Work Text:
There was little luxury to be had on the battlefield, even when you were the Moon Supreme of Cangyan Sea, the most powerful man in the three realms. Dongfang Qingcang’s tent was lush, filled with satin and silk furnishings, as well as carafes of wine that he’d hardly had time to enjoy, but none of that could compensate for the sweltering heat of the desert he and his troops camped in. He fell asleep that night, his opulent blankets and sheets thrown aside, with sweat on his brow and no way to combat it. Perhaps, he hoped, it would cool down as the night continued.
Soon it would be morning, and sleep was easy for Dongfang Qingcang anyway.
Because he never dreamed.
Or at least, he could not remember the last time he did. Certainly it was before his father… before he killed his father. In retrospect, it may have been strange that he didn’t have nightmares after that, but he supposed that nightmares and dreams both, were for people who had a heart.
Tonight was different. He scarcely remembered falling asleep when he woke up with a gasp. As his eyes adjusted, it became instantly obvious he was not in his tent, not in his camp with one hundred thousand soldiers of Cangyan Sea. In fact, he was not sure where he was. Wherever he was, it was daytime. He surveyed his surroundings. He stood on the platform of a huge, wooden structure, a home of some sort, he assumed. It was not the architecture of the Moon Tribe, but instead it was all sweeping lines and delicate shapes. It looked of the fairy realm, and Dongfang Qingcang scowled. He knew the scorching heat was unpleasant, but he did not expect that unpleasantness to extend into his slumbering thoughts.
There were footsteps, and he turned, a flash of Hellfire instantly appearing in his hands.
But the person who stood across from him was no enemy; it was himself.
Dongfang Qingcang, the other Dongfang Qingcang, looked relaxed. His hands were behind his back, and he was not at all on the defense.
“This is a strange dream,” his other self finally spoke.
He could only nod. “Who are you?” He did not allow the Hellfire to extinguish, and in fact, it burned brighter.
“I would think it obvious.” He cocked his head slightly, in a manner Dongfang Qingcang found curious.
He took a moment to survey his other self more closely; in addition to his relaxed posture, he wore a sleeping gown, magnificent and rich, dark wine colored and embroidered with imagery familiar to him as being common in the Moon Tribe. There were flowers too, but he didn’t think much of that. His hair was down, falling over his shoulders and down his back, a little ruffled from sleep, no doubt.
On the contrary he himself was still fully dressed, hair pulled back. Only his armor was missing. With Lady Chidi and her soldiers so close, he could not spare the time to change clothes were an emergency to strike.
The other Dongfang Qingcang clearly had no such concerns. He was so strange, even discomfiting. He looked like him and he was him; he held the same aura of authority, power, and grace. But he was so… different. He was trying to put his finger on how.
“You are me from long ago, are you not?” the other self asked. “From back when we fought against Shuiyuntian, back when our foe was Lady Chidi?”
At this, Dongfang Qingcang sucked in a breath. It was just a dream but…
“Back when? Are you saying that this one has destroyed Shuiyuntian, and that Lady Chidi is dead? If this venerable one is still alive, that must be the reality.”
The other man, also him, frowned, as if troubled by his words. “Since there is no reason to hide the truth, as this is merely a dream, my dream...”
“How is it your dream when this venerable one remembers falling asleep?” His eyes narrowed in irritation. His other self, the strange, relaxed man who had not once moved to retrieve a weapon or summon Hellfire, was starting to get on his nerves.
“Even if it is not, I am you, and I do not remember having this dream, so clearly, you forget. But this is the place I often come to in my dreams. You do not yet know it exists. You will not know for a long time.”
“A fairy building?”
“Yes. It is called Simingdian, and it is very important to us.” He took a deep breath. “You will understand.”
He decided to brush off the strangeness of the comment for more pressing matters. “And Shuiyuntian?”
“We are at peace. We have been for centuries,” his other self said. “One can hope we remain as such.”
Impossible. Preposterous. This was ludicrous, and his ire flared as he glared at the facsimile of himself standing just a few feet away. He was being taunted; a spell, perhaps, from one of Lady Chidi’s men.
“You lie.”
“I do not. I do not have any love lost for Shuiyuntian, but we have not battled them for several centuries.”
He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. “This venerable one will not fall for tricks or deception. You cannot be Dongfang Qingcang. Lady Chidi should know, at least how this one speaks.”
“I am talking to myself. What is the use of formality and posturing when I am speaking to my own self?” the other Dongfang Qingcang answered, and he could have sworn the man rolled his eyes. The disrespect.
It was… not a completely nonsense reasoning.
“How then is there peace? Is my Cangyan Sea subjects of Shuiyuntian now? Because that is the only way they would agree not to destroy us,” he argued, his arm whipping to the side and a snarl crossing his lips.
The Dongfang Qingcang that was not him was unfazed. “We are free. The Moon Tribe is thriving. And our power… is stronger than ever.” He held up a hand, and in it burst forth a bright red flame; not the color of normal fire, but something deeper, more scarlet than orange and exuding a deep, ancient magic.
“That is not Hellfire.”
At this, the man smirked. “It is not. It is better. You do not need Hellfire now.”
“There is nothing stronger than Hellfire. You are lying again,” he said, feeling the blue flames flicker inside him. “And the only way there can be peace for the Moon Tribe is if Shuiyuntian is destroyed.”
He extinguished the flame. “This dream is strange, and I am finding that I do not enjoy the company of my former self.” He frowned and furrowed his brows. “My wife would say it’s a lesson or—”
“We have a wife?” At this, his eyes widened, and he felt as if the world had tilted on its axis once more. “A political marriage. It makes some semblance of sense, but this one always planned that for Xunfeng, if it were necessary. To whom does this marriage benefit?”
“Yes, we have a wife. She is our Moon Queen,” his other self said, and this time he smiled, an expression that could only be described as gentle, nay tender, crossing his lips as he spoke of this woman. “She will always stand beside us, and we love her more than we could ever hate Shuiyuntian.” He let out the briefest of sardonic laughs, but it was enough to startle Dongfang Qingcang. “What a fool I am to think this marriage could be political. It is anything but.”
At this his irritability flared, because this imitation of himself, was taunting him. He was being condescended to by this man with his face; who smiled and laughed and loved, and even believed there was something more important than defeating Shuiyuntian.
“YOU ARE NOT ME,” he spoke, his voice booming, as if amplified by magic, and blue flames burst out around his body, enveloping him as he stepped into a defensive stance. He was ready to fight this farce of himself; who spoke of peace, who spoke of love, who spoke as if he had accomplished impossible things, and who even spoke as if he had a heart.
His other self was stone faced, not afraid, and he sighed. “I am you. You are just not yet the person you are meant to be.”
But before he could reply, his other self vanished in a flash of that strange, red fire.
When he was gone, Dongfang Qingcang took a moment to try to reason with himself, but then he once again took in his surroundings. He was not just in a structure built by the fairy realm, but he was in Shuiyuntian itself. The purple and pink clouds, like fluffy pillows, floated above him, and he heard the moan of a sky whale far away. He glanced next to him, and several feet away was a small table that was clearly a workstation. There was paper and ink and several scrolls, and he even spotted some literature that he knew came from Silent Moon Palace.
On the edge of the table was a small plate, on which several delicate, pink flower cakes sat, ready to be eaten. A flash of an unknown smile crossed his mind, the unburdened laugh of a pretty young woman accompanying it; her eyes clenched in joy and her gown floating around her in a gauzy whirl, almost a blur. He felt indignation burble up in him. He allowed the Hellfire to overtake him, and it lashed out toward the table, burning it and its contents to cinders.
Dongfang Qingcang, ruler of Cangyan Sea, the Moon Supreme, and husband of the Moon Queen, the Goddess of Xishan, Xiao Lanhua, woke up with a start. The first rays of dawn had crept into their bedroom at the Silent Moon Palace, so it was time for him to awaken as was, but he didn’t usually wake up in such a bewildered state. He usually slept well. The sheets and blankets were plush and luxurious, but more than that, it was the sound of Xiao Lanhua’s soft breathing and the thrum of her heartbeat, pressed against his own chest, that allowed him to sleep soundly most nights
He heard Xiao Lanhua grumble as she wrapped herself even tighter around him, rather like a limpet (though a beautiful, cute, and charming limpet). “Go back to bed Damutou.”
“I had a dream last night…” Dongang Qingcang murmured into Xiao Lanhua’s hair.
She let out an ‘mmmm’ and yawned, pressing further toward him, as difficult as it was, being that they were already so flush against each other. “Was it a bad dream?”
“Not bad or good. It just caused me to think.” He pushed himself up, much to her chagrin, but she sat up as well and faced him, curiosity crossing her features. “Xiao Lanhua,” he spoke seriously, and his fingers brushed her shoulder. “I hope you understand that without you, I could not be the person I am today.”
Xiao Lanhua squinted blearily for a moment, her nose crinkled in the most delightful of manners, then bit her lip, thoughtful. “Maybe so, but I think you already were that person. It was just taken from you. All I did was help you find him again.” She yawned and reached up, placing her hand upon his.
Dongfang Qingcang shook his head. “I was not a good man. Perhaps this is still true.”
At this Xiao Lanhua’s eyebrows narrowed, and an irritated expression crossed her face. “You are compassionate and wise, and you love so strongly that you can’t even keep it contained within you.” She coaxed his free hand open, and a bloom of brilliant, red Glazed Fire blossomed in it, like a beating heart. His fire did not hurt her. She could touch it, and all she felt was warmth and safety.
“You are the Moon Supreme of Cangyan Sea, who brought peace to the three realms and saved your people.” Her voice was gentle, but full of conviction.
“You did that.”
“No more than you did. We both died for this, didn’t we?” She glanced down, her eyes slightly lidded and a somewhat sheepish smile on her face.
He sucked in a breath, and his brows furrowed, a frown crossing his features. “Let us not speak of such things.”
Dongfang Qingcang leaned forward and pressed a soft, brief kiss to Xiao Lanhua’s lips.
“I will always believe in the person you are,” she said as they pulled apart.
“I know you will.” He rubbed a finger across her cheek, thanking her.
“But…”
“But…?”
Xiao Lanhua stretched, and let out what he assumed must have been a deliberately overdramatic yawn. Typical of her. She was spoiled, but he could hardly complain too much considering he was the reason why. “Before then, I’m going to sleep a little longer. It’s barely even dawn.”
“Xiaohuayao, you are so lazy.” He descended upon her, a grin crossing his lips as his fingers dove to her stomach, the most ticklish spot on her. She screeched in laughter, and his heart, full as it was, warmed, the Glazed Fire that had settled in his bones a comforting thrum throughout his body.
When Dongfang Qingcang, ruler of Cangyan Sea, the Moon Supreme, and the supposed terror of the three realms, woke up the next morning, his head pounded and ached, and he felt something he did not recognize and could not understand; an emptiness, a hollowness in his chest, as if a piece of him was missing. There was a faint echo in his mind; his own face, a slight smile on his own lips, and words ‘you are just not yet the person you are meant to be’ and ‘we love her more than we could ever hate Shuiyuntian.’ Impossible. Absurd.
He ignored the feeling in his chest. He had ignored worse. He had fought with grievous injuries, summoned his Hellfire even as blood seeped from wounds criss crossing his entire body. He did not have time to contemplate this. Perhaps it was just the heat getting to him. Today, he and his men faced Lady Chidi and her soldiers of Shuiyuntian in the Xuanxu Realm. He must not be distracted, and he must put that unsettling memory of a ghost of a gentle smile on his own face, of his own lips turning up slightly as they said, with conviction and authority ‘we love her’, out of mind. He was the Moon Supreme and only the Moon Supreme. There could and would not ever be anything else in his mind, or in whatever he had that could constitute a heart.
It was just a dream.