The boy lay upon the makeshift bed, crafted from the splintered fragments of a coffin lid. Blood drenched him, soaking the soiled hemp of his robes. Lin Wu hovered above the wreckage, one hand stroking the silvered patch of beard upon his chin while the other rested just below his waist.
Intriguing. A vessel incapable of processing sound. Not damaged, simply incapable.
He found it perplexing that the cause of this deafness was not a curse, nor a genetic defect, nor an injury from birth. As far as his divine senses perceived, Shen was a perfect mortal burdened by standard mortal flaws. Yet something unlike any curse rested within his soul. It was a vacuum, a gap that pressurized the boy's physical frame and reduced him to a hollow shell.
Perfect for me to inhabit.
That realization sent a flicker of unease through his spine. Either he had calculated the perfect awakening, or an external force was influencing the currents of the era. Both possibilities were beyond his current reach, and one left a bitter taste in his mouth.
He would not stoop so low.
Shen's eyes shot open. Crimson stained the sclera, and minute veins bulged toward the pupils. He could not move. Panic took root. Lin Wu watched as Shen battled forces unknown to him in a desperate bid for clarity. After watching the boy struggle for a full five minutes, the sovereign made his move.
"Silence the dissonance, boy. Accept my hand, and I shall audit the nuisance of pain from your existence... eternally."
---
Shen ceased his struggling and shifted his gaze to Lin Wu, who now leaned against a distant coffin. Their eyes met before Shen tore his sight away to scan the humble room.
The words spoken by the man resounded through his very being. He had heard them. How? The mystery remained, yet the desire to hear that voice again was an immense, sudden hunger. Every syllable vibrating within him stilled the agony, unveiling a glimpse of what could be. Most of all, he did not simply hear; he understood. The comprehension rose from depths he never knew he possessed. If he accepted, the pain would vanish.
The scalding heat spreading through his nerves, coupled with the paralysis of his limbs, squeezed out every rational thought. He only wanted it to end. Forcing his lips to part, he mouthed a series of words he did not even know.
When he did, something clicked. At first, a high-pitched ringing rattled his nerves and bones alike. Vibrations cut a cold, neat path through to his marrow, throwing his body into unrestrained convulsions. A thick, oily sensation settled in the pit of his stomach, clipping the noisy vibrations into a low, rhythmic hum. The pain fled.
Bones and flesh meshed back together, and his distorted facial features returned to their natural state.
"Your choice was the only logical one."
Again, the voice reached him in an unnatural manner: singular jolts of thick vibration that clapped like thunder in his mind and sent low tremors into his marrow. Who was this?
"An intriguing question. Even I have yet to find its conclusion."
Movement returned to Shen's limbs. Pushing against the cold stone lid, he rose into a seated position. Without the blood blurring his vision, he finally saw the benefactor who had aided him.
The figure was unlike any man he had ever encountered. At first, he tried to compare the stranger to the village elders who claimed the title of Immortals, but something deep within him rejected the thought. He sat before something far greater than any elder. His mind could not conjure an accurate scale for such power, but his marrow screamed in recognition of it.
Gray and white hair flowed behind the being in a manner that put the great waterfall east of the village to shame. He had once considered that water the most beautiful thing in the world, but it paled now. Even the blue glow of the spirit flames dancing around them did little to detract from the man's purity.
Bright gold eyes, lit with the fires of a captive sun, stared right at him. Shen cowered, but not before glimpsing the flowing purple robes that added elegance to the picturesque scene. Whatever the being in front of him was, it was no man. An Immortal, perhaps?
"Rule one: Never look at God."
Shen shuddered. Words, even if he had any, remained caught in his throat, incapable of leaving. To him, his very breath felt stolen. He inhaled and exhaled, but only a low whistle escaped. The being's presence caged him. Hands, feet, and spine felt bound as if wrapped in thick chains, yet none were physically present.
"You possess far too much noise clogging your internal system... as these 'cultivators' say."
Comprehending the man's words unnerved him. Each successive syllable grated against his psyche. The lack of control he possessed did little to make the experience palatable. He had long since anchored his gaze to the mausoleum floor, yet that did not stop him from seeing the man's shadow grow larger until it towered over him. The space between them shrunk until he tasted the frigid, cold pressure. It froze his tongue. His body fought back by shifting its temperature toward heat, a rising warmth that spread to his cheeks. His pale pallor remained, save for those rose-tinted patches cooled only by the blue flames.
The man pressed a finger to the crown of his head. Information bypassed the flesh and flooded his mind.
Sever the body from the world. Separate sound and non-sound. Achieve internal unity.
The phrase clung to the fringes of his psyche. It was not merely given to him; it was soldered into the sockets of his conscious and unconscious memory, destined to never be forgotten. A cooling air passed from his cranium down through passages in his body he never knew existed. It arrived with a soft vibration that lit up his nerves in a soothing manner. Even the fear clawing at his chest dissipated.
"That is your lifeline. Comprehend it, and you shall attain power. Fail... do not fail."
The man finished. His shadow receded until Shen heard the being climb back into the coffin. Shen froze. A shudder zipped through him, sweat dripping into pools beneath his frame. It emboldened the thick scent of his blood-stained robes. Escape was a fleeting thought his body dared not muster.
He crawled to a corner of the space and sat down. Perhaps pondering the words in his mind offered a better chance of finding a way out. It was a long shot, but he could try.
Sever the body from the world.
What did that mean?
First, he tried to achieve true calmness so he could think. The internal static clouding his senses fought for all his attention until, suddenly, it ceased. Something about those words stilled him. He drifted into a state between sleep and awareness. A chill traveled through paths in his body he had never known until it finally settled in the pit of his stomach.
Minutes and hours seeped through him. Every moment, he tried clinging to the sensation settling in his gut, but to no avail. That feeling was most likely the key, but who was he kidding? He did not know what he was looking for.
When time finally rolled back into the waking world, Shen felt refreshed. Without focusing his mind on the words, there was nothing left to do but stare at the coffin in the center, or the pictures along the wall depicting a history he did not understand.