Chapter Text
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by
Fall Out Boy
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“Urgent delivery for Lady YanLi, Lord ZiXuan, and the Little Mistress!”
OuYang ZiZhen was sweating—something that rarely happened to the speedy messenger god. After he’d become one with the Spirit of Messages a century ago, he rarely felt fatigued or even out of breath. Even when the sun was scorching and the winds were dry, OuYang ZiZhen was able to swiftly deliver messages without issue.
But not today.
Despite feeling the cold night breeze brush his skin, attempting to cool him down, OuYang ZiZhen could not stop sweating.
Suddenly, the temple door burst open.
“ZiZhen!” a young, angry voice called, “How many times have I told you to-”
“It got your attention, didn’t it?” was OuYang ZiZhen’s response to the angry God of Spring, “It’s better than calling you ‘A-Ling.’”
Jin Ling was not pleased, “Why are you and JingYi like this? Do I not have a normal name? Or do your mouths and ears not work properly?”
OuYang ZiZhen ignored him as he searched his massive satchel for the three letters, “Where are they- Ah! Here they are! These are for you, Lady YanLi, and Lord- wait, no, that one’s for Lord ZiXun, not your father. Here, this one is for Lord ZiXuan.”
Jin Ling frowned as he took the letters, “…Our names are all in the same handwriting. Did the same person send each of us a letter? Why not just send one?”
OuYang ZiZhen didn’t respond. When Jin Ling looked up, he was already gone, off to deliver his next letter.
Jin Ling was stunned, “What in the-”
“A-Ling,” came a gentle voice from behind him, “Was that A-Zhen?”
The noise had summoned the Goddess of Earth from her garden, as evident from the dirt on her hands and the group of Earth Wisps trailing her.
“Mn,” Jin Ling responded as he handed a letter to his mother, “He brought one for all of us.”
Jiang YanLi raised an eyebrow, “One for all of us? At this time of night? Why?”
“How should I know?” Jin Ling answered in an annoyed voice, “He was sweating everywhere, then took off without saying anything! What nerve!”
Jiang YanLi became even more concerned, “A-Zhen? Sweating?”
Jin Ling had summoned one of his Spring Wisps and was tying Jin ZiXuan’s letter to its back, “He said something about this being urgent. Is Father still in the mortal realm?”
Jiang YanLi nodded, “He’s making sure his Summer Wisps are doing their jobs properly. We don’t want a repeat of last year’s late summer.”
Jin Ling nodded to show he’d acknowledged his mother’s point, then spoke to his Spring Wisp, “Take this to Father right away.”
The Spring Wisp did as it was told, running on all fours to the edge of the cloud they were on and jumping off into the world below.
As that happened, Jiang YanLi opened her letter and started to read, “…‘You, Jiang YanLi, are asked to attend an urgent meeting tomorrow at the Spirit Forest. Be there before noon.’”
Jin Ling saw red, “What language! Who dares speak to a goddess like that?!”
Jiang YanLi searched the page, “It doesn’t say… Wait, there’s something here at the bottom of the page. It says it’s signed by… BaoShan SanRen?!”
Jin Ling’s eyes widened, “BaoShan SanRen?! The BaoShan SanRen?!”
Jiang YanLi could only nod.
Jin Ling couldn’t believe his ears, so he quickly opened his own letter to confirm. Of course, it said exactly the same thing. Bewildered, Jin Ling looked to his mother, “I don’t believe it… What does that ancient Goddess of Time want with us?!”
Jiang YanLi shook her head, unsure how to respond. After all, it had been over a millennium since BaoShan SanRen had been heard from, let alone seen.
What could possibly cause her to act now?
Deciding that pondering would get them nowhere, Jiang YanLi put an arm around her son and guided him inside, “We’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to see, won’t we?”
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All over Olympus, gods and goddesses awoke to the sound of knocking or yelling by OuYang ZiZhen. Many wanted to strangle the boy for disturbing them, but the minute they read their letter, their rage turned to shock, allowing the God of Messages to escape to the next temple.
However, the lighter his satchel felt, the more the terrible feeling in his stomach grew.
He had been tasked with delivering a letter to every single god in existence.
That in itself wasn’t a daunting task. His powers allowed him to track down whoever he needed to deliver a message to, and his speed got him there faster than any of his Message Wisps could ever fly, so he was fine with his job. In fact, he enjoyed personally delivering messages to other gods, so he rarely had his wisps do it for him.
But this time…
This time he might have to.
Every god meant every god, and there was one god no one wanted to mess with.
The cursed god, Wei WuXian.
The God of Death, Wei WuXian, was feared more than anyone else on Olympus. Not only did he control the souls of the dead, but his curse allowed him to kill gods. Admittedly, it had been quite a useful power during the Sunshot Campaign a millennium ago, but after that…
Well, everyone knew what type of person he truly was after he’d tried to kill his own sister.
Some claim the curse made him insane, while others insist he had always been that way. OuYang ZiZhen wasn’t quite sure which he believed, but he did think Wei WuXian had to have been somewhat deranged for the Spirit of Death to have chosen him in the first place. What sane person would want to kill people for eternity?
On the other hand, he’d seen the sad look Jiang YanLi would get whenever her brother was brought up, and couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something.
“He’s a sweet boy,” she would say, “A-Xian was just angry, that’s all.”
In any case, that incident had been the last straw. If he was willing to kill his sister in a fit of anger, then what’s to say he wouldn’t kill anyone else? However, before anyone could act, Wei WuXian fled to the Underworld, sealing the doors behind him.
Nobody had heard from him since.
As OuYang ZiZhen stared at those very doors, this story was all he could think of.
The large, black iron doors covered the entrance to a cave—the only way to enter the Underworld. The right door was engraved with images of happiness and hope, showing what would happen to souls deemed to have been ‘good’ in life. The door showed banquets and souls draped in lavish clothing, all with smiles on their faces. On the left side, however, were images of all the punishments that would befall any soul deemed to be ‘evil’. It was almost as if OuYang ZiZhen could hear the screams coming from the mouths of the torched as they paid for their crimes for eternity.
These images did not help ease the messenger god’s anxiety.
How the hell am I going to deliver this letter to him?! The God of Messages thought despairingly. Am I supposed to knock? Or maybe call for him? But what if he doesn’t answer? Or worse, what if he does?! What if he opens those doors and lets me in? Will I be trapped in the Underworld forever? Will he kill me?!
The more he thought about it, the less courage he had. Just as he was thinking about sending one of his wisps down if the doors opened up, he heard the faint sound of whistling, followed by laughter.
He turned to watch as a Death Wisp appeared from below the clouds, whistling as it guided a child’s soul to the entrance of the Underworld. The child laughed as she played with her guide, entranced by the sound it was making and fascinated by the glowing orb at the tip of the creature’s tail. The child chased after the Death Wisp, occasionally reaching up to grab its tail, but always falling short. However, the creature didn’t seem to mind; it looked quite happy to play with the child—zipping around her head and occasionally hiding from her just so it could fly out and surprise her, thus causing the child to laugh once again.
The scene felt sickening to OuYang ZiZhen.
How dare he take the life of a child , the God of Messages thought to himself, What purpose does it serve?
The Death Wisp noticed he was standing there, watching it work. It looked surprised, so it quickly beckoned the child to the right door. Once she got close enough, the wisp and the child phased through the door and disappeared.
Minutes later, another Death Wisp appeared from the closed doors, apparently summoned by the other one. Its arms were crossed and its head was tilted, as if questioning why a god was waiting outside the entrance of the Underworld.
Realizing this, OuYang ZiZhen panicked, “Um… I have a letter addressed to your lord. It’s urgent, so do you mind giving it to him for me?”
The God of Messages gently placed the letter on the ground…
…then ran away as fast as he could.
The Death Wisp shook its head in annoyance, then went to check out the letter. Its master hadn’t had any contact with the other gods in over a thousand years, so why would they send something to him now? However, its curiosity got the better of it, and it agreed.
It picked the letter off the ground, turned around, and phased through the door once again—letter and all.
With the letter in its arms, the Death Wisp descended into the darkness, flying down the long, dark staircase, through the mouth-like entrance to the Underworld, over the glowing city of the dead, and into the giant Temple of Death—Wei WuXian’s residence.
Wei WuXian himself was sitting on his bed, absorbing energy from the earlier Death Wisp. His long, unkempt black hair was full of tangles, causing it to stand up in weird angles; his black robes were messy and stained, as if he hadn’t bothered to change them for a few days; on his feet were an old, worn-out pair of sandals, dirtying the bed as he moved.
Calling his appearance ‘a mess’ would be a fair assessment.
“A child, huh?” the God of Death said while absorbing the energy the Death Wisp had brought him, “Poor thing. What caused it?”
The Death Wisp looked down, ashamed.
Wei WuXian sighed, “So it was a disease.”
The Death Wisp started bowing profusely, apologizing for its failings.
Wei WuXian laughed as he finished absorbing energy, “It’s alright; these things happen. I’m sure you did your best. Just be more careful next time, okay?”
The wisp nodded, thanking its master for being so forgiving.
“Is she being looked after?”
The wisp nodded, making a few gestures as it did.
“Her grandparents, huh? Good. Tell them to watch her until her parents join us.”
The wisp nodded once again, then flew out of the room and towards the city down below.
Wei WuXian turned his attention to the wisp with the letter. He frowned, “What do you have there, little one?”
The Death Wisp floated over to him and gently placed the letter on the God of Death’s lap, perplexing him, “Is this…a letter?”
The Death Wisp nodded.
Wei WuXian was stunned, “Where…Who…?”
The Death Wisp made a few gestures, letting Wei WuXian know about the strange messenger boy who’d been standing outside the entrance to the Underworld.
Wei WuXian didn’t know what to think. He’d cut himself off from Olympus for so long, so he was sure they’d forgotten about him by now—or at least wanted to pretend they had. But if that was the case, then why would they send him a letter?
Unsure what to make of the situation, Wei WuXian decided to open it.
His eyes darted all over the page as he read the letter. After processing what he’d read, he burst out laughing, “They… they’re inviting me to an urgent meeting?! Me?! And with BaoShan SanRen?! Hahahahahaha! What, will it be a ‘how to kill a god-killing god’ meeting?! Hahahahaha!”
He sighed, “Honestly if they wanted to lure me into a trap, they could have done way better than this…”
Wei WuXian got up, ready to throw the letter into his fireplace and forget about it. However, before he could, his body stopped.
He decided to read the letter again.
And again.
And again.
He sat down again, rereading the letter over and over again, attempting to organize his thoughts.
This is a trap , he thought to himself, This has to be a trap. Why else would they bother you after more than a millennium?
But what if it really was sent by BaoShan SanRen? Has something terrible happened to Olympus? Was there another war?!
The more he thought about it, the more his curiosity grew. What if it really wasn’t a trap? What if it was? What then?
Suddenly, faces started to cloud Wei WuXian’s thoughts. His family, the Wen siblings, and of course…
“…I wonder how he’s doing,” Wei WuXian pondered, “He probably hasn’t thought about me for hundreds of years.”
Something about that bothered him.
He stood up and went to look at his reflection. Displeased with what he saw, he kicked off his sandals, removed his robes, and started looking through his closet for something else to wear, utterly confusing the Death Wisp.
“You there,” the God of Death said to the Death Wisp, “bring a few souls to my temple—the more well-dress and styled, the better. Oh, and summon nine more of your friends.
The Death Wisp tilted its head, obviously confused.
Wei WuXian smiled at it, “I have a meeting to get to, and there’s no way I’m going looking like this.”
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A bath, a trim, and a new wardrobe later, Wei WuXian was on his way to the surface for the first time in over a millennium. With ten Death Wisps in tow, he slowly ascended the long staircase that separated his realm from Olympus.
The climb gave him a lot of time to reflect on the past.
He thought about how he’d gotten to this point—all the things he’d done and the people he’d lost. He tried to remember their voices, the way they looked, how they carried themselves. He tried to remember the scent of his old temple and the taste of his sister’s cooking.
He tried to remember what it felt like to touch a living being.
He looked down at his palm, feeling as memories from a millennium ago came flooding back to his head, forcing him to visit the past once again.
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♫♡•─────⋅☾⋅─────•♡♪
by
Lindsey Stirling
ft.
Andrew McMahon
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“Wei WuXian!”
“It’s Wei WuXian!”
“Good morning, Wei Ying!”
Wei WuXian was running across town, smiling at anyone he passed, “Morning Aunty! How’s business?”
“Better than usual today,” the old woman responded as she threw a loaf of bread at Wei WuXian.
Wei WuXian looked surprised, “A whole loaf of bread? Aunty, you shouldn’t have.”
“Call it an offering,” the old woman replied with a smile, “And be sure to share it with the other disciples!”
“I will!” Wei WuXian promised as he ran up towards the Temple of the Sun.
His temple.
“Well, look who decided to show up early,” one of the disciples playfully nagged as Wei WuXian passed him a piece of bread, “We’ve already had a few offerings come in.”
“Oh? So early?”
“What do you mean, ‘so early’?” another disciple chimed in, “It’s almost noon!”
The eldest disciple walked up to Wei WuXian and tore off a piece of bread, munching on it as she spoke, “You know, for a Head Priest of the Temple of the Sun, you suck at actually waking up when you’re supposed to.”
Wei WuXian laughed as he gave the last piece of bread to their youngest disciple, “Who says I have to wake up before the sun does? And as long as I’m here to bless the offerings, who cares when I do it? Who knows? Maybe the Sun God enjoys watching me bless his offerings, so he wakes me up when he wants to see it!”
“You’re impossible.”
“Thank you!”
Everyone in the temple laughed.
Wei WuXian made his way to the Sun God’s offering plate, admiring the items they’d received.
“Oi, Wei WuXian,” the eldest disciple called, “hurry up and make yourself look presentable. We can’t have our Head Priest looking like a peasant.”
Wei WuXian pouted, “But getting dressed is hard! It takes forever to put those stuffy robes on and they make me sweat like crazy! Oh, I know! If you helped me get dressed, then maybe I’d-”
Wei WuXian dodged as a large pot was thrown at him.
“Get changed or die!” was her response.
Wei WuXian laughed as he ran into a small room at the back of the temple to change his clothing.
When he emerged a few minutes later, he was wearing long, cream-coloured robes with gold stitched into the fabric, creating a glow around him as the sun’s rays hit the cloth. A golden brooch shaped like the sun held the pieces together. On his feet were sandals decorated in gold, making quite a lavish statement as he walked around the room. On his head was a laurel wreath with golden leaves mixed in, making his face almost too bright to look at. All in all, the appearance made Wei WuXian almost look like a god.
And he hated it.
However, before he could complain, a farmer entered the Temple of the Sun with offerings in his hands. The minute he saw Wei WuXian, he dropped to his knees and bowed, “Head Priest, please! I humbly ask you to bless my harvest this year! Without enough sunlight, nothing will grow! I beg of you, ask your god for his blessing.”
Wei WuXian sighed, knowing that it was time to get to work, then gave a speech he’d given over a hundred times, “Many thanks for your gracious offerings, kind sir. By my power as Head Priest of the Temple of the Sun, I bless you and your harvest.”
The man had tears in his eyes, “Oh, thank you, Head Priest! Thank you so much!”
Wei WuXian shook his head, “It is not me who you should be thanking, but the Sun God for his blessings. Now go and thank Lord RuoHan for his mercy!”
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“Well, I’m off!” Wei WuXian announced as he finished changing out of his priest uniform.
“So soon?” the youngest disciple asked sadly as she watched him leave.
Wei WuXian turned around and smiled, patting the girl on the head as he did, “Sorry MianMian, but I can’t stay today. I’ve got a date!”
MianMian’s eyes widened, “A date?!”
“Knock it off, Wei WuXian, you’re going to break the poor girl’s heart!” one of the disciples joked, causing MianMian to grow red and run off.
“But more importantly,” the eldest disciple grumbled, “Don’t tell me you’re going off to bully the Moon God’s son again. Why can’t you just leave the poor boy be?”
Wei WuXian laughed, “Because he’s so fun to tease!~”
And with that said, he took off towards the Temple of the Moon, smiling the whole way there as he thought about the stone-faced Head Priest.
Even though the feeling wasn’t exactly mutual, Wei WuXian considered Lan WangJi somewhat of a friend. They’d met about a year prior at the discussion conference held once every decade. The Temple of the Moon had been chosen to host it that year, and Wei WuXian, as the newly appointed Head Priest for the Temple of the Sun, had been expected to attend. However, he hadn’t been allowed into the Temple of the Moon because of the alcohol he’d been carrying—something apparently not allowed there. So, rather than having his wine stolen from him, Wei WuXian had decided to sit right in front of the temple until he’d finished every single jar he’d brought—something that had delighted the people watching, but had enraged the Head Priest of the Temple of the Moon: Lan WangJi. Wei WuXian doesn’t quite remember what happened after that, but he does remember really liking Lan WangJi’s enraged face.
I’ve got to see that again , he’d thought to himself before passing out.
Now, Wei WuXian went out of his way to visit Lan WangJi every day before heading home.
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan!” Wei WuXian cried happily when he saw the Head Priest, “Guess who’s here?~”
“Wei Ying,” Lan WangJi replied with a hint of annoyance as Wei WuXian walked up the steps of the temple, “Do not speak with a loud voice within the temple.”
Lan WangJi was dressed in his pure white temple robes, making his look ethereal and royal as he walked. His pale skin almost glowed in the light of the setting sun, and his glassy eyes reflected the light so much that they looked just like stars in the night’s sky. If Wei WuXian had been born a girl, he was sure he’d be swooning.
Instead, Wei WuXian just smiled, “How’s my bestest best friend doing today? Have you learned how to smile yet?”
Lan WangJi ignored him, going about his day as if nothing had changed.
Wei WuXian put on a fake pout, “Come on, Lan Zhan, give me something! A giggle maybe? Or anything other than a frown? I’ll even take a sneer; I will!”
Lan WangJi gave no sign he’d heard him and continued to light the small oil lamps scattered around the temple.
Wei WuXian sighed, knowing he’d get nowhere by just talking today. So, he decided to pull out his aulos to play a song. As soon as the aulos touched his lips, music filled the Temple of the Moon, making a louder sound than what was normally allowed. However, no matter how much Wei WuXian played for him, Lan WangJi did not stop him.
It was almost like he was listening.
Noticing this, Wei WuXian switched songs, now playing the loudest, most absurd notes he could possibly think of. After barely a few seconds of this, Lan WangJi stomped over to him and grabbed the aulos from his hands.
“No loud noises,” was the reason he gave as he confiscated the instrument.
“Oh?~” Wei WuXian mused, “But I was making loud noises for quite a while now, and yet you ignore them. Better yet, you seemed to be listening to me play! How dare you, Lan Zhan, breaking your own temple’s rules for little old me! Your uncle would cough up blood!”
Lan WangJi’s voice was caught in his throat, unsure what he could say to such an accusation.
Wei WuXian gave him a coy smile, “Wow, you really like looking at me, don’t you, Lan Zhan. Tell me, do you find me handsome?”
Lan WangJi took a sharp breath in when he heard that, not noticing how much his face had contorted to reflect his rage. His eyes were wide and alert, his eyebrows scrunched into the middle of his face, and his mouth now had a slight sneer.
Of course, this only caused Wei WuXian to laugh harder than ever before.
“Oh my, Lan Zhan!” the man cried as he rolled around on the ground, “Your face, it’s perfect! This is way better than a smile! Hahahahahahahaha!”
“But I guess this really does mean you like me, huh?”
“Get lost!” Lan WangJi cried as he threw the aulos back at its owner, chasing Wei WuXian out of the temple as he did.
“See you tomorrow, Lan Zhan!” Wei WuXian promised as he cut across the grass field behind the Temple of the Moon to get back home.
After he disappeared into the sunset, Lan WangJi let out a sigh of relief and returned to his duties.
Moments later, he heard a panicked voice from behind him, “Lan Zhan, come quick! I need your help!”
Lan WangJi sighed in annoyance, “Wei Ying, I told you-”
“I know I was messing with you earlier, but I promise I’m not now!” Wei WuXian begged with urgency in his voice, “Please you’ve got to help me!”
Lan WangJi wasn’t used to hearing such a tone come from Wei WuXian, so he decided to humour him and see what the emergency was.
…Only to see the body of a bloody child in his arms.
“Please,” Wei WuXian begged with fear in his eyes, “You’ve got to help me save him.”