Chronicle of Burden

Chapter 12

The Sage was the first to emerge out from the cave, Kallen was nowhere to be seen. Sakura busied herself with meditation while the Captain had to find some other means to pass the time.
Having little to nothing to do, the Captain decided to explore the Sage's temple.
It was a very scenic and serene place, everywhere he'd look he'd see a well-tended flowerbed, a decorative stone statue about his height here and there without a hint of moss or dirt on it. Someone had been investing a lot of time to tend to this place and maintain it in pristine condition.
The Captain does a lap around the yard and eventually wandered in the back of the temple, the same one where Sakura meditated in front of an incense burner; he laid eyes on a full bloom peach tree, its roots entangled the edge of a cliff overlooking the mist-shrouded valley below.
The Captain sits down in the shade of the tree, finding a comfortable spot between its roots, and leans his back against its trunk. The air smells sweet with a faint hint of peaches even if the tree hasn't yet born fruit. He gazes out into the distance and loses himself in thought for a while, random questions pop in and out of his head, fading away just as quickly as they formed. He was unsure what he should do if he should try and speak with the Sage about a way to re-enter the Sea and try to find another world that is like his own. Kallen claimed that there is little the Sage didn't know, that she was an enlightened and wise person that could help anyone. Then there was the scribbling scratched into the surface of his old notebook he halfway filled with unfinished sketches and amateurish-level drawings. His spirit sinks as he recalls his condition, even he hasn't checked his wound for the last few days he could tell it was getting worse. With no more serum doses left, there was no way to contain the corruption in his body, and the fact that he willingly exposed himself to a massive dose of Honkai radiation while battling the Behemoth sped up his deteriorating health.
There's a tightness in the Captain's chest, he feels constricted and for a moment he thinks his chest would get crushed under the weight of an invisible burden. He looks at his bandaged shoulder while placing his left arm over the bandages trying to see if his senses haven't dulled out for good. He hardly feels anything even as he tries to pinch himself.

Captain: ... What am I even doing here?

???: It is not a question of "what". I believe it is more a "when".

Startled by the unknown voice, the Captain sits up straight and turns his attention towards the origin. Jingwei floats into view, descending from one of the peach tree's branches. She smooths out her hair with a flourish of her right hand, knocking off a few stray flower petals then says:

Jingwei: We all wander, our path unclear and uncertain. But we all have an objective, and that gives us ambition. In turn, ambition pushes us forward. So I say that you have yet to reach your objective.

From her left oversized sleeve, Jingwei hands the Captain a cup of tea identical to the one he had earlier. As soon as the Captain holds the cup, Jingwei floats away but stops and turns to say:

Jingwei: Your objective was to see my Master. Why do you avoid speaking with her if you have questions? Be more active, I say.

With that said, Jingwei leaves the Captain alone with his thoughts under the cover of the peach tree.
The Captain mulls over what Jingwei said to him. She wasn't entirely wrong about him speaking up and finding out if the Sage could help him or not. But he was afraid the Sage would have nothing to offer him. No solution. No answer except "I'm sorry, but I can't help you" consigning him to meet a cruel end in an unfamiliar, fleeting, world.
The Captain bounces between going to speak with the Sage then immediately discouraging himself. He continues to do this a few times until he empties his cup of tea. With nothing to drink, the Captain then begins to pace around the peach tree. After twelve laps around it, the Captain comes to a halt when he accidentally kicks the cup. The hit wasn't strong enough to shatter it, but it was sufficient to send it bouncing off. The cup bounces off one of the peach tree's roots and threatens to roll off the edge of the cliff, fortunately, the Captain manages to grab it before it could fall off the edge.
Now that the sound of his steps subsided and his attention span returned to its original state, the Captain hears something coming from the temple yard. Drawn by his curiosity, the Captain decides to investigate the source, cup in hand.
After rounding a corner, the Captain sees an unexpected event. In the front yard, over the stone-carved ying-yang symbol, Sakura exercised her strikes. The odd sound was from the twin bamboo sticks she was swinging around. The hollow segment at the ends made a whistling sound each time she'd swing them around.
She flowed freely, wielding both swords at the same time in a graceful and disciplined fashion. Each strike was measured, fast and precise. Her moves were complemented by minor acrobatic feats that would have successfully dodged incoming blows or evaded powerful strikes too strong to block or parry. Judging by the way she moved, it could be that Sakura was imagining herself fighting off multiple enemies that attacked her from all sides. Enticed by this display of skill, the Captain set the cup on the edge of a wooden stair and quietly watched Sakura.
This performance lasted for about ten minutes at best before Jingwei arrived and offered Sakura a choice of refreshments on a sizable tray that seemed unrealistic for someone so small and fragile to carry around. The tray had a cup of tea, a few square-shaped rice crackers, and an empty cup next to a small earthen jug with fresh spring water. Sakura sets down the twin bamboo sticks then offers a soft smile and her thanks to Jingwei for her thoughtfulness.
Jingwei flies away and Sakura places the tray on the ground. She kneels in front of it and begins to pour herself a cup of water. She takes a single shallow drink and lets out a soft sigh.