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Hanguang-jun.
That was what they called him.
The Light Bearer.
Going wherever the chaos was.
Helping those in need.
Helping the forgotten and unseen.
His hunt had brought him here, to the edges of the Burial Mounds.
A place he had never wanted to return to.
The resentment too thick.
The memories too painful.
But his quarry was said to haunt the boundary of the Mounds, hiding amongst the blackened, twisted trees that somehow managed to grow there.
He had no choice but to enter.
Though he hesitated at the edge, closing his eyes to take a deep steadying breath.
Only for them to snap back open as the faint strains of a flute drifted to him on the breeze.
A dizi.
But surely not?
Wishful thinking perhaps?
And yet it was there.
Faint but present.
Winding through the twisted trees.
The oppressive weight of resentment settled on his shoulders as he sought to follow the sound, heartbeat quickening, and quarry forgotten.
The tune was soft, haunting.
It lured him through the trees, past stunted bamboo groves, and over warding stones, their carvings faded with time.
It brought him to a clearing, and a pale figure perched upon a rock.
His breath stuttered in his lungs.
Not entirely sure if what he saw before him was real or a cruel illusion of the Mounds.
A crimson ribbon drifted almost lazily in the breeze along with a few dark strands of the hair it held back.
“Wei Ying.”
The name left his lips as barely a breath of sound, too quiet to be heard.
And yet the flute was lowered, and dark eyes lifted to meet his own.
A small, soft smile replaced the dizi.
Its curve tinged with sadness.
“Lan Zhan.”
He stumbled forward, his famed grace disappearing at the sound of that voice.
“Wei Ying. How are you here?”
His question was met with another sad, soft smile.
“Come to Gusu with me.”
The words were desperate, bursting from his lips in a way they never had before.
A gentle shake of a head.
Red dragging over swaying black.
“Please do not ask me that. I cannot follow you.”
“You can, Wei Ying, you can.”
“Lan Zhan.”
A sigh as quiet as the breeze.
“I cannot leave this place.”
He fell to his knees before him, heedless of the rotten earth staining the pristine white of his robes.
“Please, Wei Ying.”
The words punched out of him, dragged from his throat by years of grief and mourning.
“I love you. Please come with me. I will protect you from those that mean you harm. Come with me and we shall raise a-Yuan together. He is alive, Wei Ying, alive and healthy and so very good.”
A single tear glistened on dark lashes, trembling on its precarious perch.
“Lan Zhan.”
So soft the voice.
So very sad.
“Don’t ask me to follow where you lead.”
A slow blink.
The solitary tear rolled down a pale cheek.
“I cannot leave this place.”
Pained, desperate eyes dropped to the rock his love was perched upon.
Finally seeing the faint lines carved upon its surface.
Looking back the way he came, he saw other, smaller stones, circling the clearing.
Warding stones.
An ancient array.
Worn away but powerful still.
“You are trapped.”
“Lan Zhan.”
“I can free you, Wei Ying.”
“Lan Zhan.”
More tears rolled down those pale, hollowed cheeks.
“Do not ask me to follow, I cannot leave this place.”
“You will, Wei Ying. I will free you from this place.”
He was strong.
His Golden Core burning bright even within the depths of the Burial Mounds.
Light Bearing Lord.
And he would bear it to this dark place.
Would chase the chaining shadows away.
He rose to his feet, calling his guqin to him.
Pure, cool spiritual power came to his call as his fingers plucked at the strings.
He would break the centre of the array, shatter its bonds on the man he loved, and take him away.
He’d keep him safe.
Forever loved.
It was easier than he thought it would be.
Two concentrated strikes of energy had the warding stone cracking apart down its very centre.
His love gazed sadly down at the stone, still perched upon one half.
“Wei Ying.”
He held out a hand.
Offering.
Hoping.
“Come. You are free.”
A shake of the head, even as a cool, pale hand slipped into his own.
“I cannot leave this place.”
“Come, Wei Ying, I have broken its hold over you.”
Hand in hand he led them through the twisted trees.
Hopes for the future spreading out before him.
They hesitated at the edge.
One step more and they’d be free of the Mounds.
“Come, Wei Ying, it’ll be alright.”
Taking both of his love’s hands into his own, he took the final step.
Eyes carefully fixed on sorrow-filled depths, he stepped backwards, drawing them both out from under the oppressive weight of resentment.
One step.
Two…
“Wei Ying!”
The pale figure crumpled to his knees.
Tear bright eyes looked to him.
A smile so very soft and sad.
A cool hand pressed to his cheek.
“I cannot leave this place.”
“Wei Ying, no, I freed you.”
“Lan Zhan.”
Dark wisps trailed from his robes, his hair.
“I’m sorry.”
“Wei Ying, please.”
“And thank you.”
His love faded into a dark mist, carried away on a clean breeze.
Leaving naught behind but a crimson ribbon, curling almost playfully in the wind.
And a broken man screaming his pain to the now silent trees.