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Tang Ruo Side-Story #1 (1k words)
🕑 Added 2023-04-16 18:15:00 +0000 UTCA boy of fourteen, with a lanky, tallish frame, breathed in and out with extreme care as he balanced his body over sharp, dangerous blades. His hands were behind his back, his legs crossed and he struggled immensely. Trembling from the strain, with only his unnaturally strong core allowing him to hover over the lethal edges.
His struggle was understandable: a sword hungered for stuck his stomach, another for his throat, and two more for his wide-open purple eyes. Just an inch more, an inch further, and the boy would be a blind cripple - if he managed to survive at all.
Yet, his expression was tranquil. Indifferent. As if his current situation, where one wrong move spelled death, meant nothing to him. He just tensed his muscles and breathed.
One minute. Two. Five. Ten. The boy still held strong, despite shaking like a leaf. A firm believer in the spirit prevailing over matter - but what if the mind itself was corrupted?
'Help...'
'Help us...'
The boy's face tightened, and, for a second as he lost control, one of the swords drew blood from his gut.
He nearly cursed, only stopping himself as the words were already leaving his mouth. He decided to ignore the voices, the wailing cries inside his head, but they were far from willing to let him go.
'Free us... Help us...'
'Free us... It hurts... It hurts too much...'
The voices, initially quiet whispers, became louder. Filled with torment and distress.
The boy clenched his fists, determined not to react. There was no winning with the voices, no successful overcome. Addressing their words meant fueling the fire of their desperation, and the boy knew, from experience, that it was a bad idea.
Ignoring them, however, was becoming harder and harder.
'Help us, child...'
'HELP US!'
'FREE US!'
'KILL YOURSELF! RELEASE US!'
"SHU-", the boy yelled, experiencing immediate regret. His posture crumbled, balance was disrupted, and the blades pierced through. One pierced through his stomach, one penetrated his neck and two punctured his eyes, going so deep they almost reached the brain.
Blood erupted like a fountain, turning his clothes crimson and the boy himself helplessly chortled on it.
A woman appeared next to him. She was slim, with narrow shoulders and hips. Her features were sharp and angular, as if the weapon so proudly equipped to her back, a large silver claymore, transferred its qualities to her appearance.
Just like the boy just a few moments ago, the woman was stoic and emotionless - only if the youngster's demeanor was artificial, was something that he had to consciously keep up, the ice-cold attitude of the new arrival was her second nature.
The woman stood over the boy, her intense, razor-like gaze observing him with great scrutiny. His anguish seemed to have no effect on her, not inducing even an ounce of compassion. She watched, as he writhed in agony, watched and waiting for something, before shaking her head in disappointment when the boy was mere seconds from death.
She picked him up by his collar, with such ease that he could've been a weightless feather, and forced a pill into mouth. In an instant, the boy's wounds closed, the cuts on his body melded. Even his eyes, which were completely gone, with only two holes remaining, grew back a few seconds later.
The boy coughed, almost puking blood, before he stabilized and punched ground in anger. He then took another breath, in order to his regain his composure, and gave the woman a slight bow.
"I thank Aunt for her help," he said, "And I apologize for requiring her assistance in the first place."
His aunt gave him a long, complicated look, before she sighed.
"Failure is part of a normal man's fate. They fall, they get up, they fall again, stumbling on the Martial Road until they reach their peak, too exhausted to continue moving," she replied, her tone expectantly dry, "You, however, are not allowed to fail. Do you remember why, Little Ruo?"
"Because I am Son of the Heavens," Tang Ruo stated, his posture straight, his voice firm and full of robust determination, "I understand, Aunt. This one lost his calm - it won't happen again."
"I hope so, nephew. Punishing you always brings me discomfort," the woman said, before she, in an unusual for her display of affection, patted Tang Ruo's shoulder, "Is it the voices again? We never expected that to happen..."
Tang Ruo stared at her hand, at her expression that betrayed her deeply hidden pity. His teeth gritted in rage. No one is supposed to feel sorry for him! He is Tang Ruo, the Celestial Heir, Son of the Heavens, the future ruler of all that lives in the world! Pity?! Only admiration, worship and fear are allowed emotions toward him!
"I'm fine, Aunt. They are an annoyance, nothing more," said Tang Ruo, as he wiped the blood from his face, "Better tell me, how's Grandpa? Is he alright now?"
The woman chuckled, her laugh sorrowful, and turned towards the barely visible mountain range.
"At his age, there is no getting better. Only not becoming worse," the woman replied. She then let out a small smile, an event of such rarity it could be celebrated, "But he promised he won't die until you reach Shangtian. And you know how Father is. Even the Heavens have to bow before his will. If he wants to see you ascend the celestial throne, something as trivial as death won't be enough to stop him."
“Then I will do my best to realize Grandpa’s wish. Give me a hundred years and it will be done.”
“A hundred?” the woman teased, “Little prince, since when are you this doubtful?”
Tang Ruo smirked, his confidence and attitude restored.
“Seventy years it is then,” he said, “Don’t grow too complacent, Auntie. Time will come when I will be the one to teach you.”
“Brat.”, she answered him, “Go back to training now. You dawdled long enough.”
Tang Ruo nodded – these few minutes of a break were already too much of deviation from his routine. He had the talent, he had the resources and he had the support. If he couldn’t reach the peak, if he couldn’t make the Martial World tremble like his Grandfather did, then what was the point of his existence?!
