Chapter Text
There was a recurring dream that Lan Wangji kept having. It started plaguing him first five years ago when the war had just started becoming only a bad memory for the people across the four great kingdoms and every town in between. When he woke up, he would always forget the dream, but while he was asleep, the dream was as vivid and real as if he were awake.
And just as usual, his dreamscape was a vast stretch of darkness while he was asleep. He had wished for it to always be like this, but it wouldn’t be. He’d be here again. The one he always forgot about when he woke up.
“Lan Zhan? Are you there?”
The voice echoed all around Lan Wangji. He looked over his shoulder, around and above him, but nobody was in sight. And then, because he was in this dream, he remembered what he had to do to see the owner of the voice.
“I’m here.” He answered, his voice also sounding rather diaphanous. Like he wasn’t really there. But then, neither was the other person.
“Lan Zhan.”
The voice called out again, but this time, Lan Wangji could see him. The person to whom the voice belonged. The person who kept haunting his dreams. The ghost that followed him even while he was awake, because for some reason, Lan Wangji could never remember him while he was out of the dreamscape.
The first thing that was noticeable about him was the flute tucked in the sash belt at his waist. From it, hung a jade pendant with a red tassel. He seemed to like red, but he always dressed in black. Head-to-toe, excepting the red ribbon in his hair.
The man smiled at him.
“Why do you always look so bitter? Didn’t you do anything fun today?”
This question was ridiculous to Lan Wangji. What was the need for it? Would something change for this man if he knew about Lan Wangji’s day? Lan Wangji’s didn’t think so.
And yet he answered anyway.
“New soldiers in training. They are not concentrating on their work.”
The man laughed hearing this, his voice chiming in Lan Wangji’s mind like he was recalling something beautiful from the past.
“You’re really too serious! Aren’t they young? Go easy on them.” The man said, tutting like he was scolding a young child. “I got it, why don’t you come see me? You’ll have more fun.”
See him? Oh yes. It was only after Lan Wangji had heard this proposal that he remembered this man always asked this question in every dream. And every time he woke up, he’d forget about it.
He wonders what he’d answered to this question in the previous dreams. Considering how Lan Wangji felt right now, he thinks that he had probably…
“Oh, our time is coming to an end.” The man smiled, but his smile was disappointed. “Have you started waking up earlier lately? I barely got a few seconds with you.”
Lan Wangji felt the same way. The night always seemed long when he was going to sleep, but while he was dreaming, it didn’t seem very long at all. But that had only started when this man started entering his dreams.
“Lan Zhan, you’ve got a light in you. Don’t lose it.” The man said. He stepped closer to Lan Wangji, reaching out his hands to hold Lan Wangji’s face in them. He was very warm. “Until next time.”
The man smiled again, and Lan Wangji wondered why his face looked so clear and so blurry at the same time.
At the very last moment, he felt like he didn’t want this man to leave. And then he realised that he kept feeling like this every dream he saw him in.
So why could he never remember him?
He covered the man’s left hand with his own hand, holding it against his face.
“Stay.”
The man’s eyes widened and he looked overjoyed but terribly sad at the same time.
“That’s the first time you’ve said that to me. It’s a real shame.” The man said, his eyes glistening. “I cannot keep you with me. You must wake up now, Lan Zhan. You’re too wonderful for me to keep to myself.”
And like a flash of lightning, Lan Wangji suddenly remembered the man’s name. He’d told Lan Wangji his name countless times before, but Lan Wangji kept forgetting once he woke up.
The man smiled warmly at him, “Let’s meet again, my prince.”
As he retrieved his hands from Lan Wangji’s face, Lan Wangji called his name. Yet everything around him was suddenly deafening and he couldn’t hear his own voice anymore. The man was vanishing from his dream, and with him, went the image of his bright smile and ringing laughter.
And as usual, Lan Wangji forgot everything as soon as he woke up.
There was a void in Lan Wangji’s heart that only ever seemed to become full when he was asleep. He knew that something out of the ordinary happened while he was unconscious, but try as he did, he could never remember what it was.
Just as he remembered something, he’d forget it. Just as he was about to grasp a hold of an image, it would disappear—and he was left with a vague sense of loss. It was a loss that was deep enough to make his heart cold. He knew there could be only one reason for this.
He was forgetting something important. No, not something, it was somebo—
Three knocks came at Lan Wangji’s door and a voice spoke from the other side. “Your Highness?”
Lan Wangji noticed that he’d been practising his calligraphy and had already finished writing three pages without noticing. He set his brush down and got up.
“You may speak.” He said once he opened the door.
The servant on the other side had her head bowed, “His Majesty, the king has returned. He requested your presence in the hall, your highness.”
Lan Wangji silently nodded.
His brother didn’t often request his presence in the hall unless it was for something official.
.
There was a common point of interest for the four great kingdoms. Through each kingdom there would be at least one conversation going on in restaurants about the following.
At the top of the Yiling burial mounds stood an old mansion that none of the four kingdoms dared to touch. Once, there may have been a noble household there, but no one knew how long ago. Now, the area around was impregnated with a suffocating amount of dark energy coming from the bodies of sorcerers that were thrown there. Thus, the palace had always been empty.
Or at least, it had been until five years ago when the rumours of him began circulating.
The man they called a heartless sorcerer, the Yiling Patriarch.
“Heartless?” Lan Wangji repeated, dubiously, when he heard about the story from his brother.
King Lan Xichen’s face betrayed some amount of loss, “We know nothing about him other than the fact that he is a man, extremely vain, and allegedly heartless. In fact, we have no proof that he is even real.”
Lan Xichen walked towards the balustrade of the balcony and looked down at whatever he could of his vast kingdom. Lan Wangji knew that his brother not only treasured this kingdom, but the peace that came to it when they had allied with the Lotus Kingdom.
That is why this seemed to trouble him.
The Yiling Burial Mounds has originally been part of the fallen Sun Kingdom that had neighboured the Lotus Kingdom. It was so far on the border, however, that it was practically under the Jiang Royal family, but just out of the way to be under the unfortunate rule of Wen Ruohan.
Then the Sunshot Campaign took place where the now four great kingdoms overthrew the Sun Kingdom. Before this, none other than the Saber and Cloud Kingdoms had an alliance. However, a common enemy has always forged great partnerships.
This war had always been over the horizon, but what commenced it was the massacre of the Jiang royal family. The only survivors had been the two heirs, Princess Jiang Yanli—who was now married to Prince Jin Zixuan—and the current King of the Lotus Kingdom, Jiang Wanyin.
Lan Wangji admitted, he didn’t know much about the Jiang family before the war. Even after they had allied together, it always seemed as if Jiang Wanyin didn’t want anyone too close to him.
Yet now, the person requesting to check the Yiling Burial Mounds was none other than the king who never asked for help.
“What if he isn’t real?” Lan Wangji asked.
What if he was?
A blurry image of a man clad with darkness and a streak of red flashed into his mind, but disappeared just as quickly.
Lan Xichen smiled at his brother, “Just come back, if there doesn’t seem anything suspicious. I will trust your judgement for any action you decide to take. This is the first time King Jiang has asked for anything, and it is only because his sister is unwell. If not, I believe he would’ve done this investigation himself.”
“Unwell? Her heart?”
Lan Xichen shook his head, “I don’t know. Whatever it is, I do hope it isn’t heartbreak. Princess Jiang doesn’t have strong enough life magic for deep grievances.”
And this was where the problem lay with magic: Those born with it often held a double edged sword.
Though even common folk could be born with life magic, it was normally gifted to those who were of Royal or Noble bloodlines. This was because they could withstand deep heartache. And as the heart was the source of Life Magic, this was necessary.
Life magic increased one's lifespan and strength immensely, but there came times when one such as Princess Jiang was born. Someone who had life magic but a tendency for heartbreak. It likely wouldn’t be life threatening to her, Lan Wangji knew, but it wasn’t a desirable condition to be in.
However, the only thing he could do was nod and accept the mission, “Understood. I will go to the Burial Mounds.”
“Thank you, Wangji. You’re the only one I can trust this matter to.” Lan Xichen told him, softly, “If you feel that it is draining your life magic, do not hesitate to return. We will find another way.”
“There is no need.” Lan Wangji said and saluted his brother, “This one will leave at first light, Your Majesty.”
Lan Xichen’s eyes softened at his brother and he lay one hand on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, “No formalities, Wangji. Right now, I am only your brother.”
It was clear to Lan Wangji that his brother was worried about him, but he felt it wasn’t necessary. In their early youth, he and his brother had been titled as the First and Second Jades of Gusu—the capital of their kingdom—and Lan Wangji was considered to have the same magical and combative prowess as any king.
He looked into his brother’s worried gaze and wanted to offer him some comfort. However, as he was bad at using too many words, he only said, “I will be back, Brother.”
And Lan Xichen understood what he wanted to convey, as he always did, and smiled.
“I know you will.” He said.
Even though the sun shouldn’t have set yet, the Burial Mounds looked as if it had its very own cloak of night. The air was chilly, but that was to be expected as it would snow any day soon now.
Lan Wangji’s breath came out in white clouds and he spared a glance around, noticing the uncanny amount of crows. Yet, not one other life form. There was a thick growth of thorny vines around the area as well, but any plants that grew there looked practically black in colour. In fact, even the soil was an odd shade.
He scraped his shoe against the mud and observed the colour. It looked like it was painted with blood. Deep Red.
He inhaled some of the stale air and then exhaled it.
Concluding that it was something he could withstand, Lan Wangji began his way up the mounds and towards the mansion that looked like it would be falling apart any moment. Once he’d reached the border of the forest surrounding the mansion, he used his sword to fly till the front door.
Looking at the mansion, Lan Wangji wondered if there could really be someone living there. If there was, they certainly weren’t human, much less a vain sorcerer.
And his suspicions of that grew only stronger when he creaked the large door open and slipped into the building.
Lan Wangji took a look around the grand hall and narrowed his eyes. It was dusty and filled with cobwebs… but it didn’t look uninhabited. The place was filled with things. There were all sorts of tables that were stacked with books and trinkets of different kinds.
Slowly, he moved up the stairs, feeling the need to explore the top. The more he covered the area, the more Lan Wangji felt that it was sturdier than it looked on the outside. From one look on the outside, no one would think that someone could live here. No one would think of even coming here themselves due to all the dark magic that surrounded it.
Yet once he entered it, Lan Wangji was able to breathe much more easily. It was like the pungent aura of dark magic around the palace was only a repellant. A warning.
He carefully moved past the rooms, trying to find traces of life magic from wherever he could, but received nothing.
Then he stepped in front of a large, black, double-doored room. Immediately, Lan Wangji felt a pull in his chest.
An image flashed in his mind again and he knew without a doubt it was from the dreams he could never recall. Why would he think of it right now? And yet, he felt like it was connected in some way.
He sreached out to the handle and cautiously opened the doors.
The first sight that met him was a big window on the opposite side of the room that had the barest light filtering through it. Except for that, the entire room was dark.
In the middle of the room was a relatively large bed with an ornate canopy. Silk red curtains streamed down from it, so long that it collected on the floor, resembling a pool of blood.
Casting a look around, Lan Wangji noticed that there was an unlit candle on a nearby desk. Clearly it was a study table, yet all the materials that were needed for a study were strewn on the floor; books, trinkets of different kinds, and papers that were scribbled all over with the messiest handwriting Lan Wangji had ever seen.
This room was being used and the one who used it was unbearably disorganised.
He walked towards the part of the floor where all the papers were scattered over the ground, and knelt down on one knee to take a closer look. He picked up a few papers and looked at it.
After skimming a few lines, his eyes widened.
These were notes on dark magic! It was difficult to read, but from what Lan Wangji could understand, the one who wrote these notes was trying to evaluate easier ways to use dark magic and how to use it to artificially collect life magic as well!
Never in his life had Lan Wangji seen something so blasphemous—and yet, he couldn’t help but wonder what type of person had written these kinds of things.
How long did they spend each day thinking about it? How many notes did they throw away, deeming it unsafe? And they are definitely taking safety into concern, since the margins were cramped with notes on what not to do for fear of danger to others.
His brows furrowed ever so slightly when his eyes landed on a rather tattered book.
It didn’t look like any book that Lan Wangji was used to seeing but even so, it took him only a moment to realise that it was actually a children’s book. On the front in large calligraphy it was written ‘The Prince who Saved’.
Lan Wangji ignored his curiosity towards it and lifted his head. His eyes fell on the bed which had crimson curtains spilling down from the canopy.
Silently, he lifted to his feet again. He trained his eyes on the fabric and took measured steps to it.
Lan Wangji reached out a hand and drew open the curtains.
And among whatever he’d been expecting, he knew for sure that it hadn’t been a freshly dead body.
The man lying in the bed was covered till mid torso by a tattered, crimson satin blanket. By the standards of Lan Wangji’s family, he could’ve been a prince as well due to his well-defined bone structure and clean facial features. His long black hair fanned across the pillow and black robes hung loosely open, exposing the pale skin of his chest. But his skin was too pale—completely bloodless.
Thus Lan Wangji had been sure it was a corpse, having seen many dead bodies during the war.
And there was something about this particular body that made his chest feel heavy. He had just been wondering what the man must’ve been like in life when—
When startlingly, he snapped open his eyes and looked at Lan Wangji.
His pale and evidently not-so-stiff face split into a wide grin.
Lan Wangji took a step back as the dead man rose to sit upright. He was still grinning and looking at Lan Wangji, but there was a sense of familiarity in it now. Like he knew this man. Like he had for a very long time.
“Well, hello there.” He said, raising an eyebrow. His eyes looked more lively than they should have. “My prince has finally come for me, has he?”
He swung his feet off the bed and approached the other man, grinning from ear to ear. He should’ve looked amused, but to Lan Wangji, it seemed as if this man was genuinely happy to see him. And for some reason, that made perfect sense. Because he’d always been happy to see Lan Wangji.
“Hm… Should I introduce myself?”
Yet Lan Wangji didn’t need him to.
He examined the man’s face. He was handsome with a sparkle in his eyes. Despite his appearance, he was lively in spirit. Despite his dark room, his smile was bright. He was too familiar and Lan Wangji knew him.
“I’m Wei Wuxian.” He said and then pointed one slender finger at Lan Wangji. “But the pretty ones can call me...”
The words entered Lan Wangji’s head before Wei Wuxian said them. Because the words had been said to him before.
‘Wei Ying.’
“Wei Ying.” The man completed, smilingly. His eyes curved into mischievous crescents, the warm silvery colour engulfing the prince’s view.
There was a hole in Lan Wangji’s chest that was only ever full when he was asleep.
And for once, that hole was full while he was awake.