbing my senses. Where am I? When am I? How am I? The confusion and dread of being left in the dark, unable to have control over myself.

A radiance pierces through the void, yanking me forth. A halo of light surrounds a female figure. It's Ehuang. Tendrils of water flow around her, the clear droplets from the Xiang River calling to me.

Summer is when she's the strongest. She must have saved me from the abyss. My eyes distort her features, and I feel my mind swaying, the abyss trying to pull me back. I cannot feel my powers as Nuying. Poison, that must be it.

Thank you, I want to say, but my mouth can't form the words. She smiles. My senses slowly return. I can make out the sound of flowing water behind me and narcissi brushing against my bare feet.

Ehuang's face is still blurred. Her hands strike like a viper, and I slam into harsh cold water. My hands reach out for balance, grasping only air. Hatred zings through me, and I wish her a delightful, painful death.

Water envelopes me in its familiar embrace, but there is no affection. It's not under my control, and it drags me further down its depths. It fills my lungs, and the ink once again sprawls into my vision, running through me. Paint and water mix together. Bloody tints of anger are added in the swirl. I choke on the acidic viscosity.

Burning pain is hissing through my blood, but it is numbed by the spreading veins of oblivion. I try clawing to the surface, but I am pulled, pulled further away. Losing, losing consciousness and feeling, I welcome this refuge. My heartbeat slows to welcome the bliss.

My vision rocks back and forth between the dark and light, but each time the stretch of darkness is longer, the fall deeper. Stuck in limbo, I accept the losing battle. I'm a ship in a stormy, turbulent sea at the mercy of others - powerless. Bobbing up and down, left and right, to the point where direction becomes meaningless. It's a black hole of ink, its draw inescapable.

My will is a sand dune, high to behold and high to crumble. I'm disintegrating to nothing. I'm alone. I search for the eye of the storm, the center of the whirling darkness where there will be peace and sanity. Yes, fight onwards. Crystal dewdrops of clarity diffuse the confusion, its inkiness becoming clear.

A heavy wave of water knocks into me, and I barely register a new sensation around me. My head is pressed against something warm, a something in this nothing. The protective fiery feathers shield me from the freezing water but using my remaining strength, I push them away. Wings are meant to soar. I can't drag my phoenix cape down with me. I undo the clasp and let it fly free. The ink consumes me once more. I'm a lost cause. I'm lost.

The delusion is a disruption. The confusion is a corruption. My mind is filled with interruptions.

Desultory fragments of a lost mind are broken glass. Pieces of the mosaic are missing, disconnected, incapable of being whole. How can I be complete when the darkness has no end? When can I go back to the known?

I cannot find reality without perspicuity. The chasm is not a return. It is where I am kept, trapped. Hope is the key. With hope, I will be free. Unlock the cage and climb the harsh walls of oblivion, for I cannot stay in the nothing's bliss.

My soul is separated from Nuying's trapped body, and the glowing blue logo for TTI appears in front of me.

I feel as if I have awoken from a long dream, but I do not remember anything. I was talking with Jin, but what happened afterward? I shake off the grogginess. It does not matter as I have already left the second arc and completed my main mission.

——
A/N
What are your opinions on Sacred Lily (the second arc)?

I was inspired by Qu Yuan's story as well as Chinese artworks and poems on the Xiang River goddesses and narcissi. There was a point where I wanted to bring Qu Yuan in with Alex as Chu Yang (sun enters), but I decided against it in the end.