Work Text:
Reincarnation
Meaning: a person or animal in whom a particular soul is believed to have been reborn.
Originated from the latin words of [re] which stands for again and [incarnare] which means for to make flesh. Together it makes again to make flesh.
History is written by the victors but it does not mean that stories of the past often make it through the passage of time. Some remain forgotten, for a reason, while some were deliberately put aside— as if to hide an era of which their people were ashamed of.
The most famous of stories often tells of tragedy. Of tyranny and how the people suffers— reminding those who lives in the 'now' that evil will never win. But that's such an optimistic view of life though necessary if one wishes to exist now.
However not all stories of history are tragedy. Some as simply… love. But that truly depends on who's point of view you were to look at it. Some love, though passionate and thrilling to those involve with it, does more harm than good. Cruel to the world and those who stands at the side to bear witness to their love. While some stories filled with love, devotion and loyalty— those are the ones that often ends in tragedy.
Not because they are in love but simply because they are too much in love. Always willing to be the hero to save their loved ones. To die in the name of the future they are able to present as one final gift. Not realizing that the only reason the future might exist is through the loneliness of the ones they will leave behind.
…
Maybe those types of stories are better forgotten. So those who know it will not repeat it and leave the world to their lovers. A painful world that they may not even want in the first place.
Though love moves history, it is always tragedy that is often remembered the most.
Yao is his name. A beautiful name picked from a literature his dear mother read before the moment of his birth. Named before his father were able to agree or disagree with it. As if his mother knew he would find some fault in it- he always wanted to do something extra with his name.
Something long for his first male child after years of only having daughters.
But instead, what he got was ‘Yao’. Glorious- oh the irony.
There is nothing glorious about a failed emperor who has not been able to keep both his loves and his empire happy. At a young age, he already knew what he was- or at least what he was. Though his flesh and blood is now different, born in a family with loving sisters and loving parents, his soul was still that of the emperor who had failed to do what he had vowed to do underneath the heavens.
His mother (the new one and not the one who has pushed him on the throne) told him to take his time. Smiling so gently, so filled with love that Yao at first wanted to hate her. Because hate is much easier to stomach at the end of the day rather than love of which he knows he doesn’t deserve. But still, it was hard to hate the woman who cares for him with so much warmth. Never once getting angry at him when he makes a fuss over the littlest of things.
“Yao’er, please live well.” She would tell him, trying to get him to sleep by rocking him back and forth while she stands underneath the wisteria tree of his childhood home. “You don’t need to be a doctor like your papa. You don’t need to do anything- as long as you’re happy then this old mother of yours will be happy.”
… ‘Yao. Please live happily.’
Such words only reminded him of his General. A cheerful man whose laughter echoes through the halls of his palace, far too loud that his ‘wives’ would often sigh, complaining to him. But what they do not know (or maybe they did, that's why the coup happened) is that Yao enjoyed hearing his laughter far more than their whinings.
His dear General who dedicated his life and his sword to him. But it wasn’t just him who once wished for his happiness but he was the one who shined the brightest- often pulling Yao over walls so they could explore the cities that he, as Emperor, would have never thought of seeing without any guards or the fear in his people’s eyes ever time he were to go out in an excursion.
No. There was someone else- someone who had been by his side ever since he had been crowned emperor. No. Someone who has been there for him since he was brought back to the palace by his mother, accompanied him for most of his life until the very end of his own.
‘My King. Please live as you wish.’ His advisor utters in the candlelit night they spent together, words said pressed against Yao’s shoulder. ‘Worry not of the empire, as long as you, your majesty is healthy and happy, this subject of yours will be happy.’
Such a selfish request but at that time, Yao remembers the choices he made- disregarding both the wishes of his lovers. (His lovers, though they were not married due to the laws of their empire, he saw them as his lovers in all but paper and ink.) But not because he didn’t want to but rather because he needed to. Not when his people need to be put first- such is the way he was taught as a prince of the nation and later on the Crown Prince and now as Emperor. His people would always come first, his happiness can come through later.
Except now, he was not born as a prince to a nation. Only as the youngest child of a doctor and his wife. The youngest of seven children, the seventh son with six older sisters- each who are far older than he is at current point in time. He bears no responsibility to the nation, not when it is run by this thing called ‘president’ often voted by the people rather than their bloodline.
Does he deserve it though? To live happily as what his mother wishes for him to have? To what his General, his love, wanted him to have? The future where he is free to do whatever he wants to do and go wherever he wants to go? Just like what his Advisor wanted for him in the first place?
He didn’t know.
For the first decade of his life, Yao didn’t know what to do- the absolute first ever in both of his lifetimes but what can he do about it? Anything he asked for, though he didn’t like to ask for something without any accomplishments he made in return, were handed to him the moment he were to request it. His sisters spoil him, never once judging him for his first years of life when he was far too harsh on them. Always picking on their clothes- ‘that’s too revealing! Please change!’- or glaring at them if they were to do something indecent, holding him by the hand as he learns what is the difference from his ‘era’ to the ‘now’ of the current times.
His parents? They doted on him, always showering him with affection he never once had in his past life from his father or his father’s concubines. He was… loved. Simply loved, none of them asking for anything in return. Calling him their little King as per their family’s surname and Yao, at the tender age of 12 realized something; he spent ten years brewing in his thoughts, asking for redemption to all those he had killed and caused suffering to before being told that the past is a lesson for the future. A wise saying uttered by his eldest sister, who he had accompanied to a trip to her university just three hours from their mountain home and then it hit him.
He is loved. Loved in a way an emperor would have not been by his parents but loved in a way a child is, loved as he should have been. And that thought brought tears to his eyes, making him clutch and hold himself against his sister who hurriedly brought them how in fear that there was something wrong with him.
Yao is Yao. Though he carries with him the shadow of an emperor behind his back, memories of a much more ancient time and a heart that have been broken and pierced together by gold and light, he is the son of his family. The only son of his family and his eyes, though they speak of horrors a child should have not seen, are now the warm colors of his family and not the cold red of the bloody sins the emperors before him had passed down to him.
‘I miss you.’ He thinks, looking up at the sky. Thoughts going to those faint figures in his memories; one strong and bulky, a swordsman whose love is towards the more pleasurable things in love and the other, quiet and still, a minister who loves to admire the beauty of the world. ‘I hope you will love this world. I think you would.’
He dares not hope in his heart for the opportunity to see them once more. It is already a miracle that he was given a second life- another life to atone for his actions and heal from the horrors of being born in the palace. He rather not risk the ire of the gods by asking for more blessings than what he already received but…
It would be nice. To have them by his side. No longer as Emperor and his most loyal attendants but rather as just… Yao and his… boyfriends…
…
‘Wonder if they were… Like me…’
‘Someday… maybe we will meet again.’
A small wish but a wish he buries in his heart like a seed.
Yao ended up doing what he wanted, just like what everyone in his life wanted. Ignoring what society expects from him, he ended up getting into psychology. A choice of path none of his sisters and parents were ever expecting him to choose solely because they all thought he would end up in history at least. Always the one who would dive in books and articles, reading all that he can consume to know what had happened after his reign.
Only to find nothing.
For him, it stung. To have his history erased just like that but maybe it’s better. To have his shame buried with the remains of an era filled with blood to start anew.
He still reads history more or less, when he has time. Now preferring to just study and get a degree so he can support the family the same way they have supported him for the past few years of pain and denial. Nothing really changed apart from his willingness to get out of the house more often, meeting new people and accompanying his sisters to whatever place they would want to go in as long as they don’t bring him somewhere like a bar. (The last time was a mess.)
“Dìdi~ Come here and accompany your sister to an art gallery.” Speak of the devil and oftentimes, the devil would appear. Yao nodded, not once looking up from the pan of fried rice he was cooking. The task of cooking fell into his responsibilities the moment he learned the wonders of flavors and eating something from one's own hands.
“Did you hear meeeee?”
“Yes. I did.” He answers with a sigh, plating a portion of rice for his parents foremost. “What time and when? Do we need to follow a dress code? Are you bringing another one of your boytoys? If you are, please do tell me that it’s not the one who thinks he’s-”
His sister smacks him on the head, pouting. “Geez, you’re beginning to sound like mom. But I think that’s one of your cute sides~”
Yao puts his hands down, taking deep breaths trying not to anger himself into a stupor at his sister’s comparison. It’s not his fault he looks more like their mother out of everyone else in their family. Though he might think it’s because he spends far more time with her than his father or his sisters. “The answers to my questions please?” He opens his eyes, turning off the stove to focus on feeding his family.
“This afternoon!” Yao almost slipped down the broken tile upon hearing the cheerful note in his sister’s voice. “And you can dress in whatever you want but I was thinking we should wear matching outfits again, like last time? People on instagram really really loved it- they’re soooo jealous for not having a cute little brother like you~”
She talks too much but Yao can only sigh, tolerating the way she squeezes his cheek to get his attention. “Alright.” He agrees, not that he was going to say no anyway. His sisters, especially this particular one, has a habit of attracting the wrong sorts of people and it was up to him to make sure that they wouldn't end up in something sketchy- or worse, dangerous.
"Yay! Yao is coming with me to an art gallery hehe- I think you'll love this one. It's named-"
Yao's eyes widened, dropping a plate when his sister spoke of a name he searched through history books and articles. Using every little thing he can get his hands to just search for a hint of existence of his former people-
Of his home.
Of his own name.
“An Ode to the Forgotten; To my Beloved Emperor Wangzhou.”
Staring at his own face and the faces of his beloveds is an absurd feeling he thought he would never be feeling again. The days of having court painters were over but here he is, seeing realistic paintings of him (the former him, the emperor of the great and old) and his lovers. The sights he has seen, the awkwardness he feels at his sister tugging at his sleeve and pointing at every little thing like a child with excitement and the general discomfort at the knowledge that someone (someone out there) is painting him in such a… sinful manner.
Unbefitting of an emperor who would order people’s deaths without blinking an eye.
He looks away from one particular photo, one where he is being… held by his lovers (the handsome general and the smiling advisor) where he is well… Things are better left unsaid. But the shame he feels hearing people praise the beauty and forbidden aspect of the paintings spaced out in the gallery, all of them not understanding that all of these are his private affairs. Things he had personally done and experienced. If they were still back during the era of his reign, he would have the painter have their hands cut off for daring to sully his good name and mocking him by creating such indecent pictures-
“Say, he looks like you, doesn't he?” His sister’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “The general.”
It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t him his sister was talking to but a person who was in the next painting beside the one he was currently standing across from. Usually, he would ignore it- his sisters were all birds of the feather, happy to get along with anyone who appreciates art and the like and as a good brother, he would be there to make sure that nothing bad would happen to them but at the same time, Yao doesn’t want to actually to make himself… seem too protective. Too clingy to the people in his life.
However the moment he heard the laughter of the man his sister was talking to, he simply just knew. It was younger than the ones in his memories, a bit deeper as well and it sounded completely different still but it carries the same sunshine and light in it. Like a song he never thought he missed until he finds himself longing for it, the sound of home with the drums and the gongs. A strength he longs to feel once more by his side-
“What’s your name handsome?”
“Me? Well… You may call me Augustus bella~ But nothing else, or else the mister here would get angry aye?” Yao turns around- a hope in his heart he desperately tries to stomp down- and sees his sister being towered by a taller man with rather curly hair and tan skin. The same man was accompanied by another man who was rolling his eyes and silently hitting his arm with an indulgent smile. “And this one is called-”
…
Ah.
He almost drops the booklet he brought at the beginning of the gallery, all of the paintings listed there with a meaning and explanation written down by the painter- Roshan- but he manages to catch himself. Entranced by the way this Augustus fellow laughs and smirks, eyes twinkling underneath the fluorescent light and the way the man (he knows that man without hearing his voice, it was evident from the way he carried himself; strong and reliable as if the world would eventually fall into place by his feet) sighs, shaking his head at the antics of the other.
He knows them. (He loved them.)
Once upon a time. (But no ever after.)
Yao takes a step forward, hesitant in knowing if they were really them (his general) or else this were all just a fluke of his mind, yearning for someone to tell him it’s going to be okay (his minister) and soon enough, he finds himself in the middle of the discussion. Not once saying anything but staring right up at the taller one in their party of four. His sister talking and talking, never once is he glad she talks far too much for her own good.
He stands there, staring. Trying to map out their features in his mind- trying to learn what they look like once again and recognize what was the same still. Their habits lay itself in front of him like a scroll filled with all the things he cherishes and loves and he finds himself adjusting them. Adding more to the list again and again-
“My King?”
And Yao stands there, staring straight at the man who he knows to be his minister. Who else would call him such in a crowded place?
“My Minister.”
He looks up at the Augustus fellow. “My General.”
Maybe Fate gifted him another chance. One to turn the wrongs into rights and pay back all the effort and love he was given in his previous life to this new one. To love what he cannot love freely, to care for what he cannot care for freely without earning the ire of those who watch him from below his throne. Eyes as sharp as dangers, each of them hiding their own ulterior motives but in this world-
In this time-
There is no need for lies and endless bloodshed.
Once upon a time, there was an emperor. A powerful one who has all the world at his fingertips; power, beauties, land, riches and people. All of them were his to own but yet… Oh but how he is a lonely emperor for he is surrounded by enemies and foes, all of them all wanting a piece of his reign at his death.
There is no day he did not spend, trying to get away from the scythe of the grim reaper looming over him. Each meal he checked, each family who went against his slaughter, each brother and sister he were to have banished- all to preserve his life which the whole world seems to be out to get. He thought it was punishment for what his family has done to the nation that came before them.
A curse from the gods to punish those who bear the crown and sit on the throne.
The emperor was alone, shadowed by death and blood of which follows him regardless of where he goes to. Until one day, he finds himself no longer alone. Accompanied by a childhood friend, the minister's child who would later be turned into the emperor’s royal advisor by the time they were both in their adulthood, who cares for him regardless of the blood he had shed, most of which were by the minister’s family. A caring and stable presence by his side, never once leaving since he had stood at the top of the world.
‘Your wish is my command My King. Order me to do your bidding and I will be your hands and feet. I offer my everything to you.’ The advisor vows to him, kneeling underneath the moonlight over their heads in the palace’s main plaza.
A vow he swore till the very end of their miserable lives filled with lies and dances, trying to run away from what they were forced to be but in the end- giving up. For it is written in the stars and it is their destiny.
But apart from the advisor, the King also had someone. Someone who pushed him to be better, to choose better or else it is his throat that will be next. A threat that chose to stay by his side, betraying his clan for the sake of accompanying the Emperor. The General from far away lands who swore his sword and his shield to the Emperor who he first tried to kill.
“Well your majesty! You’re far different from what I imagined you to be- but that’s alright, I like feisty people. Until the end of your reign, I will be your sword. Command be righteous or else I will be the one handing your own personal judgment.”
A flirty, willful man who does just simply whatever he wants but without him, the Emperor and his advisor would have died again and again. From assasination, from betrayals.
The lonely Emperor no longer alone, the Advisor who swore underneath the moonlight and the General who pointed his sword at those who threatened the one he decided to follow.
Their reign together was strong, bonds none has seen before. Forged through trials and blood but most importantly- love. A love so strong that Fate threatened to rip it apart and who are they but mere feeble humans? Who has no powers against such a cosmic power.
One died, fighting to save the others. The other sacrificed himself in a war he had no business to be fighting for and the other died of loneliness, praying and begging in a temple for another chance to meet the ones who hold his heart and soul.
Begging to the Gods for another chance- a better chance.
And the Gods, who have watched them grow and bleed for their people, had pity in their cold hearts. Granting all three of them another chance to shine, in a time where they do not need to fight or run from those who seek their life.
Another chance to meet and fall in love.
Another lifetime.
And maybe this time, they would achieve that thing.
Their Happy Ending.