Work Text:
1.
Blackwater Island is not desolate.
It is large enough for seven hundred species of flora and fauna. A quarter of the plants are edible, another quarter is poisonous, and a non-insignificant amount can be used for medicine, potions, spice. The soil is rich and loamy. Where the black waves collide against the sand, the mud is nutrient-rich and red. That is good for building.
Sometimes, Azure Serpent exports plants out. Not often. The Drowning Barrier makes exportation a challenge, and some of the plants are too valuable to just give.
The animals are never exported, though. Save for the birds and the occasional bonefish, no blackwater turtle, three-fingered otter, or hollow-bone snake has ever left the island since their ancestors arrived so long ago. Nothing out, nothing in.
Save for the Calamity himself, Ming Yi might be the first invasive animal to enter.
2.
It takes three days chained to the wall in a miserable dungeon for all of his newly ascended spiritual energy and strength to be drained.
Ming Yi's voice is hoarse from protesting, enough so that he's barely able to give a grunt when Azure Serpent finally manages to reach in, crumpling his cultivation to mush.
The internal crumpling feels agonizing, loss of power choking pathways and resulting in his qi running haywire in a panic as spiritual energy is pulled away. Ming Yi grits his teeth until Azure Serpent stops the damned sucking, his hands relaxing in their brutal grip just long enough for Ming Yi to gulp in gasps of great, great, air.
Stars dance in his vision. The headache and dizziness force him to groan. Azure Serpent's features are blurry in front of him, already morphing to steal Ming Yi's face and body.
The cold, sinking, sensation of his internal godhood- reduced from a waterfall to a trickle inside him- mixes with his despair.
The water demon's hair elongates, the texture changes, and his nose and mouth reshape to become like Ming Yi's, straighter and thicker, skin warping over new cheekbones to support a firmer jaw.
But beyond that, it's the same. Azure Serpent's eyes don't change in their large, lidded, deep-sunkenness, don't change their dark brown color, and his cheeks don't alter in structure much and his eyebrows remain the same, furrowed in contempt. It's the same, and he looks at Ming Yi with disgust from a mask fashioned after Ming Yi's own face.
Azure Serpent looks exactly like him.
No one will tell the difference.
Ming Yi almost lurches when Azure Serpent is done.
"Is this good enough?" the demon asks, refusing to let him avert his eyes. His stern expression is Ming Yi, and his hair is Ming Yi, and his voice is Ming Yi, and it's wrong that it's on someone else's face.
"It's good, it's good." Ming Yi pleads, feeling his breath choke. "Please, please, let me leave, I promise I won't tell anyone, god."
He chokes. He wants to sob.
"I thought so." Azure Serpent says. He lifts a hand ( Ming Yi's hand ) to push his hair back. "I didn't want to risk something too different."
He wants to throw up.
"Are you going to be- using-all the time?"
Ming Yi's hands burn from the bite of metal. Azure Serpent gives him a scowl, it shifts his face his face unnaturally, and Ming Yi...he wants to weep.
A haughty huff responds to him. "What do you think?"
"How long is this going to take?" he croaks.
"That doesn't matter to you."
"Doesn't it? You're forcing me to stay here, chained up, for eternity, for this."
The smile he gets in response is condescending at best. "I'll get someone to walk you." Ming Yi's kidnapper dismisses, promises. "You aren't dying here."
Ming Yi thinks he's going to die regardless, from the cold, from hunger, from boredom, from time. His scream dies out inside anyways.
"God." he whispers. "You're going to ruin my life-more than."
Ming Yi was still immortal. Azure Serpent may just have taken everything from him-his place, his fate, his rightful honors and wealth and identity-but there was no way he could somehow take that, and the thought struck fear deep into him.
He was going to spend eternity here, and-
'Ming Yi' smiles.
"That's you."
3.
It took weeks for Ming Yi to settle down from shivering and weeping and praying from the break of his capture-no one was coming, not to rescue him-and far longer for him to have a sustainable conversation with the Azure Serpent without breaking into shouts and tears. Their interactions were downright civil at times.
Despite that, despite spending a hundred years with only that man, Ming Yi found it very possible develop absolutely no extensive relationship with him regardless.
Conversely-
"I cannot believe you, Webster…I come back from a century of Tong'lu torture and this is what I get?"
”No need for you to actually agree to the job.”
”Ah, but babysitting duty, didi, please, even you have to agree this is so below me...!”
Golden Star's voice is whiny and it shakes Ming Yi up from his miserable sleep in the dungeon. His bones have accustomed to the ache of being stuck here to sleep upon nothing but cold stone, but still, his naps remain light. The Earth Master lurches when he sees the other ghost king—and for a moment, hope sprung inside him before he realized just who the man was.
Ming Yi's yellow clothes are by now in tatters, dirt-brown rags worn away, dull. Compared to him, Golden Star is a beacon, cold light being emitted from the taunt-skinned corpse. For a moment, Ming Yi had thought he had been saved. Instead, he winces back as the blond Supreme- and he can tell he’s a Supreme- walks closer.
”And what do we have here?” The ghost asks. His electric, piercing, blue eyes look slightly cloudy when he judges the prisoner before him. “Didn’t know you had a human pet in here.”
Ming Yi scowled- his head resisting the urge to flinch as an unfamiliar hand reached to him. The skin was cold.
Azure Serpent-Webster-huffed. Bright eyes, yellow, looked at Ming Yi disdainfully. “He’s a prisoner.” He said. “You don’t need to be that concerned about him if you don’t want to.”
”Ha! What’s his name?”
"Ming Yi." Webster says before the actual prisoner could respond. He sounds out the syllables cleanly, spitting them from his mouth. It makes Ming Yi's skin crawl in indignation, but he can't say anything as Golden Star's eyes lit up, glancing from the two. His lips twitched further, spreading his white grin across his face.
"Very fitting." he said, looking at Ming Yi, the gray of his skin cracking where the smile lines should be. "Ming Yi. Did you name him that?"
"It's my actual name, sir." Ming Yi said before Webster could answer. The two ghost kings barely spared him a glance before Webster continued on.
"You're here to take care of my actual pets," Webster pointed out. "The clones are the ones keeping the bonefish and this one" he gestured to Ming Yi "-alive. That's worked all fine and well; they're more than strong enough to control either."
"Issue is, your newest serpent pet isn't so docile?" Golden Star smiled.
"No." Webster agreed. "I don't imagine Samanthy will make it easy for you-a number of my clones have already gotten mauled to pieces while trying to feed her. As you're one of the few that can actually stand to contain her without either dying or killing her off-and since I can actually track where you are at any time-I've no doubt that'll be what occupies your time."
Golden Star didn't seem to be fully listening. "I don't think your clones are doing a much good job keeping this one alive," he said. He looked at Ming Yi. "It's skin and bones."
"Care for him in your own free time, then." Webster dismissed. "Long as you don't set him loose."
"Oh, I won't." Golden Star promised, fast. Now that destroyed any chances of Ming Yi's escape. "Your gege would never betray you like that, but what'd you do to deserve getting locked up anyways?"
"He was the orig-"
"No, no. Let him speak, didi, I want to hear it."
Despite his genial tone, Ming Yi shrank himself back against the granite wall, resisting the urge to glare at the tall ghost king before him.
"I'm the original Earth Master." he said, finishing what Webster was going to say. "I was to ascend to godhood over a century ago as the Earth Master. He stole that from me, and has impersonated me in Heaven since."
Webster's eyes narrowed dangerously. They weren't directed at him.
"Oh, my? And why did he do that?"
"He wants to infiltrate the heavens and get revenge on one of the gods there."
"And which god is that?"
"I don't know." Ming Yi said.
Golden Star's face faltered-briefly. It passed too fast to be anything but a illusion. "He's fun." Golden Star determined after a second, looking towards Webster again. "I like it. You can put his tab on me now, Webster, I won't ask for extra fees."
"Don't you dare," he began, before Golden Star's grin tightened, a tense moment of silence exchanged between the two ( Ming Yi figured they were probably using a form of communication array ).
Finally, Webster relented.
"Fine." The water demon looked resigned. "I need to resume my duties now."
"Not your duties, Webster."
The water demon disappeared with a snap, leaving Golden Star to give him a reassuring look, as if noticing the discomfort.
"Always does that?" The man smiled. He held out his hand again, humming. Ming Yi did not recoil at the blackened fingers, or the purpled, partially crooked nails. "Henry Clay, by the way. I feel like you know more than you're saying."
Ming Yi wanted to shrink. Ming Yi was beginning to think he'd prefer Azure Serpent being back.
"Can't say I'm interested to indulge."
"No doubt." Clay agreed. Ming Yi stilled the flinching in his gut when he felt the cold aura of Clay's hand as he walked closer. "So what's your secret?"
4.
Doing things feels good. Doing things felt good even when it didn't help with the situation at hand. Doing things and being assured you weren't being driven mad felt so, so, good, and if Golden Star wasn't like that, Ming Yi might actually appreciate him for his kindness.
The good ( or not so good ) news of Ming Yi's capture is that Azure Serpent left enough godhood inside him so that he couldn't die of sickness or hunger or cold. It was sick and insanity-inducing. His brain felt like it was rotting out his head and quite frankly, if he wasn't physically restrained from doing that, he'd have long killed himself by now.
Henry Clay, true to his word, brings him outside.
Still in chains. And masked. And sealed.
But the outside ( actually, actually outside, not in the manor or in the lake, outside, on ground, on land in the mortal plane ) is unfamiliar, until suddenly it isn't, and everything comes crashing into him all at once. It's enough to make him weep. He's here, above ground. He's in his element and he's not imprisoned and he's free, and Ming Yi weeps and kisses the dirt and cries and cries and cries.
He convinces Golden Star who convinces Azure Serpent to give Ming Yi just enough free reign to complete small, needless, projects on the island for Azure Serpent- constructing a garden to grow essential plants, documenting the flora and fauna and resources of the region, testing the dirt and making better construction for the region. He makes a few stone paths and water routes here and there. The island's large enough and there are clones enough for projects like that, not that there's anyone to benefit from the changes.
But still, it's something to do, and Ming Yi is far, far, from being able to complain.
"You were an architect?" Clay asks, watching as Ming Yi's lugs giant buckets of mud-the wet sort, from the coastline- over to the plot, messy and unplown.
"I focused on building bridges-" Ming Yi says. "But I didn't become Earth Master from that alone."
He wondered if saying that title aboveground ( abovewater? ) would allow for the gods to finally hear him. But nothing came, and so it was likely Webster had found some way to disrupt the air alongside the waves as well.
Clay gives Ming Yi a smile as he looks over the blueprints- it's easy to forget that Golden Star's a Calamity. Ming Yi sinks his fingers into the dirt.
"What was your biggest project?" Clay asked.
"I designed the national infrastructure of Xi'an's Northern provinces by myself. I don't think it went into practice by the time of my kidnapping."
Ming Yi doesn't hide the hate. The grudge, but that word only applied to crimes that had passed and were not ongoing.
"Interesting." And then, probably saying it for the sake of it, Clay continues. "You know, I could use you for that too. Ghost City could use your expertise. Our streets have definitely seen better days...that being, before the war. I mean, I do my administrational duty, policing, regulation, and fair share of creating in my glorious City-On-A-Hill, not badly mind you. But oh, if I could get the mind of someone who was able to ascend to godhood on his building prowess alone? By heavens!"
Clay chuckled.
"Which parts are you most focused on, the roads?" Ming Yi questioned.
"Ah, I've set the plans but not the specifics," Clay's eyes twinkled. "The System isn't so much about the bolts and screws of the train as it is about having a train at all, so to speak."
Fascinating. Ming Yi rolled his eyes. "I don't do trains."
"No doubt you do not." Clay agreed, breezily. "Not in that depth. Do you mind this old Calamity helping you with that by the way?"
He shrugged, and Ming Yi stopped working, his squat straining the muscles of his legs-the pain felt fresh. He swallowed. "How about agriculture?"
Clay-Golden Star smiled, but his arms remained crossed. "Sure, but we're not planting cash crops here and this isn't Ashland." he said- Ming Yi didn't recognize the name of the last place. "And these beasts aren't horses."
"Well you volunteered." he muttered, watching as Golden Star gave a solemn sigh.
"I like blueprints." He said casually. It sounded...sinister, to Ming Yi's ears. The black-haired prisoner grimaced. "A bit different from actual blood and labor."
"You're right." Ming Yi responded tersely. "One of those is a lot more useful in practice."
5.
Webster came back to the dungeon still wearing his divine clothing-clothes like an Emperor's. He at least honored Ming Yi enough to not wear Ming Yi's face, not reminding him of what he could have.
He didn't always do that.
Clay grinned sweetly.
"Flaunting it again?" he goaded, on the dirty ground. Webster's dark, obsidian-like eyes blinked, confused as he stared down at the other ghost king-sitting on the dirty prison floor. Like a servant.
"Do you want me to chain you up here too?" he asked, as Ming Yi takes stock of what Webster had, what could be his. The swirls, on his clothing, the tassels of rope and feathery silk. They clung to braids of leather decorating his belt.
Webster wore his (his) Earth Master outfit orange and brown-Ming Yi thought if it was him he'd wear paler yellows and cream, but he wouldn't know.
Somehow, as Clay continued exchanging jabs with Webster, Ming Yi found himself contemplating the shoes and bags and pendant that Webster wore, trailing his eyes up to look at the beads woven into his hair and hairband and hairpins that look distinctly gifted, belonging to some other god.
Well. Ming Yi...fidgeted, a little.
"-You could at least bring back some snacks." Clay bemoaned as Ming Yi forcibly snapped himself back to the scene at hand. The ghost king gave a whine. "You have hungry mouths to feed here, Webster."
"You have at least one spy able to do that for you. Clay." Webster grumbled back, even as the other ghost continues kneedling for a few minutes. His scowl lessons slightly as Clay left with a huff, sending one last barb back before the last of a green cloak ( still cleaner than the trash Ming Yi wore ) disappeared from Ming Yi's view.
Ming Yi felt himself still, missing the other man just as Webster spoke. The temperature felt like it dropped when Ming Yi looked up to see Webster's face, cascading hair falling to his shoulders, woven in a complex style that Ming Yi didn't have words for, only knowing that he could have.
"How was it?" his captor asked, boring into him.
"He was nicer than you," Ming Yi responded, fast. The ghost king's expression didn't change.
"Many say that," he agreed. Ming Yi prepared himself to ask, and wondered why he he hadn't before.
"What do they think I am, up there?" he asked, and then, at the risk of sounding too eager and desperate- "What do you do?"
The flicker of pity that he catches in the other man's eyes must be an illusion, Ming Yi thinks. Webster folds his hands.
"I answer your followers' prayers." Webster answerd. "As a result, I receive merits that can be used for my benefit, and for the benefit of the people. There are banquets occasionally that serve extravagant quantities of food and wine, and you have a palace dedicated to your name."
He's speaking abstractly-Ming Yi knows this already, he didn't need a demon to tell him.
"That you're living in."
"That I am living in."
"What's it like?'
There's no show of anything from Webster when Ming Yi takes in a breath. Webster's craggy mouth remains, and his jawline stiffens to an even more stoic position.
"It is good." he says at last. "An experience both of us were robbed."
The demon turns to leave.
"Wait!"
Still clad in gold, the fake Earth Master stops, turning around. Ming Yi steels. "So, the new jewelry." An eyebrow raised on the Webster's face, amused, but not kind. "From... him...wow, really?"
"You have friends," Webster said. "Or I do. They might actually like me more than you."
Ming Yi tilted his head. "Pins like that are not a friend gif-okay," he paused. "So does this mean you've stopped or took a break in your revenge quest or something?"
"Hardly."
And Ming Yi's glad he's long stifled his hope, because if he still had it, it'd be crushed. But he didn't. So instead, he gave his captor a weak, weak, smile.
"Which one is it?"
There's no need to ask who is it, obviously. It's either the Wind Master or the Water Master, people that Ming Yi does not know and will never know. People Ming Yi will never know anything about, except that they somehow wronged Azure Serpent enough to cause him to ruin Ming Yi's life in turn, and for that, Ming Yi doesn't think he will ever forgive them either.
Webster gave Ming Yi a look of contemplation. His eyes gazed over Ming Yi's body-seemingly satisfied when he concluded that his prisoner would never be able to escape.
"The older one," he concluded. It occurred to Ming Yi that this was actually a very productive conversation, considering the ones they had previously.
Ming Yi was unable to get his captor to elaborate before he left, leaving the real Earth Master into the dungeon once more. Ming Yi whirled his thoughts about in his head.
"It's the Water Master isn't it!?" he shouted after Webster. There was no response, and Ming Yi glowered, not quite wanting a confirmation anyways.
The prisoner sighed.
6.
There were two Calamities having sex with each other in the same building where Ming Yi was rotting away. The fact wasn't actually that disturbing, until he considered the fact that one of them was wearing Ming Yi's face.
And yes, his face, during sex, and Ming Yi knew this, because-
( "No." Clay said, calm. It made Webster's eyes flicker open with a start. His back sank through the layers of clothing and into the bed, Clay's hands pressed over him, fingers digging into locks of hair. Lips sank into the sliver of neck visible through the flowing cloth, warmth sending a soft shiver down both their spines. "Change back."
The ghost's voice was almost affectionate. But too cold.
"Excuse me?"
"If you're going to wear the clothes of a Heavenly Official, you might as well honor who the outfit is meant to be for."
The blond's eyes roamed the elaborate, layered clothing that Webster wore. That his disguise wore. There were five layers of golden-orange, peach, and brown-black silk covering his body, wrapping around his hands in fingerless gloves. The elaborate designs made it look like he was floating in a pool of sunlight.
None of the grandeur was meant for a demon.
Clay could tell the way Webster's face changed when he pushed his knee further up inside Webster's thighs, his head tilting to restrain a whimper at the slow movement. He's so very adorable, Clay mused. And at the moment so unsuitable for the gold that he wore. "Change back."
Webster didn't budge. "Are you kidding me? Who do you think you're fucking anyways? Me or him?"
"I'm fucking a celestial god who very generously spoiled this humble servant." Clay replied clinically, his fingers dipping through the luxurious folds, rumpling them as he trailed over warm skin. "Who has allowed this humble servant this honor of taking him in my bed."
It's not his bed. That doesn't matter. He bit at the threads of the large sleeve instead of continuing patterned with black leaves, letting himself breath in their clean scent. His hips kneaded into Webster's body. And which celestal god is that?
Webster muttered. "At this rate you might as well be fucking my laundry basket."
"Well if you don't want to change to him, maybe you should give this to me. Shouldn't gold only be for emperors?"
"And you think you're one?"
"I'm saying maybe we should switch." Long fingers tangled into the blue jewelry and jade around Webster's neck, woven around the silk. "You know, you never told me just which god you're trying to kill."
"You've already guessed." Webster determined. He looked sharply at the ghost king. "I believe you'd try to save him at my expense."
"Do you think your gege is so sentimental as to betray you for a monster that killed him too, if you recall?" Clay's skin, cold before, turned frigid. He thrusted, abruptly against Webster's hips, mouth fixed in a stony line. "I could have freed your little doppleganger ages ago, Webster, but I'm not, see? I don't care, and I'm not going to."
Webster laughed, his voice ringing loud, but not light enough. "Then what do you want my confirmation for?" he asked, goadingly. And then, as if changing the subject-
"What do you want me to do? Who do you want to pretend to be?"
A hand closed around the water demon's throat, Clay let out a thick hackle. "He didn't know he was fucking you, Webster. He thought he was doing it with the same god you have locked up in your dungeon right now."
"Mhm. And which one are you pretending as...?"
"You don't know how lucky you are."
"If you want my confirmation to soothe your internal little turmoil...you aren't getting it."
"Fine. But you aren't the only one with secr-"
"Does it look like," Impatience finally broke out through the imposter God. Webster glared. "I care?" )
7.
Sometimes, things happen that let his captivity be more bearable. Sometimes, it's even fun-though infuriatingly, indulgent. He can indulge in it too, though.
"Let's play a game." Clay notes. Ming Yi shifts his feet in the dungeon, Clay's sitting cross-legged beside him, comparatively clean in his green and shining white suit. His hair is gelled back evenly, aiding to a charming demeanor. Ming Yi's lips pursed in reluctant interest. "We make a story. I say one line, you say one line, and we'll carry the tale on that way."
Ming Yi tried to give him a contemplative look.
"It's either this or another thumb war." Clay remarked. "That you claimed I had an unfair advantage over."
"You do, your fingers are huge." Ming Yi muttered as Clay twiddled his clawed, purpled nails together. The smile on his face did not fade.
"You want to go first or me?" he asked. Ming Yi didn't volunteer, so Clay ended up shrugging his shoulders, leaning back peacefully against the prison wall. His eyes stay fixed to a spot in the distance. "Once upon a time, there was a noble cultivator." he began.
Ming Yi sighed. "The cultivator's name was Ming Yi."
Clay's ears perked up, looking over at him. "You're making this about you now?" he asked, before Ming Yi hurried him on to continue the tale. Clay rolled his eyes. "Fine. Ming Yi was a skilled cultivator, who was just about to ascend to godhood, before he was kidnapped by a vile water demon, who killed him to steal his power."
"This turned Ming Yi into a ghost, ruining his cultivation in the process."
"Terrified, Ming Yi ran back home to his family, hoping to seek support."
"But when he went back as a ghost, his family did not recognize him, thinking he was a great evil."
"Distraught by their anger, Ming Yi realized he could not convince them he was their son."
"The only one who recognized Ming Yi to be of the family was Ming Yi's mother, who thought Ming Yi was now permanently a beast."
"Ming Yi could not convince her otherwise, and threatened with dissipation, Ming Yi proceeded to eat his mother to save himself from that death."
"This upset Ming Yi, so, fueled by vengeance, Ming Yi, the newly made ghost, began eating other ghosts to resume vengeance against the water demon."
"But after a while of eating ghosts, Ming Yi began to be hunted down by another ghost himself, one that sowed destruction for him wherever he went."
"The ghost threatened to consume Ming Yi entirely if he did not man up to face the beast."
"One day he did choose to face it, and the beast and Ming Yi engaged in a frightful battle, until at last, Ming Yi won, revealing the monster was Ming Yi's mother."
"What? Oh, fine. So in horror, Ming Yi proceeded to eat his mother once more, no longer feeling kinship towards her."
"Ming Yi was now powerful enough to rec-hallenge the water demon that had originally killed him."
"After many years, Ming Yi and the water demon met each other again, engaging in a ferocious battle."
"Despite the close calls of the fight, Ming Yi was ultimately able to prevail, killing the water demon and taking his land."
"He resumed cultivation in his rage, later able to ascend to the Heavens."
"In his joy at ascension again, Ming Yi chose to revisit his family after many years, again."
"Where he discovered that his mother had been reincarnated."
"Fine. So he re-ate his mother again."
"This gave him power, yet darkened his soul."
"When the Heavenly Emperor found out that Ming Yi ate his mother once more, he cast Ming Yi down from the heavens, giving him cursed shackles to wear on his arms."
"These cursed shackles limited Ming Yi's power."
"So Ming Yi found another ghost to give these shackles onto."
"In order to trade the shackles to that ghost, Ming Yi cut off his and that ghost's hands, replacing them so that the shackles were no longer on his skin."
"This allowed him to resume his power."
"And so he was able to reascend."
"But the ghost that he had traded shackles with still sought vengeance."
"He knew that Ming Yi was powerful, and he could not beat him face to face."
"So he chose to ascend to heaven, kidnapping a heavenly official and replacing him to do so."
"In his ascension, he began to grow in strength, taking the power of the kidnapped god for himself."
"Until one day, he took Ming Yi by surprise, ambushing him to do battle."
"The two warriors fought fiercely, wrecking havoc across all three realms in their frantic battle."
"In their destruction, the Heavenly Emperor looked down, seeing the troubles wrought across the land from the fight of the two gods, and so he tossed them into the sun to spare the land."
"In the sun, the two god and ghost continued to battle, first through swords, and then with fists...and then with thumb wars."
"But Ming Yi, the god, ended up losing the fight, being obliterated by the ghost."
"Why?"
"Because he no longer had hands."
"Because he no longer has hands!?"
"He traded them earlier, remember?"
Before Ming Yi could muster it in himself to argue that if fictional-Ming Yi lost the hands that he'd taken from the ghost, then the fictional ghost would also have to lose the hands he'd taken from fictional-Ming Yi, Clay interrupted him to it.
"Am I the only calamity Webster talks about, Ming Yi?"
Ming Yi blinked. The jarring change in topic suddenly clicked in his head as Clay continued.
"Does he mention the Red General at all? White Iron?" Clay paused for a moment. "Maybe just White Iron- the Red General is so single-minded, I doubt if he ever pays any attention to anyone outside his little sand-bubbles. I don't think he knows."
The blond shook his head.
"What are you talking about?" Ming Yi wondered. Clay sighed.
"He doesn't know, and he doesn't know. I might be the only one," the ghost king determined, seemingly on his own. "One word, Ming Yi, and I could flip this all on it's head and you'd be out of here and reclaim your place on a godly throne. Do you think he'd care?"
He reached for a chained hand, patting it without moving to free it from its cuffs.
Ming Yi, at this point, was starting to suspect that his comments weren't needed for this internal monologue that Clay seemed to be having.
"Let's try for another story." he said, carefully prying Clay away from whatever he was thinking of-it didn’t matter, he clearly wasn’t going to make any moves to free Ming Yi.
"Once upon a time there was a young cultivator."
Clay waved his hand elegantly. "The cultivator's name was Henry Clay..."
8.
"Why don't you go up into Heaven too?" Ming Yi asked, with a platter of noodles tossed to his feet. "You clearly want it."
"Maybe I don't want it enough to ruin a life like yours."
That felt wrong, Ming Yi thought. Henry Clay was a ghost who would love to be up in celestial orbit, dancing amongst them, or so far as Ming Yi could tell. Or-no, what would Clay would like more, getting into heaven, or bringing it to its knees? He wasn't actually sure which.
"Do you envy that Azure Serpent's up there?"
Clay seemed to have a response ready. "Do you?"
"Yes." Ming Yi replied, fast, vehement, but with an anger that was ultimately pointless. He forced his hands to dig into themselves, long nails piercing flesh. "But this isn't about me."
Clay hmphed. "Then I suppose I'm slighted too." he agreed. "Though it's not just me, so that makes the wound better, no?"
He smiled at Ming Yi cheekily.
"Your fate was stolen from you, too?" the prisoner asked after a moment of picking at his meat. He slurped up a few strands, the dull fork spinning a particularly long one 'round over the tips. "Because I doubt you were kidnapped for over two centuries."
"No," Clay admitted. No, not admitted- "Doesn't mean I can't still want to be up there."
"But not enough to sacrifice another person to do it."
That was not the right statement. It wasn't not the right reason, judging from Clay's reaction, the way his smile strained and he tightened. Ming Yi focused back on his food, ignoring the answer that he wanted from the Supreme.
"I think it's wrong he stole that from me and now I'm here eating my meals from the floor like a dog instead of at a table like a fucking person." he said.
"It wouldn't change anything if I did that now."
"Hm. What's being a ghost like?"
"You thinking of becoming a ghost king yourself?" Clay's shoulders flexed, eyes gliding over to him-they shone near-white, still, but somehow, Ming Yi thought the color has changed since their first meeting.
"Do you instantly get unmatchable arrogance and power, or is there a beginning period?" Ming Yi clarified.
"It's always hard to get adjusted to, at first."
"Was it for you?"
To Clay's credit, he didn't take time to answer, and his face was unreadable when he responded. "Always a bit painful," he explained. "But you'll learn to work through it once you get there."
With a sigh, he looked over to Ming Yi, casually brushing dirtied, greasy, strands of hair from his face.
"The god he's searching to kill is the Water Master," Ming Yi told him. "Permanently, by the way."
Clay arched an eyebrow, the surprise looking faked, as though Ming Yi had told him something he didn't want to know (except he did-so what was it really? Denial? )
"And he's using my body to do it."
Clay gave a mutter. It sounded like a petulant 'mn.'
"...Do you know the Water Master, Golden Star?"
"It's possible." Clay agreed. Ming Yi didn't think he's mistaken for thinking there was slight fondness there, buried under clinic disappointment and hurt disregard.
"How does-" the fact that Azure Serpent wants to murder him, is currently sleeping with him "-that make you feel?"
Hardly in my place to stop him, Clay seemed to want to say, but he didn't say that so Ming Yi couldn't confirm. Clay didn't respond. Instead, he got up and left Ming Yi alone in the dungeon again before Ming Yi could continue pressing, arms folded professionally behind his back.
9.
Somehow, Ming Yi had forgotten, over the course of many many centuries, that no matter what-
he still wasn't safe.
The doors blew open with a rush, and when Daniel Webster stepped into the dungeon, he was still in his heavenly clothes, a flowing outline silhouetted starkly against the pure white boom of sea water. He looked divine, Ming Yi thought with a horrified jolt, before, I look divine.
Oh no, oh no no no
"How dare you."
Azure Serpent's voice boomed across the dungeon to him, his hair lit, wet, wild, and Ming Yi couldn't think, until the demon-ghost-god's eyes turned towards him, bright white, couldn't breathe until a clawed hand suddenly rushed to him, slamming him high against the painful stone until he couldn't breathe, dangling-
"No, no no it's not my fault-" Ming Yi pleaded, feeling horror overwhelm him. His head felt lightheaded, every sense in him screaming alight- the demon opened his mouth and Ming Yi saw teeth-
"A signal?" The demon growled. Ming Yi's skin rippled across-under- the demon's body and for the first time in a long time, Ming Yi felt a burst of rage intermingled with terror roar up inside him- fuck you, you're upset? You? All this should be mine.
"You promised-" Ming Yi snarled-he didn't mean to, but his hackles rose further-lashing his fingers out to scrape against forming scales. He could barely hear past his own rage. "I didn't do it, I won't do it-"
"And what am I supposed to do with you now?"
He phrased it like he expected an answer. Wet wisps of hair, Ming Yi's hair, stuck to Azure Serpent, Webster, Black Water's mouth.
Something in Ming Yi snapped.
"Fuck you, fuck you fu-" he began in hiss in increasing hyperventilation. "You damned hell-going bastard, you- you kept me here for fucking centuries, SIX HUNDRED YEARS OF ISOLATION AND PAIN AND FUCKING TORTURE and you DARE to expect anything from me? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"
"ROT IN HELL! YOU DON'T DESERVE SHIT, I HOPE YOU FAIL, I HOPE YOU FAIL IN YOUR STUPID VENGEANCE PLOT, YOU BASTARD FUCKING BITCH! CURSE YOU AND YOUR FAMILY, THEY ALL DESERVE TO DIE Y-"
"I don't need to tolerate this." Azure Serpent responded, his slitted eyes (slitted?) neon-bright. His claws tightened around the tendons of Ming Yi's neck and he squeezed tighter and Ming Yi spit or screamed o-
"AARH-"
A crack! split the air around them, collapsing bones interrupted by breath and then like a ragdoll, Webster flung the dead corpse against the wall, shattering it on stone.
Gh'ss!
The sound of muscle flopping against hard stone squeaked hard and painful- dead eyes letting loose a last popping sound. Silence.
Ming Yi dies staring into his own face.
10.
Ming Yi was not alive for this. But in the echoes of his consciousness that was here-
"See, I don't think it'd change anything because at this point, ascending would probably do me more harm than good, if you know what I mean."
Ming Yi, being a corpse with the skin ripped apart to reveal skeletal bone underneath, rotting in the hallway of the manor, couldn't respond, even as Clay continued to scrounge about for the remains of the god's spirit inside the dead body. His hands gently twisted the neck, sensing no disturbance under it.
"What would pretending even get me? I'd lose my city and followers-hell, I might as well just start over from scratch you know? If they really wanted to save themselves the trouble, they could've pulled me up to that city-on-a-hill of theirs far, far, earlier. Save us all the mess."
Clay paused, his eyes lighting as he suddenly sensed a flicker of soul within the body-weak, dissipating, but he scrambled for it anyways, gripping onto the energy before pulling it in, locking it within the lid of his spirit-containment jar. He examined the rest of the corpse more closely-that thin wisp of life couldn't possibly be all.
"Webster really is lucky. Vengeance is so simple-if that's all I wanted, it'd be so simple to just get up there, kill my bastard of choice off, and let myself fade, you know? But no."
Clay felt the spirit of the lead body quiver again, so he continued to speak, carefully gathering the strips of soul as he found them, measuring in his head.
"But unfortunately, that's not what I want, and I can't fix what I want to be what I have, not even now, not without sacrificing every inch I've managed to achieve-and for what, really!"
Because he doesn't want vengeance, he doesn't want Calhoun, White Iron, the Water Master to repent or apologize for killing him and he doesn't want to reconcile either, and god, Clay isn't sure what he wants, he just knows that if he doesn't try to bring Calhoun back then he won't get a chance to figure it out either.
"Which isn't-well, you aren't getting that simple of a story either, aren't you, Ming Yi?"
Henry Clay knows what he wants. He just can't get it where he is right now. The only time when he could've gotten what he wanted was-
800 years ago.
The thought of it riles him up a bit.
Clay's claws tightened.
When he thinks he's gotten all of Ming Yi's soul together into the same jar again, Clay let himself stop in his speaking.He figured against saying anything further, just in case, but-
What does Ming Yi want? He wondered, staring at the remnants of the same person, now dead. Does he want to be restored to godhood and become Earth Master after his imposter's death? Does he want to kill another Supreme? Does he want to dissipate and retreat and die? Does he not know what he wants, not because he can't decide, but because what he wants can't be gotten at the position that he now is in ( like Clay? ).
What if he wants something that he can no longer get?
"...So, six hundred full years, huh?" Clay calculated the time. What were the chances of Ming Yi coming back with a vengeance against the same ghost that imprisoned him for so long? Very high, he supposed.
Did Clay still care enough about his fellow Supreme to-
The ghost king gave a wondering huff, nails tapping idly on the corpse. "I guess I'll supplement that."
Carefully, cautiously, the ghost king picked up the dead body. He would have to make it into ashes.
11.
Here is the tale about the foolish man who built his house upon rocks...
Coming back hurt.
The voice was melodic and meandering and despite the fact that he was supposed to be dead, Ming Yi found himself-found his spirit-pulled back due to the voice. His corpse awakened with a shocked gasp and a sudden seizing before he stopped, a flurry of sudden consciousness and sensations kept in check by-talismans? a spell?
The pain from jolted muscles, his head in a cold lap, back from the dead, in a body that is decidedly not alive, a ghost.
Ming Yi's eyes widened, sight suddenly striking Golden Star again-a peaceful smile on the man's face. Ming Yi's thoughts spun in a whirl.
"I'm not supposed to be alive." he blurted, before, wait, am I free?
It took forever for him to adjust to everything of the moment, ringed hands holding him in place, the sight of what must be his own ashes contained in Golden Star's palm, the sight of his own ghost body-painless, rotting-the room where potions and spells and curses were put upon him so that what minimal shards remained of his soul after being ripped apart by Azure Serpent could be brought back-the fact that he was brought back-
So many things seen, Ming Yi's not sure how he's able to see it all-
"Azure Serpent doesn't need your body anymore," Golden Star explained. "And he got his revenge already, so I figured I might as well bring you back."
Ming Yi's jaw twitched, firming, even as he was prevented from sitting up.
"Why?" he croaked.
"Well-it turns out that the god Azure Serpent killed is someone I am fond of." Golden Star explained. "The Water Master. I figured that out after he had his head cut though."
"Uh-"
"I should probably tell you that he was also White Iron," Golden Star continued. "I know that, of course, didn't tell Azure Serpent-well, he figured it out himself after far too many centuries."
"The Water Elemental Master is White Iron Toppling Nations??"
"Mm. Bit of my own fault for not telling, but could you blame me? His cousin said not a word either, the topmost Civil God of the Heavens, keeping mum on such a matter of worldly security?"
It must've been Golden Star's transmission technique-because in a second, Ming Yi was struck by the vision of a blue-clothed god, a burning temple, a headless corpse, a burning battlefield, a white mask, a statue, a young figure with black hair-was that the Water Tyrant when he was young?
Ming Yi found his mouth dry, but not speechless. What?
"How am I supposed to help with that?" he asked, choosing to ask that question beyond Why do you think I'm helping with that and How do you think this will work. It looks like there's a halo around Golden Star's head as he explains.
"You're the architect here," Golden Star remarks, like that's supposed to mean something. "Yes, so Azure Serpent cut off the God Calamity's head, but the Water Master's fate won't end like this. Just like I didn't let yours end like that in the dungeon, no? We'll find a way to bring him back, and we'll give him a new head and body and spirit too if needed, hm?"
Frustration burrowed itself inside Ming Yi. He dismissed asking how he was back-that was unimportant to the ghost king.
"How the fuck are you planning to bring him back?"
Clay gives a dismissive chuckle. He twisted Ming Yi's ashes between his fingers, flipping it like it was a coin that he'd bought. Cold blue eyes were fond when they looked back at Ming Yi, bright and boundless as a bottle of sky.
"Does it matter?" the ghost king crooned pleasantly. "You know what I want you to do."