The silence.
It was a night that could never be forgotten,
That night I died and was born once again.
It was a winter night in a desolate place.
The walls had grown dull, the houses had roofs that had caved in.
And the stone path had been chipped and broken by time.
It was a forgotten place being forgotten by every being.
Because there lived neither humans nor animals,
there was hardly anything alive in this ghost town.
The cold was cruel and painful.
My breathings were slow and every breath I took felt like a pin the size of a finger was being stabbed into my heart
I laid there on a snow bed freezing and on the verge of death,
My body was pale blood oozing out from the wound on my waist, I could no longer feel my limbs and the frost had gnawed at my flesh and through my bones.
The silence made me feel like I had gone deaf
the snow continued to fall.
Indifferent to the dying beast that lay on top of the snow, who was more like a corpse than a living person now.
My clothes were soaked from blood and sweat and they felt heavy weighing me down making it hard for me to even stay as I did,
my body was paralyzed the world had no mercy, it did not even allow me to lift my finger
I stayed like that for hours waiting for my death, time passed almost like eternity,
I didn't die but I was hardly alive
At that moment the only wish I had was to die for I could not bear it anymore I just wanted the peace that would come with my death
Nevertheless it only fueled my soul's desire to live,
My body wished to die but my soul persisted on living.
Then I saw a silhouette of a man, at that point I had grown drowsy and was half delirious, and thought that it was a petty trick woven by my mind
However, the figure walked closer, despite my blurry vision I could make out a few things.
The figure was of an immortal, draped in grace and elegance, I believed it was nothing but a vivid delusion crafted by my mind in attempts to keep me awake.
my heart beat became slower and slower, I was exhausted,
I did not even have enough strength to keep my eyelids from falling.
The figure wasn't my illusion one could never mistake and immortal's aura after all, more so a being such as I even in my dying breath could never mistake and immortal's aura.
Either way I was dying that night, whether due to the cold or because of the immortal's sword nothing really mattered anymore.
After all, my wounds were also caused by his kinds, my fangs had been cut off and my claws had been pulled out.
My heart was filled with nothing but emptiness, I had neither rage nor bitterness for the world maybe because I was just a moment away from passing.
The sound of his breathings entered my ears, the only sense that hadn't been completely stripped by the cold.
The immortal, stood pristine, as pure as ever untainted by the desires of the world.
His hands reached for mine as he asked me a peculiar question.
One I could not make out as I could barely stay conscious.
However, despite my expectations he didn't draw a sword.
I suddenly felt a deep sense of...
Peace
his spiritual energy flowed through my body,
So pure and untainted just like the snow that fell that night.
The world never felt so lonely as it did that day, but the peace I felt could never be compared to anything I experienced in the past.
The immortal stood perfectly in that place and looked as if he belonged right in, as if he was a part of this place itself, it was similar to a painting I once came across.
A place silent and void of life.
Time stood still forever in that paper, as an immortal stood under a blossoming tree watching the snow fall, the mountains covered in white so pure that one would feel guilty for even laying his eyes upon it.
The picture was lonely yet magnificent it had something indescribable hidden within it.
The immortal seemed unreachable
Despite that painting carried an emotion so intense that it came to life.
I had never once seen a longing so strong as that in my entire life.
If I could stare at that painting for a while longer could the emotions hidden in those lonely strokes revealed itself?
Whose longing was it? The painter's? Or the immortal's own emotions?
While on the run, imagining the answers to questions which I could never find became a habit of mine as I spent my time in a cave which wasn't so different from this village.
The world was cruel, the weak were preyed on while the strong despite their vile nature were worshipped almost like a deity, in a world where only one's cultivation determined their fate the decisions of the strong were "justice" no matter how disgusting the truth was beneath the graceful and malevolent facade.
I was still new to the world then and had barely experienced life compared to my kins.
However, at that time
I would've never thought that I would one day decide to follow the immortal till my breath ceased and my very soul scattered throughout the world.
A devotion that time couldn't damage.
A loyalty that one could never imagine
After the sun broke in and the darkness faded.
I woke up once more and had met the immortal's eyes.
he sat there straight, beside a bed where I laid, with a smile he gave me the name
"Xue Hua"
At that moment I died and was reborn as something I could never have thought or dreamt of.
From that moment,
the long long journey of the immortal and the beast unfolded...
which is a tale that will be told through time.
One that started as something so harmless and peaceful which later took on a darker form
But that.....
is a story for another day
And thus began the story of the lonely beast and the untouched immortal.