By the time Zhihao stumbled across an inn, dawn was casting long shadows on the dirt road ahead of him. It sat at the far end of a bridge that crossed what had become a fast flowing river, dangerous to cross anywhere else. It seemed a prime location, but also a dangerous one, ripe for bandits who might see a lone inn as easy pickings. Zhihao knew this because it was exactly the sort of place he made his name robbing. He stumbled across the wooden bridge, clutching the railing for support, and frequently wiping at his face and wondering when it had gotten quite so hot. The stabbing pain in his chest wasn't helping things, and the pounding headache had put him in a truly foul mood.
At last Zhihao reached the inn, struggling for breath and barely strong enough to push against the wooden door. It didn't budge. Even after he leaned his full weight against it and slumped down to the ground, still the door remained shut.
"It's locked," said an old man with thin grey hair. He wore a dirt stained apron, and held a small trowel as though it might serve as a weapon, pointed at Zhihao. "Closed. Rumour has it Flaming Fist is nearby again. The inn is closed until they pass. No sense putting the family in danger."
Zhihao struggled to pull himself up on the door frame, and then gasped in a breath that set his chest stinging with pain all over again. The sun was rising in the east, back from where he had come, and it shone with a blinding brilliance. It took a lot of effort to push himself away from the door and start back towards the bridge. As he walked past, the old man backed away, farther into a garden sprouting green corner to corner. The thought occurred to Zhihao, he should probably knock the man senseless and steal his food, but it would require stopping, and he was feeling slightly less pain with every step back towards Kaishi.
"Hey!" the old man shouted once Zhihao had gone more than a few steps. "You're bleeding."
Zhihao looked down at his chest and saw a stain of blood leaking out into his tunic, right where the Century Blade had stabbed him.
Chapter 5
It wasn't the silence that grated on Cho, she quite liked the quiet. Nor was it the road they took, with Kiashi, the site of her latest utter failure, to the south and in easy view on her right. What bothered Cho most was the pace. Ein was a young boy with small legs and he seemed in no hurry, calmly plodding along down the dirt road on bare feet, his eyes staring towards the rising sun. Cho had to slow herself to keep pace with him, and that meant a meandering walk that had her feet aching from the journey.
They'd barely spoken to each other since The Emerald Wind had returned from the dead and run away. Cho had stated quite firmly that they were better off without him, and she stood by the opinion. Ein had declared the bandit would soon return and it was well past time they got going. He chose a path that led around Kaishi, skirting the city rather than winding through it. Cho guessed it would add a day at least to their journey, but she didn't mind. She was still feeling some after-effects from being brought back from the dead, the most concerning of all being a fuzziness of head that made her teeth feel like they were vibrating. It was hard to gauge whether it was normal or not, since she had never heard of anyone coming back before.
In the quiet of feet scuffing dirt and cool breeze stirring the grass, Cho tried to remember what it was like being dead. There were dozens of opinions on what happened after death, most of which were passed around by one religion or another, but the stars taught that a fathomless void awaited all those who died: an eternal drifting, alone and apart from everything and everyone. If that was the truth, it seemed like a good incentive to stay alive no matter the cost. But Cho couldn't remember anything. One moment she had been screaming, steel blades piercing her chest, and the next she was silently screaming at Ein. There had been nothing in between. Unless there had. She couldn't help but feel she was missing something, a memory of… somewhere else.
Ein stepped on a sharp stone in the road that pierced the skin of his heel and left him trailing blood. The boy didn't even seem to notice, so set he was on the eastern horizon. Cho pulled him to a stop and they moved to the grass. She sat him down and poured some water over his foot, he was bleeding, but not badly. His feet were a mess of scars, recent and barely healed.
"Oh." Ein pulled a face, then fished in his little pack for his needle.
"You can't just sew it."
Ein poked at his foot. "But the wound needs closing."
"You may have… fixed my wounds while I was dead, but it will hurt." Cho sighed. "I have some spare bandages. We'll wrap it and find you some shoes."
"I can't wear shoes," Ein said. "It was part of the deal with the shinigami. I gained the power to bring people back, on the condition I carry out his judgement on a man. And that I don't wear any shoes. I don't know why he hates shoes so much."
Cho pulled a small strip of bandage from her own pack and turned to find Ein pushing his little needle through his skin. There wasn't as much blood as she had expected.
"Don't you feel that?"
"Yes," Ein nodded, but kept his eye on the needle. "It hurts."
"Most children would scream at pain."
He looked at her then, his terrifying gaze like burning metal heated white. "I'm not most children," he said sombrely.
Cho couldn't stop the shudder that passed through her, nor could she say why it came. It was almost as though the world around the boy was a little darker. Life seemed less vibrant. He claimed he had seen a shinigami, spoken to it and made a deal with death itself. Somehow Cho doubted that the only condition the god imposed was bare feet.
"At least let me wrap them when you're done."
Ein shook his head. "I must remain barefoot." He looked up and gave an apologetic smile. "It's the rules."
She tore her gaze from the boy to look back down the road, a tall man was staggering toward them. He was clearly on the verge of collapse, out of breath and stumbling every other step. Even from a distance, Cho recognised him easily enough.
"There is a foul stench up wind from us," she said.
Ein looked up from stitching his wound shut. "I told you he would come back."
"I didn't deny it. I just said I hoped he wouldn't."
The Emerald Wind staggered closer, his jog slowing to a lurch. His face was pale and his dark hair lank with sweat. He had a hungry look about him, like a wolf gone too long without a meal. It was a look Cho knew well.
"What did you do to me?" The Emerald Wind shouted as he drew near.
"I brought you back." Ein was still pushing the little needle through the flesh of his foot. "It really isn't that hard to understand. You were dead. Now you are not."
The Emerald Wind staggered to a halt and doubled over, his hands on his knees, dripping sweat onto the dirt. "I started bleeding."
"Yes." Ein didn't even look up at the man. "I brought you back. You are bound to me. You have to stay close." He looked up then, cold eyes boring into The Emerald Wind. "You are bound to me for as long as I live."
"Excellent." The Emerald Wind straightened and drew one of his hooked swords. He was so tired the lunge was sluggish. Peace whispered as it slid out of its saya and Cho blocked the lazy strike, both swords ringing as they clashed. Ein did not so much as flinch.