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ChaosRipjaw -> RE: =EC 2023= Twilight Arena (7/26/2023 22:32:19)
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Amidst the embers' glow, a figure stands,
A bride of agony, with pale, ghostly hands,
Long white hair cascades, a shimmering veil,
A haunting presence, a sorrowful tale.
Sunrise. The sign of a new day to come. Golden rays stretched across the sky, their warm hues painting a tapestry of vibrant colors over the awakening city of Bren. The city embraced the dawn with open arms, coming alive with an energetic buzz as people from all walks of life streamed through the congested thoroughfares. The clatter of armor and the glimmer of weapons caught the sunlight, creating a dazzling display. Laughter and excited chatter filled the air, growing in intensity as the crowds swelled.
This was Bren, the pulsing heart where the boundaries blurred and all realms intersected. A crossroads of cultures, where diverse peoples from far-flung lands mingled in harmonious chaos. Here, the grandeur of architecture whispered tales of ancient civilizations, while the vibrant tapestry of flags fluttering in the breeze proclaimed the unity of nations. A nexus of the lands between.
Amidst the symphony of voices, today was an extraordinary day. For today was the day of the Elemental Championships, a spectacle that gripped the city's collective imagination. The streets, usually bustling with their daily routines, now thrived with an electric energy, as competitors and spectators alike flooded the labyrinthine alleys and squares. The air crackled with excitement, charged with whispers of rivalries, legends, and untamed power. Warriors, mages, and everything in between had arrived from distant corners of the realm, bearing their unique talents and unwavering determination. The promise of glory, the pursuit of triumph (and perhaps something far beyond any of these) filled every nook and cranny, drawing in warriors of all backgrounds.
As the sun ascended, its gentle touch illuminated the labyrinthine streets, casting long shadows that danced alongside the bustling figures below. Within one of these shadows, In the midst of the chaos, amidst the swirling currents of excitement and anticipation, emerged a white-haired woman in a blood-red cloak.
Meng Chiyi silently wove her way through the labyrinthine alleys, like a specter navigating the realm of the living. The city's cheerfulness seemed to wilt in her presence, replaced by an eerie aura that trailed behind her. Passersby didn’t exactly avoid her, but her presence was heralded by a wide berth as she strode past them.
This is the only way, right? Is there another way?
Also like a ghost, Meng Chiyi did not seem to be taking notice of any of the scenery, save to pass silently from shadow to shadow cast by the intricate buildings. Curiously, the sun's radiant presence overhead seemed to evoke an unusual nervousness within her, even though time had long ceased to be a pressing concern for one at her age. Each passing moment felt like an ever subtle pull of something long buried in her memories, an intangible weight that tugged at her consciousness. It was as if she were caught in the inexorable flow of an invisible river, unable to escape its grasp. As she weaved through the shadows, the sun's unforgiving gaze bore down on her like a silent witness, intensifying the unease that stirred in her soul.
Unease … or something else.
Anticipation.
Without even needing to think about it, she reached into the little pouch on her hip and popped a wrathberry into her mouth. These fruits were not for the faint of heart; despite possessing hearty, savory flesh, they released searingly spicy juices akin to having an out of control forest fire go off in one’s mouth. But Meng Chiyi had long since grown accustomed to its flavor, no small thanks to years of snacking on them. The fire on her taste buds barely elicited any reaction. If anything, its sensation was actually quite comforting.
Absently chewing on a wrathberry, she followed the winding path, occasionally spitting out the hard seeds as she moved.
Her unease ebbed. It was actually quite good to be back in civilization again, surrounded by the commotion of life. The bustling streets and vibrant energy of Bren had a comforting familiarity, almost like coming home. (Even if she was as far away from home as possible at this point.)
As she navigated through the crowded thoroughfares, the scenes around her brought flashes of memories from a long-lost past. The laughter and shouts of people, the colorful stalls lining the streets, and the aroma of various delicacies being cooked over open fires. The villagers would come together, sharing laughter and stories, reveling in the simple joys of life. But as much as she wanted to join in, she was hurrying, because right around the corner was—
Meng Chiyi rounded a corner and almost plowed right into another man who happened to be stepping out one of the myriad shops lining the streets. He stumbled, a moment of surprise etched across his features. Instinctively, Chiyi reached out and grabbed his arm, steadying him. Just in time too, as the large pack on his back had yanked him off his center of gravity.
At this moment, their eyes met.
Fujun–?
A brief breeze ruffled her cloak.
“Are you alright, ma’am?” he asked.
Chiyi blinked, breaking out of her brief reverie. She realized he’d been saying something multiple times. The words were foreign, but Chiyi had heard this language before and understood it. Even though it had been a while. For a brief moment, she fumbled, searching for the words.
“I … am fine,” Chiyi said haltingly, her words laced with accent. She shook her head slightly. “Almost … made you fall. Sorry.”
The man smiled. It was hard to tell how old he was. “No need to apologize,” he reassured her. “I’m alright, thanks to you. You have quick reflexes.”
Oddly enough, his kind words somehow released the knot in her gut. “Thank you,” she said, her voice still tentative but appreciative.
He nodded. “Are you in a hurry to sign up for the Championships?”
“I — yes,” she answered, astonished. “How … do you know?”
“It’s the time of the year,” he said, chuckling. “And I don’t think you carry around that sword for show.”
Ah yes, the sword. Meng Chiyi did not need to reach for it; its weight rested heavily, tugging against her shoulders. But in a way it was a comfortable sensation.
She sensed it would not be wise to share the sword’s name.
“If you’re looking for the signup office, it’s just a few streets over, actually,” he said, pointing. “You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you,” Chiyi said. She hesitated, then added, “You … are very kind.”
He looked at her, his gaze lingering to her left. He spoke with a gentle tone, as though trying not to intrude too much into her personal affairs.
“It is probably not my place to say it,” he said quietly, “but just remember, in the Arena, it can get intense.” He hesitated. You've probably already been through so much," he said, choosing his words carefully. “Take care of yourself out there. It's not just about winning, you know. Your life ... it's valuable.”
What does he know!?
Chiyi paused to consider. His words were laced with empathy, probably understanding that he couldn't fully grasp the depth of her p—
He will never know, never —
He wanted to remind her.
Who does he think he is, playing like —
Meng Chiyi met his gaze, appreciating his concern and genuine compassion. Even if such days were far behind her.
“Thank you,” she replied softly, her voice carrying a mix of gratitude and determination. “I will ... remember.”
Interestingly enough, the clerk behind the counter seemed totally unfazed by her unusual appearance, greeting her with a professional demeanor. He asked only for her name and element, the essential information needed for registration.
“Meng Chiyi,” she said.
“And element?” the clerk intoned.
She stopped chewing. In all the time spent on the journey here, everything she’d been through, she had never considered. What element?
“I … am supposed to know my element?”
“Of course,” the clerk said, with infinitely more patience than she would have expected. “You need to pick one of the eight.”
“There are eight elements?”
“That’s tradition,” he said, nodding. “Now, I haven’t been around much but I’ve seen people like you around, I think you people only deal with five? Well here there’s eight. Each corresponds with the Lord you’ll be trying to get favor from.” He indicated a chart on the wall, where symbols representing the different elements were displayed.
Meng Chiyi peered at it, slowly deciphering the words.
“It’s usually kind of tricky because unlike in the East, wood, metal, and earth are all just ‘Earth’, and fire, wind, and energy are split …”
She found her attention drawn to the depiction of flames, tracing the fiery lines with her red-eyed gaze.
Absently, she spat out a seed (taking care to aim into one of the potted plants, it would not do at all to spit at random indoors) and pulled out another wrathberry, popping it into her mouth. The flaming hot spice of the wrathberry’s juices coated her tongue, burning reassuringly against her taste buds.
She couldn't help but feel a mixture of amusement at the obvious answer. So much for “eight” elements.
“This,” she said, tapping the chart with two fingers, “is my element.”
“Yeah I can see that,” the clerk said, rapidly jotting down on his parchment. “Can we get someone down here from Maintenance please? Oh, nothing particularly major. The big element chart on the wall’s got a nasty burn mark.”
Sun. Mist. Light. Dark.
Rage. Hate.
Sadness.
The sun hangs low. It is taunting. The shadows stretch toward her. Reaching. Trying to grab her.
It is light, but it is not comforting.
A faint whisper in the air forewarns of an impending moment, a moment that will forever alter the course of her existence. The air crackles with electricity, and the scent of burning embers fills her nostrils, a premonition of the fiery chaos about to unfold.
And then, it happens.
In a flurry of blurred motion, the world distorts and morphs, merging reality with illusion. The shadows elongate and converge, forming an ominous figure wielding a gleaming blade. Its edges seem to shimmer with a malevolent glow, as if craving to taste the essence of life itself.
Her heart pounds in her chest, her breath quickens, and a sense of dread washes over her. But before she can react, before she can even comprehend the situation fully, the blade descends with an almost poetic grace.
Time stretches into infinity, as if every millisecond is an eternity unto itself. The blade strikes true, slicing through flesh and bone with chilling precision. There is a moment of profound silence, a breathless pause in the cosmos, as if the universe itself holds its breath in anticipation.
And then, the pain.
An excruciating surge of agony shoots through her body, and her world shatters into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations. The reality around her warps and twists, the boundaries of the physical and the metaphysical merging into an incomprehensible tapestry—
Chiyi opened her eyes. Her heart was still racing, but not from fear nor pain. Instead, a sense of introspection had filled her being, as if the dream had opened a hidden window to peer within her. Rare moments of insight, reminding her of what she kept hidden even from herself.
She reached up and touched the smooth flesh that once used to be her left arm. It had long since healed, with only faint scars indicating where the stitches used to be. The memory of it had faded with time; she neither felt pain nor sorrow about it. Nor indeed did she ever really think about it anymore. She might as well have been born with only one arm.
We enter the world alone, and we leave it alone …
Chiyi glanced at her remaining arm, flexing it thoughtfully. She had long since hewn off the sleeves of her robes, leaving her arm bare. Her skin gleamed pale under the dim light, its surface marred by faint, criss-crossing scars.
I still have you.
Would that be enough? Hardly an ocean of time had passed since that. Compared to gods of ancient legends, her own life by comparison was but a blink of an eye.
I will always be part of you.
Chiyi brushed a finger over one eye and looked, but only faint steam drifted from her fingertips, and even that was gone.
“Fujun,” she whispered.
Shadows seemed to gather at the edges of the hallway, and the dim torchlight lining the walls did little to dispel the darkness. The hallway exuded an aura of anticipation, as if the very air held its breath in preparation for what lay beyond the teak door.
A chill of anticipation ran down her spine. She popped another wrathberry into her mouth, its blazing juices seeping into her nerves.
As Meng Chiyi approached the end of the hallway, her eyes were drawn to the solid teak door that barred the path forward.
The sun …
The symbol of the sun and moon vanished before she could push open the door and it swung open for her. The arena floor came into view, a mesmerizing sight of alternating black and white wooden panels stretching out before her. The stark contrast of the panels hinted at a duality of forces at play within the arena's confines. But it was the lighting that truly captured her attention. Initially shrouded in near darkness, the arena remained hidden in obscurity until a sudden burst of orbs appeared, illuminating the entrances with an intense white light.
The orbs hung suspended in midair, gradually forming a circle that enclosed the entire arena. As light flared at the center, the harsh radiance merged, revealing the barren expanse. However, the moment of clarity was short-lived, as the entrance orbs were soon obliterated, leaving only the central area bathed in glaring light. From there, the illumination faded gradually towards the edges, cloaking the outer reaches of the arena in deepest shadow.
Another chill lanced through her spine, but it rapidly dissipated in the heat of the wrathberry.
Surrounded by darkness … and monsters.
Did we make a mistake?
“I hope not,” Chiyi said under her breath.
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