The Storyteller

The Boy Who Could Not Cry

Bai Qian was back from her nightly excursion to collect the supplies that Zhe Yan would have brought with him, though rather than lie down and sleep as she had done every other night, this time she moved to sit down on Mo Yuans pallet before taking his hand into hers.  Though rather than look down at the eyes that were merely closed having waited for her return for almost two hours, Mo Yuan said nothing as she sat quietly beside him lost in thought.

Zhe Yan hadn't really said much to her about what was happening outside the barrier other than the worlds leaders wanted the mist gone so that the trading route could be reopened which only had her wondering why they would battle over it in the first place, only Di Jun informed her that the winner of the battle would have full control over it which was why they were there to ensure they claimed it for the Celestial Heavens as well as the world leaders in order to keep them onside.

Apparently Qing Cang had survived the battle and was rallying his men for another round even though he had been severely weakened, but the all knew that because of his failed attempt to destroy as many as he could with his mist, he would not be sitting back to allow them to just take it.  Though he did not think anything would happen within the next few weeks as Qing Cang had lost far too many soldiers and being weak, it would take him some time to gather his armies again.

And that would have been fine with her, only Zhe Yan had suggested that she open her own secret armies up to the world, because when Qing Cang came back again, it would be all or nothing this time.  He might be severely injured and his men scattered, but the Celestials also lost a vast number of soldiers, over three quarters so another war, which Qing Cang would absolutely call, knowing they were weak, would be devastating.

And according to Zhe Yan, her father was seriously considering it, seeing as she was nowhere to be found and assumed dead.  Her fathers heart was broken and the only way he could possibly find some peace, would be to unleash Qing Qiu on the darklands, the first time in their history that they would see war, and all because Qing Cang had killed their Queen.

And this was what was feeding the tears.  Her father was the most gentlest and kindest man ever to walk her world, regardless of his past.  In her world and in her eyes, there had never been a more peaceful and serene man than him, so to learn that his heart was now fouled with the desire to unleash hell on the darklands, turned her insides out in agony that such hate even existed in his heart. 

Now sitting beside yet another wounded soldier, her heart felt heavy and the irritation at not being able to do anything until the barrier lowered, had the tears burning her lids as she struggled to keep calm for this mans sake.  The last thing she wanted to do was wake him, because then she would have to talk to him, and that was beyond her abilities at that moment.

And as much as she wanted to ease her fathers fears that he had not lost her, the thought of letting this man go, only intensified the irritation she was feeling.  She felt so torn, because the bond they had made was so strong, that she knew it would be the most difficult farewell which was upon them, but she knew she had to if she was to either prevent her father from unleashing her army that had remained hidden for centuries or lead them onto the battlefield herself.

"What's the matter Guishi Yuan...." that soft voice asked with a light squeeze on her hand.

Mo Yuan could feel the anguish pouring off her.  He also didn't need to be sighted to know that she was crying either.

Shaking her head lightly, she didn't care that he couldn't see her, but the way he pulled her down beside him so he could embrace her, was enough to release the sob she had been holding in.  His arms felt familiar and safe as they had always done, only lying down with him on his bed and in his arms, made that familiarity that much more intimate that for a moment she froze, unsure of what it was he was offering, of even if he was offering anything, because she now felt confused.