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It was a small thing. Something completely average, so minute, so unremarkable, as to be ignored– and yet. Yet.
He was used to the sound of wildlife and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. Used to the deep, slow breath of the earth, each inhale and exhale measured in years. Used to the unchanging seasons here, sealed under the mountain with reams of chains and talismans. Even the pain of his wounds became a foundation under his feet than agony. He could only measure time by songs and silence, and the routine appearance of his nephew at his side.
The sound of footsteps on grass roused him from his fugue state. It didn’t sound, or feel, like a spiritual or demonic cultivator. The footsteps were clumsy and loud.
So was the swearing.
Tianlang-Jun was amused despite himself. Even his roiling anger was banked to embers; this situation was unique and interesting. Anything to break the boredom was welcome. Even when he called his nephew to kill whomever dared tread upon his solitude, it would be a distraction in the meantime.
The figure that appeared shocked him into silence for a couple of reasons.
First was the complete lack of awareness. Tianlang-Jun was not inconspicuous. Not at all! In fact, he would say that the very arrangement of the area he was currently sealed within was designed to bring attention to his broken body. Even in the depths of his rage he knew that, ugliness or not, he was a sight to behold. So this being just not noticing was something of a miracle. A strange, funny, useless miracle.
Second was their appearance. They had shamefully short hair, which neither demons nor humans would ever touch on the other. They wore a strange style of clothing in a fashion he’d never seen before. And it was indeed fashion– the hems were even and styled deliberately and with great skill. The dye of the fabric and the threads in the stitches was incredibly even without any inconsistencies or splotching.
“What the fuck is this, huh?” the being asked, seemingly to themself, or to the air. “I certainly don’t recognize it, and there’s no trails anywhere. Not even whatever brought me here.”
“This is Bai Lu Mountain,” Tianlang-Jun said, unable to resist such a perfect opening. Never let it be said that he didn’t know his cues!
The being jumped in place, shrieking in surprise, much like cat demons startled by oddly shaped vegetables could be.
“What the fuck!” the being screamed. They stumbled in place before catching themself, then clutched at their chest like their heart was in danger of failing. They whirled around until their gaze finally landed on Tianlang-Jun.
Now that they faced him, he could tell more about their appearance. Their eyes were dark brown and hidden by glasses, and their short hair framed their face in a neat wave. Shameless or not, the hairstyle was deliberate instead of the usual chopped off mess that criminals and exiles were prone to.
“Who the fuck are you?” the being asked. They scanned his ugly and terrible appearance over, face scrunched up as if they smelled something bad. “And what the fuck happened to you? How are you alive?”
“How rude,” Tianlang-Jun said, greatly amused. It seemed even his imagination exceeded his expectations. He’d remember this conversation happening for many years. The strange circumstance might even distract him longer than just singing did. “Normally the person visiting would introduce themselves first.”
“Normally people in a dream know everything I know,” the being retorted with a very cute scowl. They were trying very hard to be fearsome, but instead they resembled a kitten.
This being was not a cat demon, but Tianlang-Jun felt comfortable thinking that they were related to some type of feline entity. Which was lovely! Cats were such entertaining creatures, and cat demons even moreso. His best and most loyal had been cat demons, though they often roamed where they wished with little regards to where he was. Those cat demons had stayed away from Bai Lu Mountain, but his nephew mentioned they skulked in the area.
“A dream?” Tianlang-Jun asked, thoughtfully.
He was not well versed in dreams, but he had thought his mind well defended against them, through nature and training. Dream demons were rare as well, and he couldn’t think of any reason why one would try. Even if his current situation would allow dream demons and some other ilk to worm their way in.
“Dreams can be shared, so how would I know anything you would?” Tianlang-Jun said.
The being’s scowl disappeared, only to be replaced by confusion. “What do you mean? There’s no such thing.”
“Then you must not be well traveled, if you don’t know such a simple thing,” Tianlang-Jun said.
It had been generations since dream demons were populous enough to be used in such a way, but he knew the stories. They had once been used to bring Heavenly Demons together over long distances, to trade stories and to spread news. He’d once imagined tracking one down to bring into his services.
Tianlang-Jun watched as the being’s expressions changed. They went through an extensive mental monologue, all shown clearly on their face. He placed the being as young in truth, and not just appearance.
“I suppose not,” the being said with great reluctance.
They walked closer to him, footsteps loud in the relative quiet, until they reached the edge of the power the talismans exuded. It wasn’t anything a decent cultivator, spiritual or demonic or otherwise, couldn’t tolerate. But this being seemed to lack any at all, and the pressure stopped them from moving closer.
They frowned and pressed a hand out, and it was as if they pressed it against a plane of glass. They shook their head and then shook their head out, as if their hand was filled with pins and needles. That had been a novel sensation Tianlang-Jun had savored when it first happened to him.
“This one is Tianlang-Jun,” he introduced himself first, deciding to be courteous as thanks for the entertainment.
“A lord? Lord of what?” the being aksed quietly to themself. Then, louder and clearly, “I’m Shen Yuan.”
That first meeting started it all. Tianlang-Jun didn’t know what to expect, and still didn’t.
Shen Yuan continued to visit, though the visits were sporadic and without pattern. Time seemed to pass differently for them both, even disregarding Tianlang-Jun’s own stagnation underneath chains and talismans.
Tianlang-Jun did know a few things.
One, this happened in the realm of dreams, though this one was distinct to the ones he was familiar with. One of Shen Yuan’s visits coincided when his nephew was around, and his nephew confirmed that no one else had been there. This dream also lacked the distinct scent of demonic energy that would reveal a dream demon.
Second was that Shen Yuan seemingly didn’t remember these visits when he was awake. He appeared during very visit ready to continue their conversations where they left off without acknowledging that time passed. Shen Yuan’s strange outfits changed with each visit, though some pieces were reused occasionally, speaking of a large but not unlimited wardrobe. He also aged in that human manner.
Third was that Shen Yuan had no idea what was going on regarding the dream. He did not recognize Tianlang-Jun, either as a demon or by his title. He did not have cultivation in any capacity– including the spark of spiritual energy Tianlang-Jun had thought necessary for life. He thought cultivation was a myth. He did not know about demons.
Tianlang-Jun knew about different Realms and Planes of existence– the Human Realm, the Demon Realm, and the Heavenly Realm were the three most well known, but not the only ones. Secret Realms and other assorted Planes dotted the world with no rhyme or reason. Tianlang-Jun had visited quite a few.
Shen Yuan was from somewhere else. From an entirely different world, with very little similarities to the ones that Tianlang-Jun was familiar with. A separate world like a separate branch on a tree, only meeting each other by wind whipping them closer together.
Something about the weight of the chains and talismans, strong enough to seal a Heavenly Demon, caused enough of a gravity well in the fabric of the world itself that allowed the visits to happen. Even if they could only occur in a dream.
Once he learned more about it, Tianlang-Jun found himself looking forward to the visits. They were a spot of uniqueness and freedom from pain in the landscape of his prison. They were a distraction from his rage and pain and utter boredom.
The boredom was the worst part, truly. He sang songs for many reasons, some of which his nephew seemed to think he knew. But, truly, honestly, the main reason Tianlang-Jun sang was because there was nothing else to do.
So, yes, he looked forward to the meetings.
It was like an ink wash painting. Slow, irrefutable, and beautiful. It took time and patience, but slowly, surely, Tianlang-Jun came to realize that he and Shen Yuan were friends. That he trusted Shen Yuan, as much as he could trust any human.
It was probably because Shen Yuan was from a different world.
Truth and honesty were hard things for demons, who normally used them as weapons. Harsh truths and brutal honesty were easy to use as weapons. They were used for striking down prey, enemies, and inconveniences down with little issue.
Baring your soul was like baring your neck, and that was a weakness no demon would ever allow themselves to show.
Tianlang-Jun had already been brought down low. The easy peace and lack of pain in these dreams, for all that he could not move, were a balm. He still stoked and banked his rage at the world in turn. But Shen Yuan was not of the world.
So, like a skittish prey animal– everything that he was not, even here like this– Tianlang-Jun took his soul and stepped into the clearing of honesty with hesitant and shaking steps.
Metaphorically.
He still couldn’t move.
As time and these visits passed, Tianlang-Jun learned more about Shen Yuan. Because it was a dream, or for some other reason that Tianlang-Jun was not privy to, Shen Yuan spoke frankly with him as a confidant. He didn’t seem particularly concerned as to why Tianlang-Jun was in the position he was in, only that they could speak to each other.
Shen Yuan was a young human, not just young in appearance. He was nearly an adult. He was nearly grown, but not fully, and he continued to grow through these visits. He was kind, even if he spoke uncouthly– by choice, as he could speak as well as any lord if asked to. His bizarre standards of dress, speech, and morality, spoke of a much kinder world.
Each piece of information came slowly. Not because Shen Yuan hid information, but because he didn’t speak about himself often. Learning anything about Shen Yuan was like tending to a garden; planting seeds and caring for them until they sprouted green growth.
Shen Yuan had a family– parents, two older brothers, and a younger sister. His family were powerful merchants, and everyone in his family worked in that business as they grew old enough to be put to work. Shen Yuan spoke about his interests– zoology and literature– and how he planned to use those interests to help his family. He spoke about what he learned in school and the friends and acquaintances he made there. Simple things that made up the tapestry that was ‘Shen Yuan.’
In return, Tianlang-Jun talked about himself. His family, all deceased save his nephew. His power and how he achieved it. His interests in stories, and songs, and the beliefs he held in this world of his.
Eventually, even how Tianlang-Jun ended up sealed under the mountain.
Shen Yuan’s reaction to that knowledge was vindicating. He was indignant on Tianlang-Jun’s behalf. Shen Yuan didn’t know about the longstanding enmity between demons and humans. He only knew what Tianlang-Jun told him– with the same brutal honesty that demons used. Because Tianlang-Jun didn’t downplay his own role in the situation, as much as it burned.
“It’s stupid!” Shen Yuan yelled once his rage cooled to a simmering anger. “They’re stupid– you’re stupid! This whole world is stupid!”
“Perhaps,” Tianlang-Jun said, amused. Even his anger was cute, since it was so ineffective. “But it’s all any of us know.”
“Then you need to learn something new,” Shen Yuan snarled. He swore then pulled off his glasses to rub his face. “It’s not– that kind of thing, it’s not sustainable. Not in the long term.”
“It has been this way for thousands of years,” Tianlang-Jun said.
“Then it’s been dying for thousands of years,” Shen Yuan said bluntly. He put his glasses back on and glared into the distance. “You’re dying, too, you know? Slowly. I don’t know how I know, but I know.”
“I am,” Tianlang-Jun admitted easily, because he was. He simply regenerated more blood than he lost, for now. Eventually even that would not be enough.
Shen Yuan huffed, rolling his eyes at how nonchalant Tianlang-Jun was about his whole situation. It was as much for show as it was honest worry.
“There’s more to it,” Shen Yuan said after a moment. “The why you were sealed.”
“Is that so?” Tianlang-Jun asked.
“Yeah,” Shen Yuan said. He turned to look Tianlang-Jun over, paying attention to the chains and talismans. He’d looked them over many times, but now there was an extra element to that look. “There’s something…”
“If you can think of anything, let me know,” Tianlang-Jun said.
“I will,” Shen Yuan promised.
Tianlang-Jun knew he would. It was unlikely anything would come of it, but Shen Yuan would do his best. That much he trusted.
Tianlang-Jun didn’t know how it started, but Shen Yuan began reciting stories for him.
First it was a simple retelling. It started off a bit rough, but as time passed, Shen Yuan got better at reciting and conveying the stories themselves. Slowly he used embellishments and character voices, the cadences of a true storyteller.
It was enthralling. Shen Yuan was good at it. His world had many good stories. Most of what Shen Yuan chose to tell him in the beginning were those that didn’t require explanation to understand specifics. As he told more stories, Shen Yuan got comfortable with stories that required context, and teaching Tianlang-Jun the necessary information.
Tianlang-Jun learned a lot about the world Shen Yuan lived in from the stories he told. He missed a lot of the context and implicit understanding Shen Yuan’s own people would have regarding them, but he could read between the lines just fine.
Shen Yuan shared what he could of his world with Tianlang-Jun in his own way.
Tianlang-Jun did the same. Shen Yuan listened with rapt attention, especially when he sung. The stories were harder, but Tianlang-Jun had memorized all of the songs. Some were scandalous and flustered Shen Yuan, who was inexperienced in that manner. Some were dramatic or childish, and that made him roll his eyes.
Some were… softer. Subtler. Gentler. Those made Shen Yuan silent as he listened intently.
Shen Yuan wasn’t as ‘politically’ driven as Tianlang-Jun. Shen Yuan lived a life of safety; his family was wealthy enough to tend to his needs and wants. His status as a third son was stable enough for him to explore his interests. He was young and sheltered, and lacked life experience in many areas.
But there were some things that translated across worlds easily, and stories were the best way. Tianlang-Jun could teach Shen Yuan in this way, and so he did.
And then.
A change.
It was… not a small thing.
Shen Yuan was seated on a boulder that had quickly become his spot. It was as close as Shen Yuan could get to Tianlang-Jun without the pressure from the chains and talismans harming him. There was no true pain here in the dream, but the danger still existed.
“Did you know there are people that can see the future in their dreams?” Shen Yuan asked, arms wrapped around his shins, and chin resting on his knees. He looked at Tianlang-Jun curiously.
“No, though there are diviners and seers,” Tianlang-Jun said, and then explained further, because Shen Yuan was nothing if not curious. “Demons have no power over the future, and the dream realm here is strictly a demonic realm. If there are humans who can use it, it is strictly guarded knowledge.”
By the Heavens, most likely. They were covetous bunch. A bit of blood magic and cultivation and they tossed his ancestors from the very skies.
“Dreamseers are uncommon but well known,” Shen Yuan said. He smiled wryly. “At least in some worlds. I’m not one, and there’s no proof they exist in mine.”
Tianlang-Jun snorted at the human who had been sharing dreams with him for quite some time. Shen Yuan had told him previously that sharing dreams and dream realms didn’t exist, either.
“They’re just stories, you said,” Tianlang-Jun said.
“The thing is, I don’t think I’m supposed to know,” Shen Yuan said. He looked off into the forest again with a thoughtful expression on his face. Then, much later, “Tianlang-Jun?”
“Hm?”
“Do you trust me?” Shen Yuan asked.
Yes.
“It depends on what you need my trust for,” Tianlang-Jun said in what he thought was a very reasonable tone.
Shen Yuan snorted, then turned back to him to look him directly in the eyes. It was a bit awkward due to the physical distance between them. Yet it pierced Tianlang-Jun to the core.
“I’m going to get you out,” Shen Yuan said, brown eyes glowing. Not with spiritual energy, but with– something. A power that did not exist in Tianlang-Jun’s world. “This, I promise you. I don’t know how, I don’t know when. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But I promise.”
Tianlang-Jun breathed, and the flicker of rage burned deep in his belly. He blinked once and Shen Yuan was gone. His injuries and the pain flared to life as he woke up.
Promise, huh.
What a thing.
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