A/N: All rights to the original content are reserved by the respective copyright owner.
EDIT: Had to republish the chapter. Some people are not receiving the notification.
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Faith.
Faith was a mantle Jingliu wore with ease. It was her unwavering belief in her abilities—her analytical mind that wove memories into a coherent tapestry, her eyes that observed the nuances of the world, her swordplay that flowed like water, and above all, her immense trust in Y/N—that anchored her.
In the quietude of her room, surrounded by the day's concluding tasks, Jingliu leaned back in her chair, letting her gaze drift to the moonlit sky framed by her window. The moonlight was a constant companion, bathing her and her surroundings in a celestial glow.
"Why is it? Why do you shine on me?" she whispered to the moon, a silent sentinel in the vast expanse of the night. Though she knew it held no answers, there was a part of her, a whisper of intuition, that felt guidance from its silent glow.
Her thoughts, usually so ordered and precise, were becoming frayed at the edges. The change in Y/N's demeanor had not gone unnoticed, its ripple effects touching the calm waters of her own spirit. It was as if his turmoil echoed in her, stirring a storm that threatened her inner peace.
Her affection for Y/N was no secret, at least not to her. Yet, his reactions always seemed to place her feelings within the bounds of friendship. To Jingliu, her feelings transcended such simple confines.
"Why do I hesitate?" she pondered, her heart grappling with emotions like guilt, pride, and perhaps envy. The questions were many, the answers elusive, and the silence of the night offered no counsel.
"I am overthinking this," she muttered to herself, a tired resignation in her voice. Rising from the chair, she allowed herself to fall onto the bed, the day's attire still clinging to her. The weight of her armor felt like the weight of her thoughts—too much to shed in this weary moment.
"I'll face these questions tomorrow," she resolved, letting the comfort of her bed and the promise of sleep wash over her. As sleep claimed her, the moon continued its silent vigil.
---
Amidst a land marred by the ravages of an unseen war, Jingliu awoke to desolation. The pale-haired woman rose, the cracked earth protesting under her weight. Confusion knitted her brows as she sensed the tug of a dream realm, suspecting the Primordial Flame's hand in this.
"Come out, I know you're out there," she called into the silence, her voice a lonely sound in the expanse of ruin.
She waited, expecting the fiery tempest, the flames that could illuminate Xianzhou in their fierce dance. Yet, there was nothing—no heat, no light, no presence. An uneasy stillness enveloped her, punctuated only by the drumming of her heart, warning her of unseen danger.
Compelled by a prickling sense of being watched, she turned, facing the void. The sense of wrongness was palpable, but she stepped forward, drawn by an invisible thread through the sea of encroaching dread.
As she entered the space, it was not fire that greeted her but a cascade of sparkling lights, swirling around her like a galaxy made manifest. The dream shifted, and suddenly she was transported to a familiar sanctuary—the woods of her childhood with Y/N, a serene pond bordered by blue flowers.
"I know of this place," she murmured, touching a flower—a spectral remnant of a home now lost. The pond before her lay still, the moon's reflection a silent guardian over this echo of the past.
Reaching out to the water's surface, Jingliu was abruptly yanked back, her hand clutching the ethereal flower as she landed with a jolt. The scene twisted once more, the serene woods dissolving into the wasteland from whence she came.
Before her, a chilling tableau: a man, sword-pierced, knelt defeated. His helmet concealed his face, but the aura of betrayal was palpable. Opposite him stood a figure—a woman bearing Jingliu's likeness, yet twisted by a darkness that seeped from her red eyes.
"You... you have done this," the doppelganger accused, venom dripping from her words.
"No... no! You are not me!" Jingliu's voice trembled with denial and fear.
With a disdainful click of her tongue, the other Jingliu wrenched the sword from the fallen man, the sound of parting flesh echoing in the silence. Jingliu watched, aghast, her hands covering her mouth in horror.
The mirrored woman charged at her, only to disintegrate into nothingness, her shocked expression imprinted in Jingliu's mind.
From the Abyss, a voice arose, ancient and cosmic, the very essence of creation itself:
"A vision false, this phantasm be;
Awake now from this reverie.
Forsake the dread, these shadows grim,
To cleave the night, thy light must brim."
With the celestial decree, the world began to fade, pulling Jingliu from the depths of the false future woven by unseen threads.
Jingliu's awakening was abrupt, a sharp intake of breath tearing her from the clutches of the nightmare. Her skin was slick with sweat, the sheets beneath her twisted and damp from her restless slumber. As her wide, frantic eyes sought the window, they were met with the gentle light of dawn. Yet, the comfort typically found in the morning's soft embrace eluded her; the terror of the dream clung to her like a second skin, an unwelcome shroud that refused to be shed.
The image of Y/N, stricken and defeated, was etched behind her eyelids, a haunting specter that pulsed in time with her racing heartbeat. The rhythm of her life force, usually so steady and controlled, now seemed to mock her with its rapid cadence.
Gasp... gasp... gasp
Gasp after desperate gasp filled the silence of the room as Jingliu fought to steady her breath, to quell the rising tide of panic. Her hands, usually so steady and sure, trembled as they pressed against her chest, seeking to calm the frantic beating of her heart.
"Please... stop," she pleaded to her own body, her voice a fragile thread of sound barely escaping her lips. The echo of her whispered entreaty seemed to mock her, resonating with the loneliness of her struggle.
Again, the word fell from her lips, a silent cry for respite, "Please..." But the solace she sought remained just out of reach, the afterimages of the dream's phantoms dancing cruelly at the periphery of her consciousness.
As the minutes ticked by, Jingliu's breaths gradually became less erratic, her grip on reality strengthening as the remnants of the nightmare receded. Yet the emotional aftershocks left her feeling vulnerable, a rarity for one who was often a bastion of strength and resolve. The day awaited her, but in this moment, she could not face the world outside, not until she reclaimed the peace that the dream had so ruthlessly stolen.
---
The weight of the nightmare lingered on Jingliu like a shadow, a dark cloak woven from threads of despair and confusion. "That is not me," she whispered repeatedly, her words a mantra meant to banish the unwelcome specter that had invaded her dreams. Yet, the specter was persistent, its tendrils wrapped tightly around her consciousness.
The sanctuary of her home, once a place of solace and contemplation, had transformed into a prison of her own making. The outside world beckoned, yet she found herself unable to step beyond the threshold, paralyzed by the haunting images that clung to her memory with a tenacious grip.
She considered reaching out to Y/N, the one person who had always understood her, who had stood by her as an unwavering pillar of support. But the thought of disturbing his peace, of possibly burdening him with her turmoil, was something she loathed to do. Jingliu respected his time, his need for solitude, and she knew all too well the strength he possessed to overcome adversity with but a sliver of support.
As for herself, Jingliu often felt the need to bottle up her emotions, to keep them locked away from the world. She had always been the one to offer support, not seek it. Yet, now, faced with a despair that threatened to engulf her, she realized that her usual approach was not enough.
"No! If Y/N can overcome it, then so can I," she declared, her resolve hardening. She needed to find a new method, to reach out to someone who might understand, who could help her navigate the stormy seas of her own vulnerability.
With a deep breath, Jingliu summoned the courage to take action. She retrieved her communication gadget, a device that had often connected her to allies and friends across distances. This time, she would use it to call upon someone who could offer a different perspective, someone who might share her experience of feeling adrift.
After a moment of hesitation, her fingers danced across the device, initiating a call to a certain foxian, a being whose wisdom and understanding she had come to value. It was time to talk about her helplessness, to seek counsel, and to find the strength to reclaim the part of herself that the nightmare had so cruelly distorted.
---
Baiheng's arrival was as timely as it was urgent. Jingliu, typically the embodiment of composure, had reached out for aid, her voice conveying an unsettling disquiet that Baiheng could neither ignore nor delay responding to. The door clicked open, and Baiheng stepped into the house that was familiar, yet under the current circumstances, seemed cast in a strange, chilling pall.
"Jingliu? I'm inside!"
Ascending the stairs, Baiheng's keen senses picked up the subtle shift in the atmosphere. The air carried a bite, a coldness that was out of place in the home of her warm-hearted friend. Ice particles danced in the air like fine dust caught in a sunbeam, and the walls bore the spiderweb traces of frost that seemed to emanate from Jingliu's room.
With a sense of urgency driving her forward, Baiheng didn't bother with niceties. She kicked the door open, revealing a room transformed into a wintry domain. Scrolls and books were ensnared in ice, a visual testament to the inner storm that raged within Jingliu.
There, at the eye of this frigid tempest, sat Jingliu, a posture of defeat about her as she muttered incomprehensibly, hands entwined in her hair as if trying to contain the chaos within her mind. The scene mirrored a past crisis, one where Y/N's absence had left Jingliu vulnerable to panic's cruel embrace. But this, Baiheng realized, was far worse.
"Jingliu!"
With resolve, Baiheng reached out to Jingliu, only to retract her hand as frostbite nipped at her flesh. The severity of Jingliu's loss of control dawned on her, prompting her to take immediate action. Recalling the past incident, she delivered a sharp slap, a painful jolt to tether Jingliu back to reality.
Jingliu's reaction was instant, her hand drifting to her cheek, the sting of the slap a grounding sensation amidst the numbness. As awareness returned, her gaze swept across the icy prison her room had become. "Haaa... I lost control. How pathetic..." she chastised herself, the self-reproach heavy in her tone.
Her eyes then found Baiheng, who stood nursing her frostbitten hand. "Baiheng? You're here, right?" Jingliu's voice was tinged with uncertainty, the lines between dream and reality still blurred in her reeling mind.
"Jingliu! You're back!" Baiheng's relief was palpable, a bright note in the somber room. Yet, as she moved to embrace Jingliu, a defensive surge of ice halted her, forcing her to step back.
The shock registered on Jingliu's face as she saw the inadvertent harm she had caused. "I- I didn't mean to!"
Baiheng, ever the stalwart friend, shrugged off the ice with a punch, dismissing the danger with humor. "Bah! It's alright, I'm here for you," she reassured, her smile unsteady but her resolve firm.
Encouraged by Baiheng's unwavering support, Jingliu inhaled deeply, focusing inward. The ice that had claimed her room began to retreat, surrendering to the warmth that slowly returned. The sounds of cracking ice grew fainter, a symphony of release as the cold's grip loosened.
Baiheng, eyes wide with amazement, whistled. "Wow, when did you have this power? I don't remember you having control over... that."
She crossed the room to fling open the window, inviting the fresh air to sweep away the last vestiges of Jingliu's icy turmoil. The room breathed easier, a tangible sense of calm settling in.
Jingliu's inner storm had abated somewhat, but the remnants of her despair lingered. Baiheng, sensing her friend's continued distress, sat at the edge of the bed, a beacon of hope in the dawn's gentle light.
"Don't worry, this foxian will save your day! How shall I help you?" Baiheng asked, her voice a promise, a vow to aid Jingliu in navigating the treacherous waters of her emotions.
---
Jingliu sat in the aftermath of her turmoil, the room now void of the ice that had once encased it, reflecting the gradual thawing of her emotions. Baiheng, ever the attentive friend, returned to the room bearing the simple comforts of water and tea, a mundane offering that held within it the promise of solace.
"Do you want me to cool the water?" Jingliu offered, her voice a soft echo of her usual strength.
"Yes, please!" Baiheng replied with an enthusiasm that seemed to slice through the heavy air, a reminder of life's enduring vibrancy.
With a focus that belied her recent distress, Jingliu commanded the temperature to drop, chilling the water to a refreshing coolness. Baiheng's delight was palpable as she guzzled the water, the simple act a balm to Jingliu's frayed nerves, if only momentarily.
Jingliu watched, a half-formed deadpan expression on her face as Baiheng momentarily forgot the line between guest and host. "Ayyy! Sorry! I forgot this isn't my home..."
The swordswoman's soft smile, a fleeting harbinger of her returning peace, did not go unnoticed by Baiheng, who promptly turned serious and poured tea for them both. "Alright. I'll be straight with you. What's going on?"
Jingliu hesitated, her lips sealed as if the very words she needed to say were barricaded behind them. Baiheng, sensing the difficulty, took the lead. "We can start from the beginning. When did these feelings start?"
Grateful for the opening, Jingliu began to recount her experiences, starting from a mission gone awry, the physical sensations of disgust and fear as palpable in her retelling as they had been in reality.
Baiheng, familiar with the event, gently steered Jingliu away from reliving the ordeal, "We can skip that. What else?"
Jingliu's thoughts turned inward, recalling the helplessness she felt during Y/N's hospitalization, the self-doubt that had crept in alongside her concern for him. "If I were stronger, could I have prevented it all?"
The foxian intervened as Jingliu's questions spiraled, guiding her to stillness. "Calm down. Deep breaths."
Jingliu complied, the ritual of breath bringing her a semblance of calm. "Drink your tea, then we'll continue," Baiheng instructed, her voice a gentle command.
Sipping the tea, Jingliu felt a little of the tension dissolve. "Better?" Baiheng asked, and Jingliu's affirmative hum was small but significant.
"Now, about this notion of needing to be stronger..." Baiheng began, her tone shifting. She reminded Jingliu of her unparalleled strength, how her efforts alongside Y/N had been pivotal to Xianzhou's survival. "Stop undermining your achievements!"
Jingliu struggled to accept the reassurance, her sense of responsibility overwhelming. "But I think if I were stronger, no one would get hurt..."
Baiheng's response was sharp, a necessary cut to sever Jingliu's spiraling thoughts. "Perfection is unattainable! Even the Aeons, as mighty as they are, aren't invulnerable."
Though they were unaware of the Aeons' scrutiny and their prideful indignation at being drawn into the conversation, the comparison served its purpose. Jingliu pondered Baiheng's words, considering the impossibility of the perfection she chased.
Jingliu sat in contemplative silence, the soft chirping of birds and the distant hum of the bustling streets filtering through the window. Her mind echoed with Baiheng's words, a gentle nudge towards acceptance and letting go of the unattainable perfection she had long sought. "Baiheng is right... perhaps it's time to let go of this pursuit of perfection," she thought, her resolve strengthening.
However, another wave of uncertainty washed over her, a lingering dissatisfaction with her own attitude. Turning towards Baiheng, Jingliu voiced her inner conflict. "I understand now, but I can't be like Y/N. He finds joy in the simplest of things, makes friends effortlessly. I... I just can't do that."
Baiheng, surprised by the sudden shift in the conversation to Y/N, raised an eyebrow. She realized that Jingliu's concerns ran deeper than just her strength. It was her care for Y/N, the fear of losing him that truly troubled her.
Baiheng smiled reassuringly, choosing her words with care. "Jingliu... you don't need to be like Y/N. You both are different, and that's okay. Your unique self brings him happiness, just as his does for you. Isn't your combined strength, as you are, enough?"
A warmth enveloped Jingliu, Baiheng's words illuminating a path she hadn't seen before. "This... ah, I see..." she mused, a realization dawning within her.
Slowly, a small but genuine smile spread across her face, the sunlight streaming through the window casting a soft glow on her. Baiheng, taken aback by the rare display of unguarded joy, muttered to herself, "So this is what Y/N always sees in her. I'm a bit jealous of their bond."
Shaking off her thoughts, Baiheng turned back to Jingliu. "Well, I assume you're feeling better now?"
Jingliu nodded, standing up with a newfound lightness. "Thank you, Baiheng, for helping me through this."
Baiheng chuckled, a sound full of warmth and affection. "Hehe~ No worries at all. What are friends for?" She wrapped her arms around Jingliu's shoulders, her laughter filling the room.
Jingliu, encouraged by Baiheng's infectious laughter, joined in, her own laughter softer but no less sincere. The sound of their shared mirth resonated throughout the house, leaving passersby outside to wonder at the source of such joy.
End of Chapter
A/N: Hello. I hope that you all enjoy Y/N and Jingliu's path of self-realization from guilt and other oddities with their feelings as part of their character development.
The next chapter will be the last of Genesis Arc, showcasing their fight in the Sword Champion Ceremony. That is all, thank you.