Chapter Text
Wei Wuxian was tired, so very tired. His eyes were dark, and baggy. Skin pale and dry. As if his own life had been drained from him. Looking down at the floor, hair hanging and obscuring his face like a curtain. Hands stained in blood, both old and fresh. With quick motion he dragged his crimson hands across the floor creating intricate symbols. An idea that has been in his head since the beginning. His newest and last creation. Made with the fuel of his own self-hatred and the everlasting burn of revenge he held against all those that wronged him. It was madness. Yet, it was the only thing left to do. His scarred figure crawled towards the center placing with shaking hands the amulet that started it all in the middle.
He stood up, or at least tried to. He failed the first time, catching himself palms first against the harsh stone floor. Grabbing the dagger, slowly he carved deep lines onto his skin, making scribbles of words down his arms, legs, and chest, anywhere he could reach really. These words were also similar to talisman inscriptions that would enhance the array binding it to his own flesh and blood.
The world had taken everything from him. His family, Wen Qing, Wen Ning, Uncle Four…A-Yuan. They were gone. Killed. The world never gave them a chance. Those he cared for that lived, despised him, a whisper, they abandoned us, it said.
He couldn’t blame them.
LIES.
He could blame them.
He…he..
Fine. He thought. If they wanted him gone. He’ll go.
He said a few words causing the symbols to hum and glow an ominous red that filled the whole cave in an eerie light. And then-
A huge explosion could be seen by Yiling and the nearest sects. The news spread like fire, The Yiling Patriarch was dead.
Some were angered, they mourned him, those few knew him, truly. A good majority of those who did happen to reside in Yiling. While the masses were pleased, happy, and joyous at the news, but also confused. Who and what killed him? The most feared in the cultivation world.
Rumors spread that it was the man’s closest companion, Sect Leader Jiang. Upon hearing these rumors, The sect leader outright refuted them but said no more.
In truth, The man was angry. Angry at himself. This shouldn’t have happened. If he hadn’t let him go. If he had kept him close, maybe just maybe, his brother would not be gone from this world.
He and his sister mourned him despite all that had happened. His sister was hit hard by the news, seemingly lifeless. The only thing keeping her going was her brother and her son.
They gave him a proper burial though could it ever be proper if they couldn’t even recover his body. The ceremony was held privately in Yunmeng. Hanguang-jun was given an invitation by the Widowed Lady Jiang. He showed despite his circumstances. Giving his respects and holding his sorrow at losing the man he loved.
The Jiang Sect Leader made a thorough search of the mounds.
Upon arrival, they were met with a sight of absolute destruction. There was nothing to salvage. It was completely in ruins. Regret was heavy in the man’s heart. Anger once again fueled him. Why did Wei Wuxian have to choose them? Why did he leave him, when he promised he would stay by his side? Why didn't he realize that this would be his doom? Why!?
Sadness made its way through the bitter anger. Again his mind was filled with regrets.
If he had done better, if he had gotten to him in time, if he was there for him. Maybe his brother would still be alive…
But now, he’s gone.
Forever.
And there’s nothing he can do.
Many cultivators came together in an attempt to summon the Yiling Patriarch back but no matter what they did, no response came.
The same could be said for another man. Alone in his misery.
Lan Wangji. Scarred both physically and emotionally.
He played inquiry every night in hopes of getting a response.
Yet to no avail, no matter what he did. Regardless of how many times he tried.
Noone answered. Noone ever did. Despite this, he never stopped for many years. And he never forgot. Still he wasn’t alone. Wen Yuan was with him and he would protect him. No matter the cost.
…
His vision was blurred when he woke. Rubbing his sleep deprived eyes, he sat up. Looking around his surroundings.
They were..unfamiliar.
Where..how…Why? These questions filled his mind.
Because the last time he checked, he should be dead.
So why wasn’t he?
Bringing his arm up to the deep cuts that marred his skin, still clear as day to anyone that may catch a glimpse. Most of them were dried while a few still remained fresh.
His head felt like bursting but he felt like crying. It did not mix very well.
One moment he was trying to wrap his head around the fact that he wasn't dead, clutching it as the bursts of pain seemed to flood in. The next he was crying, head in his arms as he laid forward on the grass
Couldn't he just get a break?! Was it such a hard thing to ask for?! His thoughts raged on.
Why?
He hit the floor without effort. Lazy with the tears that fell from his tired eyes.
Why?
Another hit, his hands bruised due to the addition of applied force.
“WHY!!?” His screams filled the forest and his hands left an imprint on the grass, as if life had been drained from the former patches of green. Scorched with death.
Black smoke seemed to explode from his form, emitting out of him like a wildfire that burned erratically. Heavy was his form, he collapsed onto the ground.
He had cried himself to sleep and there was no peace in his dreams.
…
It was only after a few days when his body finally made him get up. Desperately seeking to end the pain that was starvation.
It was at this time that he came across his first encounter with this land's inhabitants.
They were not pleasant.
Whatever the creature was, it possessed no intelligence. Only wanting to kill him and eat him.
He drew his flute to his dry lips.
The creature did not last very long, as it contorted itself in and out. Its organs draped the trees beside it. With dull and uninterested eyes, Wei Ying left, still seeking to end the pain that was his hunger.
Fortunately, a man had seen the entire event, perhaps a hunter that had seeked to kill the creature himself. He was gawking at the demonic cultivator. Understandable.
Upon meeting the man, he learned that he did not speak the same language as him. So the starving cultivator did his best to relay some form of communication with the man by using body language. Pointing to his stomach and mouth while rubbing his stomach in hopes of the man understanding his gestures.
The man had looked at his form, concerned, at least he thinks its concern as it made its way to the man’s eyes. He didn’t blame the man for staring at him. He probably looked like a corpse. With relative calmness the man seemed to understand and nodded with a gesture to come with him.
He did not say anything else even when the man mumbled unfamiliar words. Eyes hollow, he didn’t even care if he was heading towards his death.
If he could just sate his hunger, that was enough.
…
It’s been some time since his death or rather his arrival.
If you asked how long it's been, he couldn’t say, he wasn’t sure himself. He didn’t really care.
The fact was he was alive which was quite the opposite of what he wanted. It had taken him some time to accept it. Much to his disappointment. So he decided to at least try to live with the second chance he had been given.
He concluded that the array took him somewhere. As to where, he didn’t know. What he did know was that this place was faraway, as everyone he came across couldn’t even begin to understand him. Though they also didn’t run away in fear at the sight of him so he would call that a win in his book.
There also seems to be an abnormal amount of resentful creatures or whatever they were called here. Though not all of them were bad he supposed but most of them did try to kill him on more than one occasion. And he says try because they failed.
Whatever these creatures were, he saw that they were sometimes intelligent. Aware of what they were doing, taking note of their pausing and changing features when it comes to hearing some form of speech. There were a few that reminded him of Wen Ning in a way, except Wen Ning was perfectly harmless when it came to most things.
He made a decent living off helping villagers despite not understanding them. He used body language quite a lot to get through to them, thankfully most were kind and responded similarly. He also protected the villages that he occupied, the villagers seemed to smile and clap so he assumed they were happy. He made no effort to ask for things. Even so they gave him food, clothes, and anything they felt like giving to him. He considered himself fortunate to receive really anything, so he would smile and bow in thanks in a similar fashion of what he has seen others of this land do when it came to thanking. It was an easy gesture to understand that he was grateful.
After staying for a week or so in one village, he’d continue on traveling from place to place letting fate guide him to wherever.
He managed to learn some words on his journey, sometimes the villagers took pity and decided to educate him in the best way they could with few but important words. It was a nice sentiment that he appreciated and took to heart. Though he never stayed long in one place, no matter how kind they were. He learned the hard way, don’t keep people close.
Wei Ying made a hobby out of performing from time to time in large places. Usually markets and brothels. He applied songs from his own culture and played them frequently, catching the many eyes and ears of people who were willing to listen. He’d usually gather a crowd and they’d throw money at him.
It took him some time adjusting to this foreign land. As not only was the language different but so was the culture, clothes, and mannerisms. He had to admit it was..nice. It made him think less of…
He blocked the memories, laying back as he was currently in a farmer’s wagon. He paid him for a ride, using few words of the farmer’s language. Simply asking where the farmer was going, and the man replied with one word he did recognize, “town”. Holding out a small bag of coins and saying, “take me,” the farmer accepted gladly.
Despite the almost ragged state the demonic cultivator was in, he was wearing clothes that could be considered slightly above good quality though they were quite worn. Given to him as a gift from a nobleman after he saved the man and his company from an attack. His body was wrapped in black sarashi, covering himself from the neck down. While his kimono matched in color, as both his haori and hakama were back as well. He wore no shoes, finding them a hassle to maintain as they were not sturdy enough in a fight. He found himself liking this form of wear, simple and less. He could breathe unlike what he used to wear on an everyday outing before…
Looking up at the sky, he pondered just for a bit. Things were so different once upon a time.
The wagon came to a halt all of sudden. Raising his head to check what’s wrong, the farmer had stumbled off the wagon and ran towards the village.
It was on fire.
And with that, he followed.
…
He was able to get a considerable amount of people out from the burning flames. Unfortunately not all were able to escape and even those that did were scarred with serious burns. Luckily not all the village was lost in the fire. They would be able to rebuild.
He was thanked by the families of those whom he saved. They tried to reward him but he denied them and gestured towards the families and their village.
“Keep. Save.” Were his exact words.
They thanked him once again. The farmer he had traveled with earlier came rushing back with a blanket and a drawstring bag. It was minimally filled with wood.
“For the cold.” The man said.
He smiled, grateful and went on his way.
Continuing his routine of travel. He simply went wherever he was guided. Sometimes he found himself resting in a forest against a tree, other times he was in an inn. He never truly rested though. No, sleep was never kind for long.
All was going relatively well.
He went to a market to buy more sarashi as his wounds seemed to not fair well being wrapped in the same cloth for long periods of time.
Nothing too out of the ordinary if you considered fighting monsters from time to time, normal. Living his life like it was last. Drinking, breathing, and alone.
He stopped walking when he heard screaming from up ahead.
Without hesitation he ran towards the screams. The sounds became louder as he grew closer only to see a bunch of men, no...not men but they were male. They were humanoid and similar to the creatures he’s come across before. One of them was holding a little girl by their wrist.
"Enough. You will come with us. Lord Sesshomaru will pay us handsomely to get you back."
Two of the men cackled.
"Liar! My Lord isn't stupid! He wouldn't come for me!"
"What did you say girl!?"
"Lord Sesshomaru is smart, he won't fall for your trap!" She snapped back.
One of the men slapped her.
He saw all he needed to see. Pulling out his dizi, he began to play.
…
Their screams were loud but they did not last long, no one ever did. Their minds were breaking and their eyes bled in black. Their corpses were shriveled and dry.
He then crouched down in front of the girl and offered his hands since his words wouldn't help much in this scenario.
She leaned her head to the side in confusion and without fear, slowly gave her hands to him. "Did you save me, Sir?" She asked. Hearing the words ‘save’ and ‘me’, he nodded. He then patted her head gently. She looked up and smiled at him. "Thank you!"
Why was she here all by herself? Did she lose her parents to these creatures? The questions entered his head as he tried to figure out what to do as he couldn’t just leave her.
He was about to attempt communicating with her when he heard a shuffling sound behind him. Instinctively he went into a protective stance in front of the girl.
The trees swayed and stepping into the light was a man.
No.
Not a man. Well, yes a man, but not human.
He was surprised by their appearance.
His thoughts fumbled at the sight of him.
He was…breathtaking.
"Lord Sesshomaru!" The girl ran to the man. She seemed to be going to hug his leg when she stopped suddenly and gave a light bow instead and only then proceeded to hug his leg.
The scene gave him memories that have been distant in his mind for sometime. Stop.
He’s gone.
He shook them away as they were too painful to bear.
"Rin." The man responded in a rich voice. Looking down at her and then to him. The look was not kind either.
"My Lord, he wasn't the one who took me. It was bad men. And he killed them! But I don't think he can speak." She started gleefully, only to then sound unsure. Sesshomaru eyed the man who saved Rin. This husk of a human killed a bunch of yokai.
Interesting, the daiyokai thought.
Wei Ying on the other hand was still staring at the beautiful man even after his previous thoughts.
"Um." Was all the demonic cultivator could say, causing the demon to raise an eyebrow. It was rather amazing, he thought, how the man looked both aloof and perhaps a mixture of something he could not quite identify at the same time with just the position of his eyebrow.
Alas. His encounter with the man would be as short as the rest. There was no point in really interacting besides they couldn't understand each other. The man seems to be the girl's father. If this is so then he has done all he needed to do.
When it came to times like this, he was grateful that people here couldn't understand him.
"You know..you're really beautiful. I mean I haven't seen anyone as breathtaking as you in a long time. Heh." Lan Zhan's face filled his mind for a flicker of a second. Rubbing his neck with slight flushed awkwardness.
"I mean you're very stunning. Like. Wow. You should be careful, your beauty might blind someone. Just saying...It's a shame that I hadn't met you once upon a time. But hey, that's life. Anyway, There's your daughter, I'm assuming. Farewell, Handsome Beauty." He mentally cried at the fact that he'll never see this beautiful man again.
He gave a little wave at the girl beside the man before turning around to depart but then that rich voice filled the air again. Speaking with words that he understood.
With a slightly quirked eyebrow, the daiyokai spoke. "This Sesshomaru is breathtaking?" More like a restatement rather than a question.
Stopping, he turned around looking at the man.
"You..understand me?" Clearly shocked that for the first time in a long time that someone could understand him.
"This Sesshomaru knows many languages."
"Then...you understood what I said."
And It just so happens that one to finally understand him had heard him ramble about how beautiful he was. His cheeks burned in a blush.
"Quite."
Well then…
"Fuck." He mumbled under his breath.