CHAPTER 127: PURIFYING HAND

Eirin inhaled, a deep, cleansing breath, a fresh burst of energy filling her. She opened her palms wide, her eyes still closed, and with a powerful, focused act of will, she released a whirlwind, a powerful, swirling vortex of pure, clean wind that tore through the black miasma, shredding it, and letting it go away, back into the sky, but now in a form that was harmless and serene.

Eirin felt the energy release to be satisfying, an act of creation and cleansing that was a pure joy. It was as if she got all the energy in the world, an inexhaustible, endless supply of power. A smile, a genuine smile, formed on her face as she continued releasing her wind into the nest, purifying the air, chasing away the darkness, her body becoming a conduit, a vessel of immense power.

Eirin heaved a sigh. "Nirvana... are you a human too? Like me?"

A soft chuckle escaping Nirvana’s lips, until it turns into a laughter. "Human, huh? I’m not, and so are you. How innocent. Do you believe we who bear such ability, almost like a curse, could be called humans?"

Eirin’s forehead creased. "W-What? I don’t understand what you mean."

Nirvana leaned to Eirin. "You will understand. Just remember, do not trust everyone like I did. They will ruin you. Don’t go through it again, like me. I shall take this burden with me. But you, you may change."

The words kept confusing Eirin, none of it she could understand.

"I shall take my leave,"

Nirvana’s voice, now a soft, fading whisper, finally said.

Hearing that made Eirin open her eyes. "Wait!" she cried out, a heart-wrenching plea escaping her lips. But as soon as she did, as soon as her amber eyes opened, the woman vanished, her form dissolving into a million specks of light that were absorbed into the air, into the pure wind Eirin was releasing. And as her eyes opened, she saw that the miasma, the suffocating oppressive sphere, was starting to disperse, the black mist becoming thinner, more transparent, revealing the world beyond.

Eirin’s eyes blinked a few times, adjusting to the newfound light. "It’s working," she muttered, a disbelieving awe in her voice. Everything became clearer, the suffocating darkness gone, replaced by a grey, hazy mist that was still ominous, but no longer a living, sentient threat. She looked around, and saw a sight that broke her heart.

The Iphans, hundreds of them, were lying all around the nest, their large, majestic forms still, their red eyes closed, their bodies inert. Eirin rushed to them, an urgent need to help filling her. She knelt, her hands trembling as she touched one of the unconscious Iphans, its black, corrupted feathers cold beneath her touch.

"How do I do this?" she whispered to herself, the knowledge of Nirvana’s lesson fresh in her mind. "How do I pull the miasma out of them?" She closed her eyes again, focusing on the Iphan’s corrupted form, and with a conscious act of will, she inhaled, using her hands as a conduit, trying to pull the miasma covering the Iphans away, to draw it into herself.

Eirin’s amber eyes glowed, the same ethereal golden light from before returning, a beacon of cleansing light in the grey mist. She followed the flow of the miasma, the thick, black vapor coming out of the Iphan she touched, a thin, oily stream that was being absorbed by her own body.

"Okay," Eirin muttered, a wave of profound, cleansing heat rushing through her as she absorbed the corruption. "I can do this." She moved from Iphan to Iphan, a tireless, tireless machine of purification, pulling the miasma to herself, a horrifying, beautiful act of self-sacrifice.

"I’m doing it," Eirin continued saying, a mantra of determination, a promise to herself that she would not give up.

But with every Iphan she touched, with every stream of miasma she absorbed, the pressure inside her grew. Her body was not bottomless. Her breathing grew heavier, more frantic, the immense energy she was holding a palpable, dangerous force within her. She realized she needed to release some of the energy, to keep from overloading.

Eirin opened her palm, and with a powerful, instinctive act, she threw a wind blade, a sharp, precise slash of pure wind, into the sky, a streak of light and sound that tore through the miasma. The wind blade shot out of the sphere of miasma, a brilliant, shining beacon of hope that tore through the sky. It was so fast, so precise, but the other students outside the sphere saw it.

"That’s—it’s her Flair!" Trixtan said, his voice filled with a disbelieving awe as he pointed to the sky, his eyes wide with a profound, joyous relief. "Eirin must be inside! It’s her! She’s okay!"

Calixta and Link looked at each other, a shared, silent look of relief and profound hope. The sphere was thinning, the miasma was receding, and they could now slightly see that there was a person, a single, glowing figure, within the heart of the storm.

Trixtan carefully laid the unconscious Shade on the ground, his body a dead weight of pure exhaustion, and stood up, his eyes now fixed on the thinning sphere of miasma. The sight of the sky-blue wind blade, a fleeting but undeniable sign from Eirin, had filled him with a renewed sense of purpose.

"We should go there and save Eirin as fast as we can," Trixtan said, his voice filled with a desperate, urgent energy.

Calixta slapped his arm, a sharp, stinging rebuke that brought him back to reality. "Think, you idiot," she said, her voice a whip of cold logic. "Do you honestly believe we can survive that amount of miasma? Even with my healing powers, I could never cleanse that on my own. It would eat me alive."

Trixtan rubbed his arm in pain, a small, pained grunt escaping his lips. "Why do you have to slap me? You’re so violent." The usual playful banner between them was laced with a serious frantic edge.

Calixta ignored him, her focus fixed on the swirling mist, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. Link simply waited, his face a mask of patient, calculated determination, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of Pierre’s return. They couldn’t just rush towards the miasma, or else they would lose themselves in the process, a sacrifice that would not only be meaningless, but would also leave Eirin alone in her time of need. They had to be smart. They had to be patient.

On the other hand, Eirin continued her tireless, horrifying work. She moved from Iphan to Iphan, a solitary, tireless savior, pulling all the miasma off the tormented creatures, absorbing the darkness into herself, her amber eyes glowing with a faint, steady light. The only thing left was the sphere of miasma that had once covered the whole nest, now just a grey, shimmering haze.

Eirin could feel her breathing growing heavier, the immense, contained energy within her a dangerous pressure. And despite the power flowing through her body, a power that could heal and purify, she could feel her limbs getting all weak, her body a trembling, protesting wreck. She was overflowing, a cup that could no longer hold its contents.

Eirin’s body was growing colder, a deep, bone-chilling cold that had nothing to do with the outside temperature, as she continued absorbing the miasma in the air, a final, desperate act of cleansing. "Leva!" she called her companion’s name, her voice a strained, pained whisper, her eyes getting all blurry, the world around her becoming a hazy, indistinct watercolor of greys and blues.

The Iphans were cured from their eternal nightmares, their forms now pure and majestic, but they continued sleeping, a deep, exhausted slumber, on the nest, recovering from the psychic and physical assault they had endured for so long.

"Child..." A voice, now clear and filled with warmth, came to her. It was not a voice in her head, but a voice from the outside, a low, melodic sound that was filled with relief and gratitude.

Eirin immediately looked around, searching for Leva’s direction. The world was still blurry, but she could see a shape, a familiar form of a bird, and she ran towards her, stumbling in her haste, her weak limbs protesting with every step.

Leva lay on the ground, her massive form a picture of serene majesty. When Leva looked around the nest, a place that had been a living hell of miasma and despair, she chuckled, a sound of relief and gratitude.

"You did it, child. You saved us all. You saved my people," Leva said, her voice now a powerful, clear song.

Tears, hot and fast, welled in Eirin’s eyes, a sense of relief and exhaustion washing over her. She smiled, a beautiful, genuine smile of triumph, and hugged the majestic bird, burying her face in the soft, pure feathers.

"You’re fine," Eirin whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I’ll help you. I’ll make sure you get all the way back to your usual self." She used all the remaining strength in her body, a final, desperate act of will, to absorb all the remnants of the miasma all over the place, cleaning the last pockets of darkness from the nest.