Amidst the Waves [Wuthering Waves]

"Mother?"

Kyorin's voice barely escaped his lips, trembling with disbelief. His body, rigid and frozen as though caught in the invocation of "Detachment," now quaked under the surge of suppressed emotions—the ones he couldn't express back then—bursting uncontrollably.

The weight of emotions bore down on him, his knees weakening as his mind fought to grasp the surreal scene unfolding. Everything within him screamed that this was an illusion, a cruel fabrication of longing. Yet the harder he tried to dismiss it, the more vivid and undeniable it became.

The woman standing before him was no phantom. She moved with life, each gesture imbued with warmth and familiarity. Her navy hair, flowing like cascading rivers, shimmered in the faint light of the mist.

Her garments swayed gently, and her piercing cerulean gaze locked onto his. Dan Xia, his mother—the same face, the same presence—was there, unmistakably real.

Yet something was off.

As she approached, her soft features contorted into something unexpected. Her lips pursed, her brows furrowed, and her steps—no, her stomping march—resonated with a growing tension.

"A seething expression?"

Kyorin barely had time to register the shift before a sharp, resonant Paa! echoed through the mist.

The slap snapped him back to reality with startling clarity. The haze clouding his mind dissipated, and he suddenly found himself on the familiar shore near Yang Niu village.

The sting lingered on his cheek, anchoring him in the moment, but before he could process it, warm arms enveloped him.

"Don't ever do that again," Dan Xia's voice trembled, her arms tightening around him like a protective cocoon. "Don't run away from home."

Her embrace was suffocatingly tender, filled with a mixture of anger and relief that struck Kyorin like a blade. His small frame curled instinctively, the memory vivid as if he were reliving it—the moment before the Executioner appeared.

The sense of looming danger clawed at his chest, prompting him to push her away just enough to create distance. Xia frowned at his behaviour, the sorrow in her expression hardening into maternal frustration as she mistook his vigilance for rebellious behaviour.

Without hesitation, another slap followed, sharp and precise, leaving Kyorin momentarily stunned.

"Gah!" he yelped involuntarily, the sound startling the birds nearby. They scattered in a flurry of wings, their panicked cries echoing across the shore.

Dan Xia stood over him, her hand trembling from the strike. "You not allowed to be angry with me," she vehemently declared as her expression softened again. "Let's go home. You are hungry, right?"

Kyorin, holding his cheek, looked up at her with wide, conflicted eyes. He couldn't answer. The weight of memory, of loss, and her presence—it all rendered him silent, only allowing him to give a small nod.

Xia huffed with a mixture of frustration and affection, the corners of her lips curling into a faint smile as she couldn't quite hide her lingering anger. Without warning, she gave Kyorin a light punch to the crown.

It was a weak, playful jab, but it left him looking down, his face flushed. And in that moment, something inside him cracked.

Tears began to pour from his eyes, the dam that had held everything in check finally breaking. He felt both embarrassed and relieved, the rawness of the moment overwhelming him. 

Xia's eyes widened, her face shifting from irritation to worry as she crouched down to meet him. "Oh, sorry, my child. Sorry," she said, her voice softening, a clear sign of worry adorned in her beautiful features.

Her hand reached out to touch his shoulder, but it felt distant, as though they were worlds apart despite being so close.

But Kyorin didn't pull away. He threw his arms around her, burying his face in the fabric of her clothes as he whispered, "I will never do that... I will never do that again."

Xia's arms hesitated for a moment before wrapping tightly around him, her heart heavy. "Good child, good child. Don't cry," she murmured, her own voice trembling with emotion.

Beads of tears welled in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. She hadn't expected this, hadn't anticipated the depth of his grief. But before she could say anything else, Kyorin spoke again, his voice steady despite the tears.

"I will, from this point on, live a life that you allow me to," he declared, his words serious, almost too serious. Xia froze, her brow furrowing in disbelief.

"Ah, don't be silly, Kyorin," she dismissed the statement with a wave of her hand, still trying to ease the tension. It was a mother's instinct to comfort, but something in the way he spoke made her unsure.

Kyorin, however, meant every word. He wasn't one to make promises lightly, and he would keep them no matter the cost.

As the moments passed and Kyorin calmed, he wiped away the tears still clinging to his cheeks, his voice a little shaky as he asked, "What date is it?"

Xia, caught off guard, blinked at him, clearly expecting him to know the date. Still, she answered, "It's Yì 3, Year XXX." 

"Yì?" Kyorin repeated, his mind still reeling. Xia nodded.

Kyorin's thoughts drifted to that dark day in the third month—Sān, when the Yang Niu village had been destroyed, when the crimson-clad assailants had swept through like a plague. His heart tightened with the memory.

As he stood in silence, Xia, sensing his troubled thoughts, looked at him carefully, her gaze shifting. "Why did you run here?" she asked, her tone laced with a hint of confusion.

Her eyes shifted back to the horizon, recalling frustrating memories of another time, another person—Lin Yun, who had also once left from this very shore.

Kyorin swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer. He didn't have the words to explain, but he looked at his mother and said, "I want to go out there," pointing towards the distant lands to the south—the Region of Jinzhou, a place far from the quiet isolation of their home.

Xia's expression darkened immediately, her voice sharp. "Don't spout nonsense. You and I are going nowhere. We cannot afford to."

Her words were firm, and Kyorin knew better than to argue. He opened his mouth to suggest selling their stocks, thinking perhaps there was a way to make it work, but the very thought of his mother slapping him again for the suggestion made him go mute.

He didn't dare speak further on it, knowing it would only lead to more tough love. 

So, in silence, he followed her back to the village, Kyorin's mind still recalling those events that would happen in the future, his unspoken words hanging heavily in his chest.

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.

.

The village was bathed in the dimming light of the evening, casting long shadows over the narrow streets.

Xia and Kyorin had just arrived, but the usual peaceful atmosphere of their home seemed to have been replaced by a tense, almost foreboding air.

The village that was once serene now buzzed with unease. Xia, sensing the change, immediately approached one of the village elders.

"Elder, what's the matter?" she asked, her voice steady, though there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.

The elder, a wizened man with a furrowed brow, gazed back at her with a hard expression. "Well, you see, the ceremonial tree..." he began, his voice trailing off, as if he didn't know how to fully explain the situation.

Xia's eyes widened slightly as she listened. "The ceremonial tree ignited into flames?" she asked, disbelief creeping into her voice. The ceremonial tree was the heart of their village, a symbol of their ancestral ties and a source of reverence.

Kyorin's gaze followed his mother's, and instinctively, his thoughts turned to one thing: 'DEVA?'

As if summoned by his very thought, a mechanical voice rang out, sending a chill down Kyorin's spine. "Yes?" the voice purred, teasing him with its smug tone.

Kyorin froze for a moment, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. He glanced around, trying to locate the source of the voice before turning his attention inward. "Wait, what happened? Where had you gone, and why are you inside my head?" he asked, his tone strained but laced with suspicion.

"Oh, worrying about me? How cute," DEVA's voice responded, a hint of mockery in her words. Kyorin felt his irritation flare. His veins throbbed on his forehead as he clenched his jaw.

"What did you do?" he mentally demanded, the words almost escaping in a growl.

DEVA's response was deceptively innocent, but there was an underlying tone of mischief. "Me? Oh no, I didn't do anything. You see, it was Jue who did this."

Kyorin's suspicion grew, a sense of unease settling in his chest. He narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher the truth behind her words. "Did he send us to the past?" he asked, his voice low but sharp.

"Bingo!" DEVA exclaimed, her tone almost cheerful. "You're sharp." The mechanical voice even made a "ding, ding, ding" sound, as if to celebrate Kyorin's understanding.

Kyorin clenched his fists, frustration rising within him. "Why are you inside my head?" he asked again, his voice hoarse with growing anger.

DEVA's voice took on a more casual tone, almost as if she were settling into a new space. "Well, since I've helped you, I believe now that you trust me, right?" she said, her words coated in amusement.

Kyorin scoffed. "That's no reason to invade my mind," he retorted, his tone laced with defiance.

DEVA chuckled softly, the sound faint but still piercing through the silence in Kyorin's head. "I'm staying, no matter what. Plus, I've also lost some energy, so I need to rest a little," she said, her voice growing fainter. "Haha, I'm living a rent-free life inside a cultivator's head."

Kyorin felt her presence slowly fade, the last echo of her words lingering in his mind like a distant murmur. He gritted his teeth, trying to shake off the annoyance that rose within him.

"This is not over," he muttered under his breath, already suspecting that there might be a trick to all this.

Feeling a tug on his hand, Kyorin quickly refocused as the elder spoke, "A misfortune might strike the village." A sense of dread tinging his voice.

Xia remained silent, offering a respectful bow before saying to Kyorin, "Let's go home." Kyorin nodded in response.

As they walked back, Xia glanced at her son, sensing a change in him. "Why do you want to leave this place?" she asked, her voice gentle but filled with concern. "Is life not enjoyable here?" Her eyes softened as she took in his downcast expression.

Kyroin hesitated, the truth of his desire to explore the future and the world beyond his home weighed heavily on him. But how could he explain the strange, inevitable pull he felt to venture out?

He couldn't tell her about the future, about the changes that would come, or the dangers that were lurking. "I just want to broaden my horizons," he said quietly, his voice betraying his uncertainty.

Xia furrowed her brows in understanding. She knew that her son had always been different, that he was stronger, more capable than the other children his age.

It made her proud, yet also left her with a lingering sadness. He had always wanted to connect with others, but his abilities made it difficult.

The other children in the village were too intimidated by his strength to approach him, and so he remained isolated. She had hoped, over time, that he would make friends. But for now, her son's longing for something more was all too clear.

Her gaze hardened slightly, a quiet resolve settling in her heart as the two walked in silence. By the time they reached their dwelling, it was already night as they retreated to the familiar floral hut...

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The next day, the sun had already risen up, clear and bright, painting the sky a brilliant blue. Seagulls called overhead, their wings cutting through the air as soft feathers drifted from their bodies. Kyroin and Xia were aboard a ship, their destination Mt. Firmament, just hours away.

As they sailed, Xia glanced at Kyroin, her voice filled with quiet curiosity. "Are you happy?" she asked, her tone light, but her eyes full of motherly concern.

Kyroin's response was a simple nod. He gazed out over the waves, his thoughts distant, but his silence spoke volumes. Xia sighed softly, her heart aching for her son.

She thought he was simply watching the waves, but there was something deeper in his expression. The sea seemed to resonate with him, its rhythm calling to something inside him that he couldn't quite understand. But why?

Kyroin felt the deep pull of the sea. It was his element, after all, but it was more than that. There was a stirring inside him—a quiet resonance, a connection that went beyond simple elemental affinity.

His heart raced slightly as the waves crashed against the ship, his restlessness growing. There was something about being close to water sources that felt different, something that went beyond simple resonance.

Yet, Kyroin wasn't the only one who sensed something strange. The captain, who had steered the ship with practised ease, was unusually vigilant.

His eyes darted over the water, watching for any signs of danger. 'Why aren't any Tacet Discords attacking?' he thought, the unease growing within him. Something didn't feel right.

It wasn't long before another voice broke the silence in Kyroin's mind. 'Exactly what is your Resonance ability, Kyroin?' DEVA wondered, her mechanical brilliance failing to pinpoint its nature.

Even she couldn't make sense of it, though she had a nagging feeling that in time, the answer would reveal itself.

She had no idea about his previous life, which only made it more difficult to understand the source of his strange connection to the sea or any water source in general. But instead of pushing him for answers, she waited, allowing him the time and space to reveal it on his own.

As the ship sailed on, unperturbed by any Tacet discord or the Wuthering Waves that usually preceded danger, Kyroin's gaze remained fixed on the sea.

He wasn't sure why the sea seemed to call to him so strongly, but he knew that, whatever the reason, it was only a matter of time before he understood it fully.

The voyage continued in peaceful silence, the ship cutting through the waves, heading ever closer to Mt. Firmament and whatever awaited them there...

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'So hungry...'

A small petite figure, draped in ragged clothes, wandered the bustling streets of Hongzhen. The lively crowd parted around her like a sea, avoiding her dishevelled appearance.

She clutched her stomach, a dull ache echoing within as the pangs of hunger gnawed at her resolve. With each step, the streets seemed to stretch longer, as if mocking her. Her thoughts wandered, distant and uncertain: 'Teacher told me to practice discipline, but is this really the way to cultivate it?'

Her yellow eyes, burning with an inner fire yet clouded by hunger, scanned the street with a quiet desperation. The city buzzed around her—vibrant stalls, laughter, and the clatter of carts—but none of it reached her.

Her hands tightened around the edges of her threadbare coat, her chest tightening as her stomach growled in protest.

Just as she thought she could take no more, a rich, tantalizing aroma filled the air, sharp and sweet, warming the cold emptiness within her.

Her head snapped up, and her salmon-pink hair swayed gently in the breeze. Her eyes widened, bright like the first rays of morning sun as she followed the scent.

Before her, stood a stunning woman—graceful, radiant—like she had stepped straight out of a fairytale. She held a tray of freshly steamed Sirutteok (rice cakes), soft and glistening with a delicate sheen.

The woman smiled warmly, her eyes kind, filled with an unspoken understanding of the girl's hunger.

"Oh my, aren't you a little cutie?" The woman's voice was melodic, almost like a lullaby. "Here, have some," she said, extending the tray of rice cakes toward the girl.

To be continued...