The pelting rain felt like knives across Hong Luo’s skin while Mo Meifeng sprinted through the forest. Locked inside in mortal combat, the harsh outside feelings tussled the sensations of reality and dream against one another. Reality painfully beating delusion into the mud, but the hallucination that all this was a dream, being too deeply rooted, although suffered quite heavily, in actuality, it merely bleed out from small scraps and bruises. Not affected in the slightest.

To Hong Luo, the withered and hollowed out Doctor Mozen, everything before her eyes was delirium conjured up at the end of her life. Wishing too strongly for the impossible had sprung forth a fever dream, just as it had done before beneath the corpse riddled banyan tree, the horrific sight that turned a dream into a nightmare. This, before her now, was nothing more than a false reality to soothe her soul as it slowly destroys itself. 

Because that’s what she had done, she had destroyed her soul, fearing that her life would renew again, terrified to be forced to repeat it on a never ending cycle. 

But what if she was over thinking, destroying herself unnecessarily? Well, she wasn’t willing to put it to chance. The thought of living again——– was simply too tiring, her exhaustion already at its limit.

Taking hold of the demonic aura in her soul, the dark power inherited from her father, she burned away her existence, erasing herself in hopes to never be reincarnated again, to obliterate any possible likelihood she may ever have. Using the wood aura hidden in her soul, the elven one inherited by her mother, to soothe the damage, to save her world from herself, she used the years worth of accumulated essence to calm the curse, before it had the chance to spread. A linchpin that would also serve for its inevitable end, that she would unfortunately not be there to assure its continued livinghood.

Every tiny detail was planned. Letters were sent out on the backs of her feathery children. Her worldly belongings scattered. Patients handed over. Her death long written off as certain, for even without intervention, it would have ended months later on its own. From the terminal illness even she could not cure. Not like she tried too hard either. A basic understanding was all she sought, nothing more. After all, illnesses were not her forte.

But this——– wasn’t planned. 

The world she never thought to see again, the faces she raced off to lay eyes on before it all fades to black. And the flickering life holding tight to her back, the one she regretted long into her proceeding life. She’d never forgotten him. The foolish, silly, adorable man who kept a broken child company as she was slowly slipping away, holding her to his own deteriorating body until she breathed no longer.

She glanced back at the dying man she never knew the name of, and lifted her lips into the first true smile she’s had in years. “For however long this dream may last, I will spend it saving you, even though your existence is not real. You, my heaviest of regrets and my sweetest of memories.” The whisper lost to the rain.

And like that, a reason to see this dream to the end had been formed, a piece of driftwood to keep her from drowning if the illusion were to ever break. But would it be enough? Or will she shatter along with the dream and step off the ledge into the awaiting abyss? Afraid only time will tell.

Barely without notice there’s a break in the rain, the heavy pelting turned into light drizzle. Hong Luo turned back forward, just in time for Mo Meifeng to break through the forest, with Mo Yin close behind. They slow and come to a steady trot, Mo Yin takes the lead, walking around a building right along the garden pathway, though a poor excuse it was, as no flowers could be seen no matter how far they went. 

Eventually they come to halt on one of many small mounds littering the front yard.

Dim lighted and mist hangs at the ground, a humble home with its foundation raised greets them amidst the rain. There stood three buildings combined into one, though oddly enough the rightmost one is half there, only partially built with planks of wood and tools sitting to the side. It was obvious that the one who placed them, for whatever reason had left, and had planned to return soon after to finish up. Yet with moss growing over the wood, leaves filling the toolbox, and hammers partially buried, the one who had gone, never managed to return.

The rest of the surroundings were quite modest. A plain gazebo sat to the right side of the yard, its materials cheap, the design rough and a bit lopsided, but it stayed standing nonetheless. But there inside, a much nicer wood table sat with four chairs around it. 

Obviously the creator of the table had no relation to the gazebo designer, the two appearing quite mismatched and out of place when put together. And at closer look, whoever sat at the table last, left a few plates and cups, which had, most likely due to the wind, turned over and fell to the ground, rolling off into the grass nearby. 

Even further past the gazebo large wooden poles stuck up and out of the ground, varying in width and height. A strange sight, with no clear purpose. That is, unless by some chance, these oddly placed poles are to be considered decoration? Most likely not, though then again, there is always that possibility.

As for the other side, it looked even more modest than the left. Just a simple pathway that wrapped around the tall grass, leading to behind the house and around a busted tree stump in front. It nearly wrapped the building, a path breaking off to lead into the house, and end of the path? Unfinished, seemingly leading the area still under construction. Lastly a pile of large stones sat in the open space between the path, the original appearance being swallowed by weeds.

Digging her fingers into the coarse fur, “I’m home,” Hong Luo trembled out, mumbling so softly, a whistler may be more easily heard. How wonderful it is for her memory to be able to conjure such a beautiful illusion. So strikingly accurate, the longer she looked, the more real it felt.

“So real…” Heart ache pursed her lips. “...too real.” Her heart skipped.

Once the words left her mouth a spark raced up her spine. It numbed her scalp, nauseating her into vertigo. Grabbing hold of her arms she leaned forward, feeling painfully sick to her stomach. 

This is not real, she repeated like a mantra. Over and over she convinced herself, calming down the panic churning her stomach into toxic soup. Fearful tears had already mixed into the rain, her breathing rapidly hoarse.

This situation caused panic amongst the beasts. Mo Meifeng wrapped her tail around her riders, the tip patting Hong Luo’s shoulder, her nose in the air as she whined for a response.

Mo Yin was worse, he circled the leopard, reaching out to stroke Hong Luo’s head but would stop each time. Once he pulled back he’d circle the leopard again, scratching madly at himself, oohing and aahing for any response he could get.

Sadly, neither beast was successful in transmitting their concern. This short time seemed to last an eternity for the poor panicking duo. That was until a grunt and cough broke it apart.

The man who had shifted uncomfortably forward expressed unconsciously. Startled out of the ensuing panic attack, Hong Luo swiftly turns around to check on the man. Her attention fully on him had blown those thoughts of hers out of the water, and mindlessly called for Mo Meifeng and Mo Yin to help her down.

With a rush of stamina that came out of nowhere, two bony legs ran across the yard, those small hands burst open the doors, and the pair vanished into the house. Left behind in bewilderment, the beasts looked to one another then leapt to the open door, curiously peeking inside.

At this point Hong Luo had already stripped the man of his cloak and laid him down on her mother and father’s fold down bed. Obviously the cloak did a wonderful job, the material exquisitely waterproof and durable. Still his clothes were a bit damp due to water running off her hair and onto him, which was unfortunate, but still better than what it could have been. 

She stuffed her hands into his boots, confirming they too were dry, but the feet inside them were ice cold to the touch. So she tossed the boots off and stuffed his feet into the surprisingly clean blanket, but before she covered him fully she tore the blanket off and stripped him of his clothes. After pulling out all the water, only then did she put them back on and cover him.

Terribly exhausted, she pushed herself to dig out the heater hidden in the floor compartment and heating stones stored with it, stones brimming with sleeping fire essence. Haphazardly she pushed the heater to the bed, shoved the lid open, and poured in several stones all at once. 

The lid closed with a bang! The heavy sound rattled the dust off the contraption. As soon as she reached down and twisted a knob beneath the base, a click sounded and a twisting dial with a button in the center protruded near her face. Once the button was pushed in, the black stones began to faintly glow inside. The further right the dial was twisted, the brighter they became, hidden from view. Slow and steady the room became warm and soothing.

Drenched in sweat Hong Luo plopped down on the bed, tirelessly moving, checking the man’s condition. Running over him with the insignificant amount of essence she had, making sure she hadn’t missed a single detail of his condition.

Outwardly the same as before but inwardly. “Why? Why do you have that inside your body?” 

Hong Luo was very confused as she wiped away the trailing blood on her chin. Not because his condition was new and needed further examination, further research to find an option that best fit him, but because she ‘did know’ what was wrong, knowing the largest factor that threatened his life. The cause, an impossibility that simply couldn’t be true!

It was poison, or to be more accurate, venom, Devil Dragon venom. Highly corrosive, essence devouring, soul tormenting, mood destabilizing, the list goes on and on and even becomes more abundant the weaker the constitution the patient has. Perhaps even more than she’s aware, which explained her surprise to his ensuing blindness, a symptom she’d never experienced. 

Unfortunately the one who applied the dosage on her at the time needlessly worried too heavily and removed it, taking away any other opportunity for further evaluations. Originally after her recovery she’d planned to do more testing, only to have all her hopes destroyed when told, once infected you become immune. Doubtful, she let herself be infected again, and just as was said, nothing happened. Such a wasted opportunity! Those two years were not nearly enough time to fully break apart that evolving venom! Her curiosity had an inch that it could no longer scratch. It was infuriating!

“Is it merely a blank being filled? Not knowing the cause and so the dream grabs from any source that could easily fit the empty hole?” Her hand slid down his sickly face, down his neck, past his chest, then slowly but steadily, it came to rest on his lower abdomen. There beneath her palm, underneath the cloth, the skin had long turned purple, the venom there extremely concentrated. 

Gently an aura surrounds that small hand of hers and seeps inside him. Suddenly a purple flush invades that hand, rushes up her arm, and disappears past her shoulder. Despite the alarming sight, Hong Luo just smiles, in fact, she chuckles.

Time slowly passes, the sun sits comfortably on the horizon, barely noticeable behind the several layers of storm clouds. Half an hour more and night will officially have come.

Just then the ground trembles and the shelves nailed to the wall rattle. A boom displaces everything in the house. 

The man unknowingly grunts out of discomfort. Hong Luo’s head had collided with his ribs. She’d fainted at some point in time, but now was fully conscious, shaking her head and frowning.

A boom crashes outside, followed by another one, and another one. Two piercing roars shatter the air. Her sight jumps to the ceiling creaking and cracking, the color of her face completely draining away second by second. 

Until she could sit still no longer. Silent rage bubbling under indifference, Hong Luo races to the door and slams it open. “Enough!”