CHAPTER 126: NIRVANA

"Close your eyes, Eirin."

A gentle, unfamiliar voice of a woman, a voice that was not Leva’s, a voice that was not the miasma’s, but something entirely new, whispered into Eirin’s ears. It was a voice filled with a deep comfort, a soft breeze of calm in the midst of the hurricane.

Its gentleness was so profound, so utterly out of place in this realm of pain, that it caused Eirin to follow the command without a second thought. She closed her eyes, the blue light of her own mana fading back into herself, and as she did, a woman with long and straight black hair reaching above her waist, elegance in her posture, appeared in front of her, floating in the air.

Her eyes, a vibrant, crystalline amethyst, glowed with a powerful light that was the very opposite of the miasma’s corruption. She was beautiful, ethereal, a vision of absolute serenity and power. She held out her hand, a soft, inviting gesture, and as she held Eirin’s hand, a warm, comforting light suffused Eirin’s entire being, pushing back the cold, oppressive whispers of the miasma.

Eirin was no longer alone. She stood in the heart of the miasma, her eyes closed, her hand still clasped in the pale, ethereal hands of the woman. The air, which had moments ago been a suffocating weight of whispers and dread, now felt oddly serene. The woman’s touch was a source of calm, a silent, powerful force that pushed back against the miasma’s relentless assault.

The woman, a vision of otherworldly grace, looked at Eirin’s face, her head tilted slightly, her luminous amethyst eyes seeming to scan every feature, to see not just the girl, but her very soul, her past, her present, and her terrifying, world-altering future. She closed Eirin’s hand with her own, a gentle, reassuring gesture, her fingers like cool, smooth stone against Eirin’s trembling skin.

"Breathe," the woman’s voice, a soft, musical whisper that resonated only in Eirin’s mind, broke the profound silence. "Use your mouth and suck the air in. And when you feel like you’re about to exhale, do not release it. Swallow it in." The command, though simple, was strange.

Eirin, trusting this mysterious woman without question, followed her directions. She parted her lips, taking a deep, deliberate breath, and felt a strange, cold energy rush into her. As the air filled her lungs, a familiar, creeping sensation began to spread, the miasma attempting to latch onto her, to poison her. But then, she obeyed the second part of the command.

Instead of exhaling, she forced the energy down, a conscious, internal act of will. The miasma, instead of tainting her, was consumed by her very essence. She continued doing it, a rhythmic cycle of inhalation and internal consumption. With every breath, every act of consumption, she felt a great, exhilarating change.

The scrapes on her knees, the sharp pain that had lingered, began to fade, the skin knitting itself back together with a strange, impossible speed. Even the dull, aching pain in her ears, the result of the miasma’s sonic assault, began to vanish, the damage dealing from within. It was as if she was swallowing pure energy, a powerful healing force that mended her from the inside out, restoring her not just to health, but to a state of being she had never experienced before.

The mysterious woman’s amethyst eyes continued glowing with a deep, knowing light as she looked around them. The black, swirling mist of miasma, once a suffocating sphere of oppression, was now noticeably subsiding, pulled inward, consumed by Eirin’s relentless breathing.

"Good,"

the woman said, a faint, approving smile gracing her lips. "You’re doing good."

"What is it? What am I doing?" Eirin questioned the unknown woman, her voice filled with a breathless awe. She had never felt anything like this before. It was an ability that defied everything she had never known about.

The woman’s gaze landed on Eirin, her eyes, though otherworldly, now held empathy. "You’re doing what you were always meant to do... no, it was something they wanted us to do," she said, her voice a soft, comforting song.

Eirin’s forehead creased, a frown of confusion on her face. Her eyes were still closed, and she paused from inhaling and swallowing the air, the rhythmic cycle of power breaking for a moment. "What is it? How am I doing it?" she pressed, a sudden need for answers, for understanding the overriding the blissful feeling of the healing.

The woman, with a graceful, fluid motion that was not quite a step, but not quite a float, flipped her beautiful, long black hair. Her pure white dress, a contrast of absolute purity against the malevolent darkness, grazed the black ground, but not a single thread was tainted by the miasma. She circled Eirin, her presence a protective, warm halo in the suffocating cold.

"You are a catalyst. A vessel. You are a living barrier between the miasma and this world. You must absorb it all. To consume it, rather than be consumed by it. It is your gift. It is your burden." The woman’s tone changed, it was as if she was merely repeating words she had heard before. Her words carried knowledge Eirin could not begin to fathom.

Eirin gulped, the cold, hard reality of the woman’s words finally sinking in. "How did I get that ability? I... I’ve never heard of anything like this before. Is there a possibility you know the reason why? Do you... do you know me?" Her voice, soft and timid, was filled with fresh fear, a sudden, horrifying realization of her own monstrous nature. "And... may I open my eyes now?" she asked, a small, hopeful plea, as if opening her eyes would break the spell, would make all of this go away.

"No, you may not," the woman said, the command firm, but not unkind. "Not yet."

Eirin followed what the woman said, her eyes remaining tightly shut. But the questions, the desperate need for answers, continued to pour out of her. "May I at least know your name? Do you also possess the same ability? Is that why you can survive here too? In the middle of the miasma?"

The woman stared at Eirin, observing her from head to toe, her luminous eyes a silent, ancient well of knowledge. She seemed to be weighing her answer, considering every word.

"Name? Nirvana, that is what they call me, yes,"

she said, her voice a low, melodic hum. "Yes, I do bear the same ability. That is the only reason I can stand here with you now."

Hearing that made a desperate, fragile hope bloom in Eirin’s heart. Hope to learn from this mysterious woman, to understand this terrifying power that had been thrust upon her.

"Then... then maybe you can help me learn how to control this ability. How to master it! No one told me anything about this. The academy, my friends... they don’t know. And I don’t even know how I got this... grandma! Maybe grandma knows—but she’s not here. I have no one to ask." The final words, a desperate, pained whisper, an admission of her loneliness, hung in the air, thick with an unspoken sadness.

The beautiful woman floated in the air, a silent, graceful dance in the darkness. She rested her chin on her pale palm, tilting her head slightly, her gaze fixed on Eirin with a deep, unsettling sadness, as if she were looking at a ghost.

"I cannot help you. Not in the way you think," the woman said, her voice a sorrowful whisper. "Because the moment you open your eyes, the moment you return to your consciousness, I will vanish."

Eirin’s forehead creased in confusion. "What? Why?" The question, a cry of a child lost in the dark, held a desperate terror. "You can’t leave! I need you! You’re the only one who can help me!"

"What you must remember," Nirvana said, ignoring Eirin’s desperate plea. Her voice, though still gentle, became a firm, unwavering command. "In front of miasma, do not fret. Do not panic. Do not let the darkness consume you. You must consume it instead. It is the only way to survive." The woman didn’t answer Eirin’s question, instead, she gave her a vague, but important answer, a single, vital lesson for the coming storm.

"Continue inhaling it all in," she commanded, her ethereal hand moving from Eirin’s hand to her chest, a warm, comforting pressure against her beating heart. And should it come to pass that you feel as if you shall burst, if the might become too great to hold, let your mana loose."

"How do I do that?" Eirin asked, her voice a small, bewildered whisper.

The woman chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that was pure joy in the grim, silent world of the miasma. "This version of you is not the best, you must be aware." Her voice sounded taunting, but Eirin did not understand what she meant. She was speaking in riddles, in an ancient language that Eirin’s mind could not decipher.

"Use your elemental skill," Nirvana clarified, her voice now a clear, guiding light. "Release water, wind, anything. That is how you prevent yourself from overloading with the energy. You release the pressure, the excess energy. You give it back to the world, but in its pure form."