Aarin woke up somewhere surprisingly warm, especially compared to the chill of the chasm.
Whatever this place was, it couldn't be where he had lost consciousness. No voice tried to invade his mind, and no darkness pulled at his soul.
Body protesting, he sat up slowly. His head still throbbed with exhaustion, and his limbs felt heavy.
He noticed he was lying on something soft. When he looked down, he realized he wasn't lying on the floor. Instead, silk fabric had been neatly arranged like a makeshift mat. Above him, a partially intact ceiling let in gentle streams of light. The walls around were cracked but stable. Behind him, on a pedestal, stood a broken statue of Akash, the King of Gods. Dusty incense bowls and rotten fruits lay at its feet.
"You're awake."
Nirvan sat by what remained of a window, watching the gray city beyond. He was naked above the waist, Aarin realized absent-mindedly. The ghost had placed his cloth underneathAarin so he could rest on it.
As the reaper was slowly grappling with that fact, Nirvan quickly moved to Aarin's side and placed a hand on his shoulder to still his movements.
"How long was I unconscious?" Aarin's voice came out rough.
"About a few hours. It's almost midday now," Nirvan said softly. "You pushed yourself too hard."
The ghost's eyes were wider than usual, lower lip pushed out in a… pout?
"I'm sorry," Aarin apologized quietly.
"It's alright." Nirvan held up his jug of water. "Drink. You need to rehydrate before we attempt anything else."
"The chasm," Aarin muttered as he accepted it, "I can still feel it from here, but it isn't nearly as bad. Where is this?"
"A temple," Nirvan hummed. "I figured it'd be best, given our circumstances."
Aarin nodded as a shiver ran down his spine.
"These souls aren't normal. Not even normal corruption could make them this powerful."
"It's the chasm," Nirvan said without hesitation. Aarin blinked, surprised by the promptness.
"You know what it is, then?"
"It's complicated, I'm not completely sure myself," the ghost muttered. "But the point is that they're resentful, and they know how to exploit you."
Aarin looked down at his hands. Weak. He clenched his fingers into weak fists.
"You felt nothing?"
Nirvan shook his head, and his expression hardened. Aarin could feel the anger radiating from him, so he hesitantly placed a hand on the ghost's shoulder.
"It just means we must cleanse it."
"Yes," Nirvan agreed. "I fear with the way things played out earlier, exorcising these souls won't be particularly easy."
Aarin knew that. Exorcisms were hard enough. These souls had already shown how strong and hostile they were.
Even being near the chasm had nearly consumed him. So using himself as a conduit to resolve the lingering pain of such magnitude…
"I have to try." Aarin gritted his teeth. "Those souls have been suffering for centuries. They were friends once. I have to free them."
Nirvan was quiet for a long moment, his dark eyes studying Aarin's face. Aarin didn't let any signs of doubt or fear bleed through to his face. "You can't do it. They have already pierced your mind. What is to say they'll fail now?"
"I'll have you by my side this time." Aarin clasped Nirvan's hands, unable to help the desperation in his voice. "I don't care how, but I must. It's my duty. I- I must repent."
Nirvan's eyes widened momentarily before his shoulders slumped. He let out a soft sigh, staring at his hands in Aarin's.
"I have an idea," he finally conceded.
"I'm listening," Aarin sighed, relieved.
"You can't go around exorcising every single spirit here," Nirvan continued. "With the concentration of souls, it's clear something is holding them together."
"I thought so too," Aarin nodded. "That's why we're here in the first place. To investigate the cause."
"You will try to find the core, then." Nirvan rested his head on his palm. "The corruption will try to divert your attention, make you see and hear things that aren't there."
"I'm aware," Aarin responded bitterly.
"So you must trust me…" The ghost trailed off. Aarin stared, confused, before realization finally hit.
"You don't-"
"It's the only way," Nirvan said resolutely.
"I can't let you-" Aarin tried.
"You've stood between me and danger for the entirety of my mortal life," Nirvan interrupted him. "Let me repay you. Please."
Aarin looked away, not knowing how to face such sincerity.
"...Alright."
They prepared as the sun reached its peak.
Aarin couldn't see or hear a thing. Before leaving the temple, Nirvan had blindfolded him and stuffed his ears with cotton. Aarin held onto Nirvan's arm, unsure of the path they were taking. They moved slowly, carefully. Nirvan never tried to hold him, though Aarin knew it would've made the walk easier. He appreciated the space, and yet he wished for the alternative.
Without his sight or hearing, he could feel everything else more clearly. The cold wind bit his skin, and he could smell old blood and rain. He held Nirvan's arm tighter.
Abruptly, Aarin felt a pull at his chest, and they stopped.
The ghost by his side squeezed his palm. They were finally there.
Aarin felt a hand gently rest on his shoulder and an arm wrap around his waist. Nirvan waited until Aarin nodded before lifting him. It was disorienting, but he didn't protest, only a short gasp escaping his lips. He blindly wrapped his arms around Nirvan's chest, holding on for dear life, as the ghost leapt before dropping straight down.
Many things could go wrong. Aarin didn't even have his spear, his senses were dimmed, and he was completely and utterly defenseless-
I trust him.
Aarin let out a sharp gasp once he felt impact. They'd hit the bottom. He reached for what he thought was Nirvan's face and tapped his cheek twice.
"I'm ready," he muttered. It was jarring, not being able to hear his own voice, but he had a feeling this was barely the start of what was to come.
He felt Nirvan lean forward until their foreheads touched, and though in any other case he'd recoil, he revelled in the warmth.
It was all so very cold; he needed all he could get if he wanted a chance to survive.
Aarin let go of Nirvan, trusting the ghost wouldn't drop him, and clasped his hands in prayer.
"In the name of Niryati…"
Immediately, shrieks pierced his mind, memories and thoughts that weren't his own flooding his consciousness.
It had begun.