Work Text:
Mingjue had never felt terror like this before, flying over the Cloud Recesses on Baxia. All around him, he could see blood and bodies spread on the ground. There were charred marks where some of the disciples must have tried to set up fire wards before they failed. Too many white-robed bodies were falling, twitching as they hit the ground. Mingjue shuddered when he saw their eyes roll back, foaming at the mouth.
The message had come in a little wisp of golden light, as if Xichen had no more spiritual power to spare, and the fear that it filled Mingjue broke him apart. His disciples were already at the foot of the Cloud Recesses, setting up wards. There was no saving Xichen’s home. It would have to be burned, before the infection spread beyond its borders.
Mingjue pointed Baxia towards where the fighting was the thickest, where he could see the flash of blue among all that white. He lunged the moment he landed, slicing off the head of a former Lan disciple. The disciple was human no more, transformed into a flesh-eating monster with the capacity to kill. With a wave of Baxia, Mingjue slashed through the zombies that stumbled towards him, severing their spines.
“Xichen!” he called, cutting down more zombies in his path, fighting to get through to that flash of blue. “Xichen, we have to get out of here!”
Blue robes swirled in the air as Xichen swung his sword, slashing through the crowd of zombies that surrounded him. His sword was nowhere near as effective as Mingjue’s Baxia, but he held his own even as the tidal wave of bodies threatened to overwhelm him. But when Mingjue managed to snag him by the fabric of his sash, dragging him out of the fray, Lan Wangji’s face looked back at him.
Mingjue did not have time to do anything other than thrust Baxia beneath his feet, dragging Xichen’s little brother into the air with him. Cold fear seized his heart in a clawed grip, squeezing until he could hardly breathe.
“Xichen?” he asked, steadying Wangji when he swayed. The boy had a scratch on his cheek and down his arms but no visible bite that Mingjue could see. “Is he- what has become of him?”
“He refused to leave Shufu,” Wangji answered, the grief in his eyes striking Mingjue straight in the heart. “Shufu was bitten.”
“No.” Mingjue gritted his teeth.
“He took him to the Cold Pond Cave,” Wangji continued. “To slow down the infection.”
Mingjue shook his head, already setting the course for Cold Pond Cave.
“Are there any more left?” he asked, his heart breaking for Wangji at the desolate look in his eyes.
“They all fought bravely,” Wangji answered, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. Mingjue had known him since he was a child, and he could tell when he was trying to keep the tears spilling over. “The Cloud Recesses is no more.”
Mingjue held him close even when Baxia set down at the Cold Springs, Wangji leading them towards the cave. A horrible scream ripped through the air, and Mingjue’s whole body went cold. They splashed through the stream at a full sprint; Mingjue had never seen Wangji run before.
Blood ran in pale streaks through the crystal-clear water, crimson ribbons that stained the grey river rocks. Mingjue took a moment to grieve the broken peace before his eyes fell upon the figure kneeling before the entrance of the cave. His shoulders shook, and the hand holding his sword trembled. Scarlet dripped off the tip of the sword, sinking into the water at his feet.
“Xiongzhang!” Wangji stumbled uncharacteristically and would have fallen had Mingjue not caught him. Mingjue’s heart nearly stopped when Xichen turned to face them, his face a mask of despair and self-loathing. The hem of his blue robes was stained with blood, and when he rose slowly, as if he were in a trance, Mingjue could see more blood, darker, almost congealed, streaking down the skirts of his robes.
For a moment, Mingjue feared the worst.
“Didi.” Xichen’s voice shook, and Shuoyue gleamed in the sun, its edge sharp and bright. “Don’t look.”
Mingjue seized hold of Wangji, clasping a hand over his eyes when something roared, the sound inhuman. Wangji put up a fight, but Mingjue was stronger, and bigger than him. He yanked him around before he could watch his older brother cut the head off the shoulders of the man who had raised him. Mingjue had seen war before, but the sight of the head rolling to the ground still turned his stomach. That had once been his teacher. His mentor.
Xichen retched violently, dropping Shuoyue with a clatter and Mingjue almost let go of Wangji to grab him. Wangji made a sound, almost wrenching free before Mingjue pulled him into his chest, pressing a hand to the back of his head to hold him still.
Xichen was trembling when he sank to his knees in the water that had been stained scarlet with his uncle’s blood, tears streaming down his face. Mingjue watched him piece the body back together, before igniting a fire talisman. Wangji let out a soundless cry in his arms, shuddering violently when the smell of burning flesh filled the air.
“Wangji,” Xichen croaked once the body had been turned to ash. Wangji squirmed free of Mingjue’s hold, staggering over to his brother with none of his usual grace. Xichen grabbed him, pulling him to his chest with a heart wrenching sob, burying his face into his hair.
“Xiongzhang.” Wangji’s voice broke. “He’s gone?”
Xichen squeezed Wangji harder, fingers curled into his shoulders. He raised his head to look at Mingjue, carding a hand through his brother’s hair.
“Would you- has Qinghe-?”
“Yes,” Mingjue said before Xichen could finish. “The Cloud Recesses must be burned. We cannot risk the infection spreading.”
Xichen flinched like he had been struck, still clutching Wangji to his chest.
“Are there no more survivors?” he asked.
“The infection took out all of the outer disciples,” Wangji said quietly. “They in turn attacked everyone in the compound.”
Xichen let out a wretched sound, bowing his head. He stepped away from his brother, raising his hand to dry his tears. Something cracked in the distance, and they all froze.
“We have to go,” Mingjue said, laying his dao onto the ground. “My disciples have the Cloud Recesses surrounded. Nothing can remain.” He looked at Xichen, who had the most stricken expression on his face. “I’m so sorry.”
“The books. Is there any way we can save them?” Wangji asked, in lieu of his brother’s sudden speechlessness. “Our library.”
Mingjue nodded, conjuring a golden butterfly. Movement behind Xichen caught his eye and he lunged forward the same moment a zombie shattered through the protective wards. Baxia slashed it across the throat, splattering blood and gore all over Xichen’s back.
“Let’s go!” Mingjue snapped, catching up Xichen’s arm. He picked Shuoyue up from the ground, calling Baxia back. Wangji rose into the air with him on Bichen, his face set into a grim mask of determination.
“The library, Mingjue,” Xichen said. “We have to save it.”
“They will. But you are the last of the Lan clan. You need to be taken to safety. You and Wangji both.” He pressed his lips to the top of Xichen’s head, and Xichen clung to him. Mingjue pretended not to see Wangji turning his head away, combing his fingers through Xichen’s hair. “I will protect you both, my heart. I can’t lose you.”