***
Yao Yao blinked—or thought she did. The weight crushing her chest was gone. She felt light, as if her body had slipped away and she was drifting between sleep and waking. Slowly, her eyes opened.
A garden stretched before her, vast and quiet.
The air carried the faint sweetness of flowers, touched by the clean scent of running water. Grass spread across the ground in soft waves, sprinkled with blooms of pale color. Butterflies drifted from one patch to the next, their wings tilting in the still air. Above it all, the sky stretched wide, cloudless from one end to the other.
Her ears caught the faint rush of water. She turned, eyes following the sound until she found a stream winding through the grass, breaking into slender branches that split across the garden. Goldfish swam in the shallows, their scales flashing faint rainbows whenever the light touched them. Sparks zipped with the current, quick but bright like fireflies caught in the flow.
Where… is this?
She lifted her head—and froze.
A woman stood across the stream.
Pale hair that shone faintly gold, amber eyes staring into the distance. Beautiful, almost unreal against the calm of the garden, but that beauty was drowned in sorrow. Her gaze was hollow, her face heavy, as if she looked across everything but saw nothing.
Something in Yao Yao's chest tightened. There was a strange familiarity, though she was certain they had never met.
Then, the goldfish rose from the water. One by one they slipped free, droplets clinging to their fins, shining like stars as they drifted upward. They circled the woman in silence. She did not react, and so the fish pressed closer, scattering faint rainbows around her as if trying to ease her grief.
At last she looked up, her eyes following the goldfish for a brief moment before she reached out a trembling hand. Her fingers brushed their fins gently, and the droplets that slipped free broke into tiny arcs of color.
Then she began to hum, a tender melody carrying through the garden like a lullaby.
Caught by the beauty of it all, Yao Yao leaned forward without realizing, as if aching to step closer to the woman. But when she looked down, her feet would not move. It was as though they had rooted into the ground, leaving her no choice but to stand and watch.
The woman kept humming for a moment, her eyes drifting into the distance, a faint smile surfacing as if the melody had stirred a memory.
But the moment of peace lasted only a breath before her hand trembled. Her brow drew tight, and in the next instant she clutched her chest and fell forward.
The tender melody shattered into a cry of pain, tearing through the garden's stillness. The fish scattered at once, splashing back into the stream, their glow vanishing the moment they touched the water.
Dark stains spread across her skin. Smoke poured from her body, thick and heavy like liquid, curling into the air. Wherever it touched, the grass withered to ash. Her cries cut sharp through the garden as the mist spread wider, swelling until it seemed ready to swallow her whole.
A sharp squeeze gripped Yao Yao's chest, a chill spreading down her body. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, louder even than the woman's cries. She pressed a hand against herself, startled by the weight bearing down—as if something was reaching for her too, not from across the stream but from within.
Through the haze of black, she caught sight of a figure.
Her eyes widened. It was him—the rude man who had answered her call, the one who hurled fire like it was nothing.
Why was he here? What was this place? Yao Yao tried to lift her feet, but they refused to move. She looked up and opened her mouth to shout, yet no sound came. Neither of them seemed to notice her at all.
For a long moment, he only watched. The woman had collapsed into a tight ball on the ground, tears streaking her face as her cries broke into screams and the stains across her skin spread. The mist swelled outward, curling as it reached for him—yet the moment it drew close, it recoiled, twisting away as if afraid of his presence, or held back by some unseen barrier.
The man's gaze followed the mist back to the woman, and he began to walk toward her. When he reached her side, he lowered himself to a kneel and spoke—but no sound reached Yao Yao. The words were swallowed by the heavy mist, as if they were never meant for her ears.
As he spoke, he slowly raised a hand. The black mist twisted and shifted, drawn suddenly toward his palm. It engulfed his arm, pouring into him in heavy waves. His shoulders tensed, his brow furrowed deep, and his hand trembled inside that darkness, straining as though against fire. Each breath left him ragged, his face carved with pain.
But still he did not stop. The darkness kept pouring into him until the stains across the woman's skin began to fade. Her cries softened into shallow breaths, and bit by bit her expression steadied, the pain seeming to ease at last.
Yao Yao could only stare, frozen in shock. What… is this?
Then the woman's eyes lifted and found him. Horror flashed across her features, realization breaking through before twisting into confusion. She shook her head in denial, her voice cracking into a scream.
"No… no… what have you done?!"
The man lowered his gaze, sorrow flickering across his face. Darkness still clung to his arm like smoke, and through that haze, faint and distant, Yao Yao thought she heard his voice—as if carried from another time.
A single word, heavy with grief.
"…Elisie…"
Yao Yao froze. Before she could even breathe, the garden thinned into mist, dissolving into nothing.
A pale glow pressed against her lids, tugging her back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open to the glow surrounding her, the necklace trembling against her skin.
The dark mist lingered close, curling like streams with a will of their own, reaching for her—yet each time they neared, they recoiled, driven back by the light.
Her consciousness swayed, half-clouded, when a figure came into view—a tall shape draped in black, his face blurred by the haze. She couldn't make out his features, but a voice reached her, low and almost familiar.
"…Thought I felt something filthy here…"
The Spirit King's gaze swept the chamber—the abyssal stains spreading across the stone, the open book lying abandoned on the ground. His eyes lingered on the ritual circles before gliding to her, to the small body sprawled across the floor with abyssal stains crawling beneath her skin, barely held back by the faint light pulsing from her necklace.
"…didn't think I'd actually find you here," he said.