Snow Flower, Fire Storm

X

2300 YEARS AGO, FOREST OF MINGTIAO

There was blood on the forest floor, on Sicheng's clothes, on the young man fighting for breath in his arms. Tears trailed down Sicheng's face in unstoppable streams. He hunched over his injured friend, trying to shield him with his own small body. "Wuxian, please not Wang Yuan. Please don't kill him. Please let him go."

Wuxian watched the duo lazily from where he was lounging against an old tree, his sabre poised at his side.

"Strike me as many times as you want," pleaded Sicheng. "But please, please spare Wang Yuan."

Wuxian didn't look like Sicheng's cry for mercy had any effect on him. He stopped leaning against the tree and took one step towards Sicheng and his wounded friend.

"Wang Yuan did nothing wrong!" sobbed Sicheng, his voice raw from pain. "Why do you have to do this?"

"I adviced you not to get close to mortals, didn't I?" asked Wuxian without any pity in his voice. He took another teasing step forward."I told you I would kill anyone you made friends with."

"Why? Why?"

"It's nothing personal," informed Wuxian. "It's been three hundred years since my sister fell into a stupor. She's as pale as a corpse and her life force is stagnant. However, I noticed that the more you suffer, the faster she recovers, the flames in the hearth rise a little higher. I'm just doing this so she can wake up again."

"I lit the hearth?"

"The Emperor put a spark, which you managed to turn into a small flame in just your first year on the mortal realm. But my sister can't wake up with just that. How could she? The fire in the hearth used to be as high as a mountain. You have to suffer a lot more before you can earn your way back into the heavens."

Wuxian was now standing above them, looking down at them with his sabre bared menacingly. Wang Yuan let out a little, pained cough. Unconsciously Sicheng hugged him tighter.

"Wuxian, I promise I'll never make friends again. Just let him go this once."

"No, Sicheng, I want you to make more friends. So I can kill them all." Wuxian levelled his sabre with Wang Yuan's heart. "Now get out of the way. This sabre is capable of killing you too. I don't want any accidents to happen."

Sicheng threw himself over Wang Yuan, careful about his injuries, but also making sure his body was covering all of his friend's vital points. "Then kill me too. I can't let you do this anymore."

Wuxian hesitated. He hung his sabre back at his waist. "If I kill you the Jade Emperor will dissipate my soul. I don't want that." He looked around until he found Sicheng's swords lying discarded among some leaves. He picked them up. "Now these swords are safe." He walked back to Sicheng.

"No. Please don't kill him. I beg you! I BEG YOU!"

Wuxian brought down the swords brutally. They sank through Sicheng's torso and pierced Wang Yuan's chest, pinning both of them to the forest floor. Sicheng saw the life fading out of his friend's eyes, he felt Wang Yuan's heart go silent beneath his own.

Grief crashed over him like a spiteful wave, wrecking him.

Sicheng let himself cry aloud, let the anguish wash over him over and over again.

He wished he weren't immortal.

He wished he could die with his friend.

Wuxian went his way, leaving Sicheng to his agony. Sicheng didn't pull out the swords, didn't detach his body from Wang Yuan's until the body beneath him had turned cold.

It took him years to get over Wang Yuan's death. He tried not to make friends again, but Wuxian kept setting him up, creating situations where he had to get close to mortals.

And when he got close enough, Wuxian killed them.