Land of Immortals

Land of Immortals? Raijin looked into the empty eyeholes in the ghostly blue woman’s head. Through them, he watched the indigo waterfall behind her churning the water in the shallow pool. The motion stuttered strangely, moving then stopping, moving then stopping.

The woman laughed and held out one pale blue hand. He reached for it, the feeling like lifting a millstone. His own hand looked to be made of bluish charcoal smears just a shade darker than the rocks and trees surrounding the pool. It moved in the same halting skips as the waterfall, as if he were only seeing glimpses of its motion.

The woman watched him struggle, clearly amused.

“Are you truly so weak, chosen one?” Shaking her head, she made up the distance between their hands without a hint of the clumsy pauses and pulled him easily to his feet. “Remind me never to be cast out of the heavens. You must have fallen all the way back to a Tier 1.”

Though the air in this place was thick, like wet smoke, Raijin’s lungs struggled to pull in enough to stop his head from spinning. It felt as if a dozen huge stones had been piled on his chest. Every breath was a great exertion. Unable to force words of thanks from his mouth, he gave a polite but halting bow, struggling to rise once more.

“Will we treat each other so formally now?” The ghostly woman asked. “Fine.” She bowed to him. “Misuru, Raijin. Raijin, Misuru. We are pleased to make one another’s acquaintance again.”

Raijin took a deep lungful of air, the scent of this place like heady incense in his nostrils, and tried with all his might to speak.

“H-how…” The air hissed over his vocal cords, the word less spoken than breathed.

“How do I know we’re pleased to meet each other, or how do I know your name? Or how did I defeat the akane?” Misuru gestured over one pale blue shoulder toward the fleshy red beast she had tossed around like a scrap of cloth. As she did, the creature disintegrated and blew away, the red smoke of its remains stuttering and pausing in intricate eddies and curls. “Don’t you remember anything?”

“K-Koida,” he breathed. Sweat beaded on his temples from the effort it took to speak.

The woman—Misuru—nodded. “The Dark Dragon. You remember that you have to kill her before she destroys the cycle of the mortal realm for good.”

Raijin shook his head in protest. He had saved both Koida and the world this time. He’d followed the correct variation as closely as he could. She should be safe, and the world should as well.

But then, if he had truly succeeded, he should also be dead.

“Why…am I…here?” Forcing the words out seemed to require full body concentration. By the time he finished, he was shaking with exhaustion. He dropped to one knee.

Misuru flopped onto the grass before him, folding her legs beneath her. “When I first saw you, I assumed it was because you had defeated her and were returning home victorious. Given your demotion, however, I think we can safely assume that you’ve been defeated and were sent back to grow stronger for your next battle.”

“Demotion?”

“It doesn’t get any lower than Tier 1, Thunderer. You might as well still be mortal.” She tapped her chin with one pale blue finger. “Do you remember that name? Thunderer? Your first life? The first cycle, when we were mortals? What about the Ascension? You couldn’t forget that.”

“Apologies,” Raijin stopped her. “I…don’t…”

“Nothing?” Her eyeless holes opening wider. “Not even the Treachery?”

“Please…” He faltered for a moment, both to catch his breath and to search for an appropriate address. He had no idea whether Misuru was older or younger than him. Since they’d met, she had spoken to him in a familiar but neutral tone, giving no hint at her station or their relationship. He switched to a respectful familiar tone to be safe. “Please, great immortal sister. Begin as if your lowly brother knows nothing—” He gulped down a painful lungful of air, his head pounding. “—and must have even the simplest information explained to him like a child.”

“You’re lucky you found Misuru, Thunderer. The other immortals are not so forgiving of weakness as I.” She sighed. “Perhaps you had better tell me what you do remember.”