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The rocky mountainous pass is one he hoped to never see again. The air is dry and over-warm, the metallic tang of sun-baked rocks sharp in his nose. Wei Wuxian doesn't know why he is here, or how he got here - he fell asleep in Milliways, he's sure, and the only two contact points he knows of between there and his world are Cloud Recesses and the Burial Mounds...
And this is neither of those.
"Wei Wuxian."
He spins, his heart in his throat, ambushed a second time in this narrow pass.
He last saw this man here, so he supposes he meets him again here too - in his impeccably kept robes with their Sparks Amidst Snow pattern, with an expression that his younger self always took to be arrogance, but may have been awkwardness all along.
"Jin Zixuan." The last time he saw this man, he had still been trying to make peace even as his chest had been caved in by someone who should have been under Wei Wuxian's firm control. Jin Zixuan shows no sign of his previous trauma, and Wei Wuxian reels back on his heels, disconcerted. No matter how he died, Jin Zixuan should not return as a ghost - his family is definitely rich enough and influential enough to ensure all of their (legitimate) children have the soul-settling ceremony. The the last few decades even happen? For a few horrifying moments, he is almost convinced that everything after falling into the Burial Mounds from the Wen cultivator swords was only a horrific, prolonged hallucination. That he never escaped, the resentful energy there was only keeping him still long enough to strip his bones.
On the heels of that visceral horror, though, comes relief. If he never escaped, then the war is still occurring. His shidi is out there, carrying Wei Wuxian's golden core, strong and whole. His shijie is out there, gloriously alive (and without his interference, likely to stay that way). His zhiji is alive, and will never be hurt by Wei Wuxian's numerous mistakes. He regrets that he will not be there to help his little Wen family, but... did he really help them in the end?
Did he really help anyone?
Maybe it would be better to allow the Burial Mounds to take him, and disappear from the world.
"Wei Wuxian, where is my wife and child?" The question yanks him out of his tail-spin. It could be accusing, maybe should be accusing, but it's just... plaintive. Sad.
Lonely.
"You were her protector, once. Where are they now, Wei Wuxian?"
"Jin Ling has grown up, he is a cultivator now, he has your sword." Wei Wuxian babbles, because he's well aware that he knows precious little about the boy. Much less than he should, if he was a proper uncle to him. "He has a good heart, he's a good boy, you should be proud of him."
Jin Zixuan nods, something like relief on his features, but when he speaks again, he offers no relief for Wei Wuxian.
"Where is my wife, Wei Wuxian?"
His shijie, all in widower's white, clutching her infant child to herself as she calls his name. Her tear-stained face as she ran onto the battlefield, her robes fluttering around her, her expression desperate. The last, soft touch of her hand against his jaw, as she used to so often do.
The look of determination on her face as she shoved him out of the way. The agony on her face as the blade struck.
Wei Wuxian crumples, going to his knees, into a kowtow to the man he has repeatedly righteously punched.
"Where is she, Wei Wuxian?"
The words chase him into the dark, and he wakes in Milliways sobbing.
And this is neither of those.
"Wei Wuxian."
He spins, his heart in his throat, ambushed a second time in this narrow pass.
He last saw this man here, so he supposes he meets him again here too - in his impeccably kept robes with their Sparks Amidst Snow pattern, with an expression that his younger self always took to be arrogance, but may have been awkwardness all along.
"Jin Zixuan." The last time he saw this man, he had still been trying to make peace even as his chest had been caved in by someone who should have been under Wei Wuxian's firm control. Jin Zixuan shows no sign of his previous trauma, and Wei Wuxian reels back on his heels, disconcerted. No matter how he died, Jin Zixuan should not return as a ghost - his family is definitely rich enough and influential enough to ensure all of their (legitimate) children have the soul-settling ceremony. The the last few decades even happen? For a few horrifying moments, he is almost convinced that everything after falling into the Burial Mounds from the Wen cultivator swords was only a horrific, prolonged hallucination. That he never escaped, the resentful energy there was only keeping him still long enough to strip his bones.
On the heels of that visceral horror, though, comes relief. If he never escaped, then the war is still occurring. His shidi is out there, carrying Wei Wuxian's golden core, strong and whole. His shijie is out there, gloriously alive (and without his interference, likely to stay that way). His zhiji is alive, and will never be hurt by Wei Wuxian's numerous mistakes. He regrets that he will not be there to help his little Wen family, but... did he really help them in the end?
Did he really help anyone?
Maybe it would be better to allow the Burial Mounds to take him, and disappear from the world.
"Wei Wuxian, where is my wife and child?" The question yanks him out of his tail-spin. It could be accusing, maybe should be accusing, but it's just... plaintive. Sad.
Lonely.
"You were her protector, once. Where are they now, Wei Wuxian?"
"Jin Ling has grown up, he is a cultivator now, he has your sword." Wei Wuxian babbles, because he's well aware that he knows precious little about the boy. Much less than he should, if he was a proper uncle to him. "He has a good heart, he's a good boy, you should be proud of him."
Jin Zixuan nods, something like relief on his features, but when he speaks again, he offers no relief for Wei Wuxian.
"Where is my wife, Wei Wuxian?"
His shijie, all in widower's white, clutching her infant child to herself as she calls his name. Her tear-stained face as she ran onto the battlefield, her robes fluttering around her, her expression desperate. The last, soft touch of her hand against his jaw, as she used to so often do.
The look of determination on her face as she shoved him out of the way. The agony on her face as the blade struck.
Wei Wuxian crumples, going to his knees, into a kowtow to the man he has repeatedly righteously punched.
"Where is she, Wei Wuxian?"
The words chase him into the dark, and he wakes in Milliways sobbing.
