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He's falling.
He's become a victim of gravity. His body feels numb and his mind dull. He's falling, fast—gravity is working its magic—yet everything is in slow-motion.
He faintly hears the words: "Wei Ying!" prying themselves from Lan Zhan, and his heart splits in half.
He's terrified.
He's exhausted.
He can't help it when a bitter smile takes over his features. Tears fall but they stray away from him. He can finally find peace. His shijie is waiting for him on the other side.
Dying doesn't seem too bad after all. Not if Yanli was there. But hurting his friend by leaving again is not worth it.
I'm sorry, Lan Zhan, is the last thing he thinks in this life as he prays that death will be quick.
Wei Ying is dead before he reaches the rocky ground, soul and body wilting away with the wind.
Dying isn't so bad after all.
Wei Ying is dead.
He's in the dark and Yanli is nowhere in sight.
"Shijie!" He cries, voice echoing through the empty space.
If he was alive his heart would be pounding in his chest. But he isn't. And it isn't.
"Shijie!" He calls again. And again.
Againagainagainagainagain—
Shijieshijieshijie—
He's crying. He knows he shouldn't be able to but the tears are rolling down his cheeks.
Then he hears a voice in the dark. One, two, three, four— too many to count.
"A-Xian, why didn't you save me?"
Shijie.
It hurts.
"Shijie!" He calls out but is interrupted by other voices.
"Wei Wuxian!"
"Xian-gege."
"Yiling Patriarch!"
"Kill Wei Wuxian!"
"Get the Stygian Tiger Seal!"
"Wei Wuxian, don't you want revenge?"
"Kill Yiling Patriarch!"
The voices are chanting. His head feels like it's going to split into two.
"Leave me alone," he says. Then again, louder this time. "Leave me alone!"
He yells the same three words until his throat is raw, or it would have been if he was alive.
He shuts his eyes tightly and covers his ears with his hands.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" He roars.
The voices abruptly stop. The only echo in the dark is his sobs as he wraps his arms around himself and tightly holds on.
"Wei Ying?"
The tears stop and his hands fall away from his body. It doesn't take long for him to match a face to the voice.
Lan Zhan.
His voice is more solid than the others.
"Lan Zhan?" He calls out and flies off the ground. "Lan Zhan!"
"Wei Ying, where are you?"
"I'm right here!" He calls. "Lan Zhan!"
"Wei Ying, where are you?"
"I'm right—"
Here…
Lan Zhan's voice fades away.
"Lan Zhan?"
No…
Fresh tears spring from his eyes, falling to the ground. The sound of his dripping tears echoes through the room and soon enough he's drowning.
The salty water finds its way to his dead lungs. Then he's falling again.
He falls to the floor with a 'thud'. He's drenched. He coughs the water from his lungs, letting it soil the ebony floor.
"Wei Ying?"
"Lan Zhan," he coughs.
"Wei Ying it's been three years. Answer me, please."
Wei Ying's hands start to sink through the floor. The ebony darkness has been replaced by mud and earth and he's slowly sinking through it.
"Lan Zhan!" He calls out. "Lan Zhan, help me!"
"Wei Ying, where are you?"
He doesn't have time to answer. He's sinking through the mud as if it was quicksand. Soon enough the dirt and mud swallows him whole.
He can't breathe. Then he's falling again.
Wind catches Wei Ying when he falls through the mud. There is no floor this time. He has to rely on the wind and hope that it doesn't let him fall into the empty abyss again.
"Wei Ying."
Lan Zhan's voice is weakened by the wind, barely a whisper.
"Wei Ying it's been six years. Can't you answer me? Please..."
He shouldn't have relied on the wind to hold him, even for a second. It's gone in a heartbeat and he's falling again.
He thuds onto the floor. Even though he's dead every inch of him aches. He hears the crackling of a fire and pries his eyes open.
Flames. All around him, engulfing him—trapping him.
He doesn't cough, because what's the point of it anymore?
He tries to find a way out but the flames somehow towers over him instead. He hears Lan Zhan's voice again.
"Wei Ying... You've been gone for nine years. Where are you right now?"
Lan Zhan's voice breaks.
Angry tears burn behind Wei Ying's eyelids. He doesn't bother to answer—it's not like Lan Zhan can hear him anyway.
Wei Ying falls to the floor on his hands and knees.
The fire roars in his ears. He lets out a frustrated cry and the flames thunder around him before choking the air around his body and swallowing him whole.
It doesn't hurt like it's supposed to do. The fire licks at his skin but there's no heat to it. He feels like he's falling but the feeling is pushed to the back of his head.
The flames die before he knows it and he's left in the empty space yet again.
The eerie silence around him is deafening. His arms give way beneath him and he lets himself sink down on the floor.
His eyes flutter shut as he let's the nonexistent air leave his lungs.
If he were alive he would've fallen asleep. But he's not.
"A-Xian."
Salty tears spring from his eyes. He sees her when he opens them.
Her white and gold dress billows around her and her hair is held up by golden ribbons and hairpins. She wears a smile on her lips but her eyes are mournful. There's an angelic glow around her. Wei Ying thinks she's never been more beautiful before.
"Shijie," his voice breaks. "I'm so sorry."
Yanli sits. "A-Xian."
She holds out a hand. With shaking hands he reaches out. Their hands meet. Her's is warm and solid while his is cold and distant. Yanli pulls him to her chest, holding him close.
He wraps his arms around her. His non beating heart is heavy in his chest. The tears starts to fall.
"Shijie..."
She holds him tighter, grips him as if she's never going to let go. "A-Xian."
His nails dig into the fabric of her dress as he whispers "I'm sorry" over and over again, face pressed to her shoulder. He feels like he's six again, crying in Yanli's arms.
She speaks once his sobs start die out.
"A-Xian," she says, voice smooth as honey. "A-Xian, it's been twelve years."
Six-year-old Wei Ying stares up at her with big eyes, face dirty with tears. "Twelve years?"
Yanli tucks a lock of dark hair behind his ear and smiles. "Yes, twelve years. For twelve years someone has been looking for you."
His sister doesn't say more—she doesn't have to. He knows the answer in his heart already.
He's fifteen again. "Lan Zhan..."
"You should rest," she says as if to change the subject. "You've been tormented for too long, A-Xian."
His eyes involuntary close. She's right. He's so tired. He's been fighting for a long while now.
His shijie starts to hum a tune. The melody is familiar—it's the song she used to sing to them when they woke from nightmares when they were young. But that was then.
Her voice becomes distant and soon enough, all Wei Ying can hear is an echo of the song. Darkness swallows him before he realizes it.
Once he wakes, all he sees is a blinding light in the ebony darkness.
His shijie is gone and his eyes are heavy but he's never felt more alive (for someone who's dead).
A person steps forward but Wei Ying has never seen him before in his life. His hair is unkempt and his eyes and cheeks are hollow. He's dressed in white and light beige robes that hides his slim body and the red wounds on his arm. He holds out a hand to Wei Ying.
"Who are you? How long has it been?" Pries itself from Wei Ying's sore throat. He feels like he hasn't used it in years and finds that he has to cough.
Weird , is all he can think before the person before him speaks. "Mo Xuanyu," he says. "And it's been thirteen years. I need your help."
Wei Ying reluctantly takes his hand and is pulled to his feet. The dark abyss around them turns blinding.
"Who's Mo Xuanyu?" Wei Ying asks, puzzled.
"You are."
"No I'm not."
"You are now," the man—Mo Xuanyu Wei Ying assumes—says. "I can't take it anymore. They're torturing me."
He has to ask. "Who?"
Mo Xuanyu doesn't answer. Instead he says: "You have to help me. Kill them. Kill them all!"
The blinding light swallows them whole.
Wei Ying remembers nothing when he wakes.