A Song for The Ages

Feiyin moved through the endless tunnels of the cavern system, his body slipping into a rhythm of travel, battle, and rest. His wounds had closed, and though the soreness still lingered in his limbs, his strength had returned in full.

With each passing moment, he was growing more accustomed to his surroundings. The absolute darkness no longer bothered him. His inner sense had grown sharper, and the oscillations of the world around him guided his every step.

And he wasn't alone.

The small white snake, his quiet companion, slithered along his shoulder or coiled lightly around his wrist. It had begun to trust him, moving more freely without tensing at his touch. But still, there was a reserved nature to it, as if it were waiting.

Waiting for something.

Feiyin had tried naming it a few times.

"Xiao Bai?"

The snake had flicked its tongue at him before turning away.

"Jing?"

It had ignored him completely.

"Yin?"

That earned him a flick of the tail. Still not good enough.

It wasn't until hours later, after he had fought and slain a group of lizard-like creatures with rough brown scales, that inspiration struck. As he rested against a stone, carving what edible meat he could from the remains, he glanced down at the snake.

The dim light of the cavern's bioluminescent moss reflected off its pristine scales, making them shimmer like polished stone.

Like white jade.

He exhaled, looking at it with a small smirk. "Bai Yu."

The snake lifted its head slightly, its golden eyes watching him.

Then, in a slow, deliberate motion, it flicked its tongue out and lightly tapped his wrist.

Feiyin grinned. Acceptance.

Traveling through the cave was exhausting.

Not just because of the endless darkness, the constant battles, or the uncertainty of where he was going.

It was the solitude.

Even though Bai Yu was with him, the silence pressed on his mind.

No Ren. No Yue. No Shen Mu. No militia. No Sun Ke. No parents.

It was just him, wandering, surviving.

But he had no choice.

So he pushed forward.

The battles never stopped.

Spiders, the size of wolves, scuttled out from the walls, their hairy legs making no sound against the stone. Their venomous fangs clashed against his blade.

Rats, larger than the ones from before, leaped at him from the shadows, their claws scrabbling against his arms as he slashed through their filthy bodies.

Even reptilian creatures, covered in thick, jagged scales, hissed and lunged, their jaws snapping inches from his throat before he drove his centipede blade into their vulnerable throats.

Each fight tested him.

Forced him to adapt.

His centipede blade was sharp, sturdy, but it wasn't a saber. It lacked the versatility of a proper weapon, forcing him to adjust his technique. Instead of wide sweeping motions, he kept his movements tight and precise, using small slashes and thrusts to conserve energy while keeping his enemies at bay.

And with every battle, Bai Yu grew bolder.

The small snake had begun assisting him, darting from his wrist to strike at weak points on his enemies before swiftly retreating.

Feiyin felt their connection deepening.

Not just through the simple fact that they were surviving together, but through the oscillations.

He could sense Bai Yu's mood.

When it was wary. When it was calm.

When it was eager to strike.

It was an unspoken understanding between them, a subtle synchronization that made them work together without words.

Feiyin didn't have a map.

No real way of knowing where he was going.

But he used logic.

If he wanted to reunite with Ren and Yue, he had to find a central location.

The Saint Spirit Sect wouldn't just let their captives roam indefinitely. They had to have an end point, a place where the survivors would eventually be gathered.

He needed to figure out where that was.

But first, he needed to rest.

He found another underground stream, its water clear and still, reflecting the faint glow of scattered moss.

Kneeling beside it, he cupped the cool liquid in his hands and drank deeply.

Bai Yu slithered down his arm, dipping its small head toward the water, drinking alongside him.

For the first time in days, Feiyin smiled.

Resting against the stone, he closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Then, he exhaled slowly.

And began cultivating.

Feiyin pressed onward, his footsteps steady yet aimless. He had no way of telling how long it had been since he had last seen another person. Days? Weeks? Time had lost all meaning in the endless dark, his only markers being hunger, thirst, exhaustion, and the slow but steady growth of his strength.

He had followed a simple rule: always take the right path, a lesson from a story his mother once told him about labyrinths, where those who lost their way should always move in a single direction rather than wander aimlessly. And yet, despite following that rule, he found himself feeling adrift, the certainty of his method beginning to unravel.

The solitude was oppressive.

Even with Bai Yu coiled around his arm or draped over his shoulder, even with his ever-present focus on cultivating, fighting, and surviving, the endless cavernous silence gnawed at him. He had slain more creatures than he could count, spiders that dropped from unseen crevices, lizards that lunged from cracks in the stone, rats that bared their yellowed teeth at him. Each fight sharpened him, his blade an extension of his will, his inner strength more controlled, more precise. He could feel the refinement of his power, the deepening of his understanding.

And yet, was it enough?

At some point, he didn't even know when, the doubt began to creep in.

Am I even going the right way?

Am I truly getting closer to them?

What if I'm just running in circles? What if they already made it out and I'm still wandering in the dark?

He gritted his teeth, shaking his head. No, don't think like that. Just keep moving. Keep fighting. Keep surviving.

Yet with each step, the weight of isolation pressed harder against his back.

Even as he opened his fourth meridian, even as he felt himself grow stronger, the emptiness of the caverns never changed.

For the first time, a terrible thought took root in his mind, What if I never find my way back?

His pace slowed. Was he truly lost?

The once unshakable certainty in his path had crumbled.

He glanced at Bai Yu, who rested lazily against his wrist, tongue flicking out as if sensing his mood. Feiyin exhaled, his fingers unconsciously stroking the smooth, cool scales of the small snake. The familiar sensation steadied him, just a little.

But no matter how much he tried to drown out his doubts, they remained, lingering at the edges of his mind like a shadow he couldn't shake. He continued walking, mindlessly now, no longer sure whether he was following the right path or simply fleeing from the gnawing despair clawing at his thoughts.

Then, a flicker.

His steps halted abruptly.

Something shifted in his senses, something different.

Not the slow, inorganic resonance of stone.

Not the faint pulses of distant creatures skittering in the dark.

Not the familiar vibrations of flowing water or the low hum of stagnant air.

Something else.

A pulse.

Faint but unmistakable.

An oscillation, human.

Feiyin's breath caught in his throat.

His fingers instinctively curled around his blade as his heartbeat surged. The exhaustion, the doubts, the suffocating sense of isolation, all of it vanished in that moment, replaced by a singular, burning focus.

He wasn't alone anymore.