Chapter 9: The Spirit Of Memory

The sun barely filtered through the thick mist that veiled the shrine. Ivy crept like veins over the crumbling stone walls, and the once-sacred place reeked of rot and forgotten prayers. 

Yan stood at the entrance, hugging himself as the cold seeped into his bones. His voice came out in a hush.

"... Lin. This place feels wrong." 

Lin didn't look back. He pushed open the creaking doors, the wood groaning like it hadn't been disturbed in decades. "Then don't follow." 

But Yan grabbed the edge of his cloak and walked faster to stay beside him. "I'm coming. You'll probably die without me." 

The shrine door groaned open under Lin's push.

Dust danced in the air, lit by thin beams of dying sunlight slipping through the cracks in the stone walls. Inside , the space was dead silent no birds, no wind, just a quiet that felt to deep, like the forest was holding it's breath.

Yan hesitated at the threshold, then stepped in, clinging to Lin's cloak like a nervous shadow. His voice was a trembling whisper.

"This place feels...wrong."

Lin didn't answer. His eyes were already locked on the altar at the center low, cracked and ancient. At it's heart sat a jagged black stone, pulsing slowly. Like a heart. Like something alive.

"Let's not stay here," Yan whispered again. "Please."

But the stone cracked.

A shriek pierced the air sharp and unnatural as smoke burst out of the stone, swirling into a towering, faceless wraith made of memory and shadow. It's shifting body screamed without mouths, moaning with the fragments of voices, painful, human, broken.

The spirit's gaze landed on Yan.

"You... reek of sorrow," it whispered " You have suffered. Great." 

Tendrils of smoke whipped toward Yan.

Lin stepped forward instantly, but the air around the altar flared. A barrier, nearly invisible, crackled to life. Lin body slammed back with a crackling shockwave. He hit the stone floor hard, skidding until his shoulder thudded into the wall. 

"Yan!" 

But Yan was already caught.

The smoke wrapped around him like chains.

His eyes went wide, then fogged over.

The spirit whispered," Let the pain return."

Yan had flashbacks of his childhood.

A burning house.

His mother's voice, screaming his name.

His father's blood stained hand.

The heat. The screams. The smoke.

Yan fell to his knees, clutching his head.

"Make it stop!" he cried " Mom... Dad... Lin... Please don't leave me alone!"

His body convulsed.

Black lines spread across his skin, pulsing, crawling like veins of corruption. His back arched. He gasped for air, claws tearing at the ground as his body began to twist and shift into something monstrous.

Lin forced himself up, ignoring the sting of his burned palm.

He reached the barrier again but it sparked , pushing him back with another shock. His teeth clenched. 

Inside, Yan's body had transformed. 

Long limbs, darkened flesh, glowing red eyes. His breaths came in shallow snarls. The thing that had Yan lookep up right at Lin.

Then, it lunged.

Lin didn't flinch.

"... Yan" 

The monster stopped, if only for a second. 

"Yan" Lin repeated softly, voice steady.

"You're not alone."

The creature froze , body twitching. 

Lin took one slow step forward. 

"Come back." 

The monster's eyes flickered. 

And then it fell crashing to the stone floor in a heap.

The barrier shattered with a loud, breaking sound.

The spirit shrieked, furious. "You will not steal my vessel !"

Lin stepped into the circle without hesitation. Smoke surged toward him, slashing like blades. 

He didn't back down.

Dodging the tendrils, he gripped the black stone still pulsing on the altar.

"You feed on pain," Lin growled, "then choke on mine." 

He smashed the stone into the altar with full force. A burst of light exploded, and the spirit screamed, unraveling into shreds of smoke before vanishing into the air like ash.

Silence returned.

Only the sound of Yan's shallow breaths remained.

Lin stood over him, bruised, blood trickling from his hand.

Wordless, he bent down and gently lifted Yan over his shoulder. The boy was light. Too light.

Outside the shrine, night had fallen. Lin carried him deep into the trees, finding shelter under a rocky ledge. 

He laid Yan down gently, then knelt beside him.

Pulling herbs from a pouch, he ground them between his fingers and pressed them gently to Yan's chest where the veins had darkened.

"You're reckless," he muttered under his breath.

Yan didn't respond.

"...But I'll keep you alive." 

The fire crackled quietly as the herbs worked.

Above them, the moon hung heavy. Cold and pale.

And besides it the shrine stood silent, emptied of it's ghost but not it's grief.