Work Text:
“—and after doing that for a couple thousand more years, your punishment will be all done!” Kui Mulang could only stare at the dragon who stood so naively in front of him, blinking big green eyes in his direction. If there wasn’t a golden collar around his throat inhibiting his powers, he’d grow to ten times his size and snap his jaws.
Instead, he watched Ao Lie patiently walk him through his new duties at a sluggish pace. The Heavens decided keeping him as a keeper to the Trigram Furnace was ample punishment for his misdeeds, and he could easily picture why. The boredom of these tasks is enough to make him give up his mortality again.
Stupid celestials making him immortal so now he can’t wait for his love on Earth. They said they’d allow his “giving up of godhood” afterward, but he doubted it. It’s too big of a gap in time for him to be gone. With his luck, his maiden will be reborn and dead while he’s serving his punishment. His future is shot.
“What’s wrong?” Ao Lie tilted his head to the side, white hair trailing toward the ground.
“No one enjoys punishment, dragon,” he snarled, ignoring the pettiness rolling in his gut. He couldn’t even keep his fancy robes, so this chosen one is here in a spotless hanfu despite his travels, radiating princely opulence along with doofishness. Mulang is in rags by comparison, old hand-me-down robes that the celestials haven’t gotten around to patching. He knew they wouldn’t be fireproof either, so he’ll just burn them to crisps by the end of the month.
Alone and humiliated, except Mulang’s not left alone by him and he refuses to see how embarrassing this is. He’s not a child, he knows how to keep a furnace! Ao Lie pouted as he thought, then snapped his fingers under his sleeve.
“Aw, you must be lonely! The Heavenly Mansions didn’t really live here, did they? You had your own part of the Celestial Realm, and now you’re stuck in the palace where you don’t know anybody. Cheer up, friend. You’ll have some buddies soon, I know it.”
“And who would hang around a prisoner enough to be buddies?” Mulang sneered.
“Me! Oh, wait.” He brushed his wrist over his mouth, looking apologetic. “I have the journey, so I can’t stay here, actually. Tripitaka’s probably expecting me to be back right now.”
“Then go.”
“But you’re still sad! Here, I know, I’ll call the other constellations to—”
“Don’t you dare!” If any of the other stars saw that the Wood-Legged Wolf was brought down to this level, he could never face the shame. Leaving the skies was his own choice in his own control, even if it made him a demon. Being stripped of that right and forced back to celestial status as a prisoner is poem-worthy mockery. Mulang fixed his appearance the best he could, grimacing at the loose rope he had to tie his hair with instead of a beautiful hairpin. “I will adjust over the course of my penance. Please, go back to your companions.”
“You don’t have to be strong for me.”
“I’m not. I’m simply asking you to leave.”
Ao Lie looked uncertain, but bowed anyway as a farewell. He walked out, occasionally stopping to glance behind him.
Finally, he’s alone. Mulang sighed, readying to sit on the ground. As if on command, glowing chains appeared around his wrists and ankles. Immortals don’t need breaks to survive, so they don’t have the luxury. He straightened again to avoid the uncomfortable manacles, studying the fire. It doesn’t need tending yet. He’ll just have to stand and wait.
“Hey, actually—”
“Gah!” Mulang hopped back, flinching from Ao Lie when he popped out of the corner of his eye. “Why are you back?”
“I had an idea. What if I ask someone to keep you company?”
“Not the stars.” Anyone but the stars.
Ao Lie snorted, shaking his head. “No, like a pet. No one to be all bummed that you’re bummed when it’s a pet, right? Piggy always makes me happy with his Pigginess, and Monkey’s so soft to the touch that it’s calming, and—”
“I understand,” Mulang interrupted, “but I do not need you to bring me an animal.”
“Not an animal animal. An immortal animal. Otherwise it’ll just die. Here, watch.” Ao Lie rolled up his sleeves, showing porcelain claws that curled off his fingers long enough to tear flesh. He pressed them into the floor, and complicated script wove itself in his wake, green energy glittering off a complicated seal that stung the tile. A flash of light forced Mulang to cover his eyes.
When he opened them again, two giant beasts stood in front of him. They were crimson like fire, the symbols of the truest flame emblazoned on their harnesses. Manes of deep brown puffed out and tufted their tails, blue noses twitching at every smell. Long, pale fangs poked out of dripping maws.
Mulang wrapped his arms around himself in a tight hug, wondering if they could smell fear. They can’t tear him apart, but they can have fun tossing him back and forth while he feels the pain of every moment. “What are these?”
“Lions! You’re a lion, so I thought you would like them.”
“Wolf.”
“Hm?”
“I’m a wolf.”
“Oh. Well…uh…” Ao Lie glanced between his creations and Mulang. “I guess they’re not lion lions, they’re kinda doggy, so that’s like being a wolf. Wolves are just lion dogs, really. I tried to make them your color, but when you take green and make it yellow I got red somehow? Hm.”
“Great…”
“But they’re immortal! Even after you’re done serving your time, they’ll be here for the next person. They’re perfect.” Ao Lie’s eyes unfocused, long ears suddenly poking out of his hair like a horse’s. They flicked to listen to something off in the distance before hiding themselves again. “Tripitaka got kidnapped again, I really have to go this time. Goodbye, Yellow Robe Demon, I’ll come visit!”
“I—” Mulang clamped his mouth shut, crossing his arms. He’s not the Yellow Robe Demon anymore, nor is he the Wooden-Legged Wolf. He’s just some joke, a loose thread that no one cares about. Ao Lie stepped in the center of the seal on the ground, the writing changing as he did so he could teleport away. When the dragon was gone, so was the writing, leaving nothing for Mulang to escape with.
The lions looked down at him.
Mulang looked up at them.
What else was there really to do? He watched one of them pad over to the furnace, poking its nose into the flames. So they’re fireproof. The other lion curled up on the floor with a chuff.
Mulang reminded himself that Ao Lie wasn’t stupid enough to make a harmful mystical construction, walking over to the lion on the ground. He pressed his palm into the mane, waiting for the lion to bite his arm off. It didn’t. Actually, it was pretty soft. Not that much-too-soft of some artisans that try to be light as clouds, but the believable kind, rich silks and delicate velvet.
Mulang stared at his ankles as he climbed onto the lion, leaning into its touch. No cuffs appeared forcing him to stand again. So it seems that it’s just sitting on the floor like a vagrant that’s disallowed. He can handle that.
The second lion lumbered over to where Mulang lay on his companion, pressing its paw into his hip. Mulang shrugged, patting his knee to express permission. A heavy head rested in his lap, waiting for him to scratch behind its ears.
He’ll still have to do his job, but with two creatures that understood the fire and kept him company, this won’t be so bad. He still didn’t get how this random dragon was able to make something that in tune with the element when he’s obviously not a fire spirit, but Mulang can sweep that under the rug for now.
The lions can wake him up when it’s time to work.