[pfsb]

[acrookedpath]

The latest idea that struck Wei Wuxian mid-lunch: if he combined one of the theoretical energy talismans with a paper doll, would that allow him to search the grounds for resentful energy without having to blanket the whole inn with talismans?

It seems like a sound idea! It won't replace the planned night hunt with Lan Zhan -- nor would he want it to -- but if he succeeds, it will be a fun experiment.

First, though: combining a paper doll with a simpler talisman. Which brings us to Wei Wuxian at a table underneath the Observation Window, not an inch left uncovered by his notes, scribbling onto a tiny cutout with a ballpoint pen Bar gave him. (What an invention!) He completes the last character with a flourish and waves his hand over the doll; it springs to its "feet," and, grinning, he directs it toward the empty cup perched precariously on a corner of the table.

Comments

[lightamidchaos]

He stares at Wei Ying in utter shock.

"They--"

Two hundred souls. A massacre, to give Harrow her power, a path forced on her before her birth.

"... I did not see that," he manages, finally. "Only the energy. Not what caused it."

[acrookedpath]

He forces himself to stop scraping at his notes and look up at Lan Zhan.

"I'm not sure I would have seen it either," he says. "But the first time we met, I was playing the flute outside -- trying to seek out resentful energy. And then..."

He opens his hand, like a flower unfolding. There's no humor to his smile.

"I could sense all of them, as she walked by. All at once."

[lightamidchaos]

He shakes his head, still almost disbelieving. Except, of course, that he cannot disbelieve it; no wonder she could not bring herself to confess it. As horrifying as it is, someone did this, Harrow's parents did this, and she--

You may not wish to share your gifts with a black nun once you know what I am.

He closes his eyes, then shakes his head again and opens his eyes to look back at Wei Ying.

"It does not matter," he says. "It does not ... change things."

[acrookedpath]

Wei Wuxian nods, very serious, eyes very dark.

"I did not know she kept it secret," he says, quietly, "and I blurted it aloud to her, very rudely. Do not talk about it with her unless she asks, Lan Zhan. And do not tell anyone else."

[lightamidchaos]

"I will not."

Without hesitation.

[acrookedpath]

"Good."

He's silent, for a moment -- and then the darkness lifts, the seriousness banished by another quick, teasing grin.

"I am glad it will not change anything between you and Harrow!"

[lightamidchaos]

He feels his jaw tighten.

Wei Ying is teasing him. He knows this. And yet--

You like Mianmian?

Why am I even talking to you about this.

"Ridiculous," he grits out, between clenched teeth.

[acrookedpath]

He laughs. "Ah, Lan Zhan, I am only teasing," he says, and reaches across the table to poke him with the butt of his chopsticks. "I'm glad you two are getting along!"

Truly, he is. It's what he hoped for when Lan Zhan first told him he'd spoken to the Ninth. Which, oddly, does nothing to release the queasy knot in his chest; if anything, it seems to be pulling tighter.

Maybe more food will help: he digs back into his dinner and tries to banish the thoughts from his mind.

[lightamidchaos]

Lan Wangji slants a suspicious look at him.

"Mn."

But it seems that the teasing has stopped, at least for now, and he can feel his tension relax. It is one thing for Wei Ying to tease him, and something entirely different for him to tease on this subject.

You should not flirt unless you mean it.

But that, of course, is not something he can explain.

Instead, he reaches for the teapot and refills Wei Ying's tea.

[acrookedpath]

He murmurs a cheerful thank you, takes a sip, then dives back into his food.

In the window above, the sky explodes in a silent, dazzling array, like millions of lanterns flaring brighter and guttering out in an instant. In the window looking over the lake, the sun draws lower to the horizon, darkening the grass and painting the water in streaks of orange.

"Do you still wish to explore the forest with me?" asks Wei Wuxian once he's polished off his last bite. "I can return my notes to my room before we go."

[lightamidchaos]

He himself had finished his meal a bit before, and has been absently watching and listening to the passage of people through the room as he drinks the last of his tea.

It is comfortable, spending time with Wei Ying like this.

"Yes."

As if there were no other answer to give - and as far as he is concerned, there isn't.

[acrookedpath]

He beams. "Then let me just -- "

It's rather an endeavor, gathering all his notes. They totter half a meter high in his arms by the time he scoops them all together, with the little paper doll riding on top, arm raised to shade its nonexistent eyes as if sighting the horizon. Wei Wuxian seems to have gained some skill in hauling so much paper around, however: he maneuvers along with no trouble as he rises from the table to head upstairs.

[lightamidchaos]

He watches this with increasingly fond amusement before he shakes his head and gets to his feet as well.

"Careful," he says. "Let me lead."

He moves to go ahead of Wei Ying, so that he can make sure the path across the room is clear of any obstacles that might trip him.

[acrookedpath]

He can't help but laugh a little. "Thank you, Lan Zhan," he says, only a bit sheepish.

Fortunately, no waitrats dive across their path, and no one else tries to squeeze past them on the stairs. When they reach Wei Wuxian's door, he nods to Lan Zhan to open it. His hands are full, after all!

[lightamidchaos]

He does so, and as promised, the talisman recognizes him and releases the seal.

Lan Wangji cannot help but feel a small, pleased thrill at that.

He pushes the door open and holds it, so that Wei Ying can carry his work inside.

[acrookedpath]

And Wei Wuxian sweeps inside to dump all his papers on the low table with a grunt. He shuffles the half-completed talismans out of their stacks to pin them up; they cover a third of the wall by now, loosely grouped by category, broken up by the occasional suppression talismans to make sure nothing inadvertently goes off in the middle of the night. It gives the whole place the same harried, disorganized sense as the table he'd commandeered for most of the day.

And speaking of the middle of the night: as promised, there is now a second bed alongside Wei Wuxuian's.

He grabs his flute off a low shelf and spins it between his fingers, aiming another cheery grin at Lan Zhan. "Shall we?"

[lightamidchaos]

He nods, and calls Bichen forth, holding it with comfortable ease at his side.

"Let us go."

[acrookedpath]

By the time they step outside, only a small thumbnail of sun hangs above the horizon. It slips away into darkness as they walk across the grounds, leaving bands of deep red and purple to underline the black of the sky. Out of habit, Wei Wuxian looks up to check their bearing by the stars -- but of course the stars look nothing like home.

Crickets sing all around them. Water laps the shoreline. Somewhere, distant and indistinct, comes the low voices of a few other patrons.

And as they approach the forest, Wei Wuxian raises his flute to his lips, and begins to play.

[lightamidchaos]

The music rises, twisting through the night around them and reaching through the trees, seeking, calling--

Lan Wangji walks beside Wei Ying, scanning the area around them and the woods ahead. Moonlight gleams from the white of his robes and glints from Bichen's edge.

All is quiet around them as they step into the trees. Even the demon bunnies seem to be elsewhere, for the moment. There are a few different paths to follow, if one were to so choose, as well as ample space between the trees. Some trails lead toward the lake, while some lead deeper into the forest. Not all of them show the marks of horses' hooves or people's feet.

Deeper in the forest, something stirs. Not all places here at the ends of worlds are as civilized or controlled as the inn itself, and there, at the edges of the Dreaming, wildness gathers.

It has been several years, now, since a young woman named Ava called demons from her world into this one at the lake's shore, bringing them there for a young man named Sam to practice their control and destruction.

Not all of them died.

[acrookedpath]

It is the same as before: nothing seems to answer his call. Not at first. He would grit his teeth in frustration, but that would interrupt the song.

He steps further down one of the paths that bears no footprints. The eerie, haunting music weaves ahead of them, seeking any restless spirits that may walk the grounds. It gathers them close: come, it whispers, come.

And then, suddenly, shooting back to him along the reaching thread of the music --

A tiny spark flares inside him for the first time in a month.

Wei Wuxian inhales sharply, the music stuttering to a stop as his eyes fly wide. Don't, he orders himself, keep playing, and immediately he shuts his eyes and picks up the tune again, fingers flying faster, the sound rising.

The moonlight shines bright enough that it's impossible to miss: like ink dropped in water, black energy begins to curl and rise from the flute.

[lightamidchaos]

It has been three years. Three years, since he has seen resentful energy stir and coil like that around Wei Ying.

Three years, and then--

He forces the memory away and raises Bichen between them and whatever threat lies ahead, prepared to defend should something strike.

[acrookedpath]

The black smoke swarms up his instrument. It spills over his hands and down his arms, wrapping tendrils around his body as the music takes on an unearthly hum; it rises from the crown of his head to obscure the flash of red in his hair. Wei Wuxian does not open his eyes through it all, his brow knotted as he turns the energy on itself, gathering it, preparing to redirect it even as the song continues to coax its source closer. Come. Come.

And it arrives.

The moonlight dims as two enormous plumes of black smoke arc above the trees, streaking through the sky in search of whoever has beckoned to them.

[lightamidchaos]

The small clearing in which they stand is large enough to fight. Good.

Wei Ying is standing still, eyes closed, concentrating on his music and controlling the power he now commands. Lan Wangji stands next to him, poised and ready, body humming with the anticipation that precedes action.

They are clearly visible now, writhing through the air like snakes. Ferocious ghosts of some sort, he thinks, or perhaps something else, native to this place. Resentful energy streams and flows from them like heat from fire.

They both arrow downward suddenly, one diving toward his face, and one toward Wei Ying's. A ray flashes from Bichen's edge as Lan Wangji whirls, slicing through the smoke and dissipating the first attack.

Something unearthly shrieks, and the smoke splits and passes by them, coiling around for another try. He does not let himself be drawn to follow, but stays where he is, waiting.

[acrookedpath]

He can sense their approach without opening his eyes, and feels a ripple go through their resentful energy as Lan Zhan strikes. His blood sings; he wants to smile, wants to laugh at how right this feels after too many weeks of feeling unmoored, but they cannot risk his concentration slipping now, not even for an instant.

As the ghosts circle back for another attack, a blast of energy explodes from Wei Wuxian as he raises a barrier to keep them at bay. They skitter across its surface, and he can imagine teeth bared like wolves as they fight to break through to their prey.

[lightamidchaos]

He remembers Dafan Mountain, standing back to back with Wei Ying, countering the deadly blows that lanced at them from the fog, the sense of rightness to how they fought together, in perfect balance, unthinking, without the need for speech.

This feels much the same.

One of the ghosts begins to slink along the edge of the unseen wall, trying to get behind them, seeking some weakness while the other snarls in front of them. Lan Wangji shifts instantly from stillness into fluid motion, spinning back and forth around Wei Ying in an unceasing spiral, his body and Bichen's blade together serving as an additional circle of protection as he delivers one precise strike after another through Wei Ying's spell and into the ghosts' very being.