The Mad Ҡìղց

The Decision

Zhan's brow furrowed in thought. "A spell, perhaps," he muttered. "We'll have to look into that later." He turned to Meng, his expression softening. "But whatever happens if the spell starts taking too much of your energy... promise me you'll stop. I don't want to lose you."

Meng opened her mouth to protest, but Zhan continued, his voice filled with emotion. "Please. If something happens to me, take care of Wang's grandmother. Feng should be king, and Nie Ming Jue will help guide him. But promise me you'll take care of yourself too."

Meng's throat tightened with emotion, but she nodded. "I promise," she whispered.

At that moment, Chang returned, carrying the old journal in her hands. The leather cover was worn, the pages yellowed with age, but it thrummed with an ancient power that everyone in the room could feel.

"This is what we need," Chang said, placing the journal on the table. "The ritual is complex and dangerous. If we make even one mistake..."

"We won't," Zhan cut in, his voice resolute. "We can't afford to."

Duan Dan carefully examined the pages, her eyes scanning the ancient text. "We'll need phoenix feathers, unicorn blood, and moonstone. The ritual has to be performed under the light of the Blood Moon."

"The Blood Moon rises in three days," Zhan said, glancing out the window at the darkening sky. "That's not much time."

Meng stood, her expression determined. "Then we don't have a moment to waste," she said. "I'll go and gather the phoenix feathers. Duan Dan, you can find the unicorn. Zhan, you'll need to secure the moonstone."

"Don't worry about that, I have someone in mind I trust. Zhan said.

Wang watched them quietly, his heart swelling with a strange mixture of fear and hope. He had never known such loyalty, such love. Even though he still felt the looming dread of the curse, he couldn't deny the warmth that flickered in his chest. They believed in him, even when he couldn't believe in himself.

Zhan's footsteps echoed softly through the dimly lit corridors of the palace, the weight of his responsibility settling over him like an invisible shroud. In his arms, Wang lay still, his breathing shallow and uneven, each breath seeming more labored than the last. His pale face, once vibrant with life and joy, now looked drained, his skin translucent under the flickering torchlight.

It had been weeks since Wang had fallen ill, his body rejecting every healing spell, every potion, and herb they had tried. Now, they were left with only one choice: the ritual. It was dangerous, ancient, and seldom performed, but it was the only hope they had. Zhan's heart clenched at the thought of losing his mate. No, that was not an option. Wang was worth everything, every risk, every sacrifice. Zhan would do whatever it took to save him, even if it meant breaking sacred laws.

Behind him, Chang, Duan Dan, and Meng followed silently, their presence both a comfort and a reminder of the gravity of the situation. They had been a stalwart supporter of the royal family for decades, and though they were now elderly, their wisdom was unparalleled. They had seen things, and done things, that others would scarcely believe. But even Chang looked troubled by the path they were about to take.

"I need the two of you to be sure about the spell—no mistakes." Zhan said, his voice steady, though his heart was anything but.

"Of course, Your Majesty. We will be meticulous. Chang and Meng nodded.

"There is one thing." Chang sighed.

Zhan narrowed his eyes, sensing the unease in Chang's voice. "What is it?"

After the ritual is completed, you'll need more than just a break. You will need dragon blood sage, white sage, and Tulin sage for the cleansing ritual. It's the only way to ensure the unicorn blood won't hunt you."

Unicorn blood was ancient and volatile magic, something not to be tampered with lightly. Its power could give life but could also take it away just as swiftly. If not cleansed, it had a habit of latching onto those it deemed unworthy, chasing them down until their very sanity crumbled.

"And if we don't?" Duan Dan's voice cracked through the silence, heavy with dread. The fear was palpable in her words, in the way her hands trembled slightly as they gripped the journal detailing the rituals.

"The spell will drive you crazy," Chang said grimly, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. "Until you take your own life."

Silence fell like a stone. The implications of failure had never seemed so real.

Wang, lying in Zhan's arms, still looked doubtful. His skin was pale, almost translucent, the vitality that once made him glow now drained by the curse that lingered in his veins. His breath came in shallow bursts, barely more than a whisper. "I'm not worth it," he murmured, his voice fragile, his eyes half-lidded.

Zhan's heart clenched painfully. It had been days since Wang had been able to stand on his own, and every passing hour made Zhan more desperate. But there was no hesitation in his voice when he responded. "You are," he said firmly. "You always have been."

Back in the chamber, Zhan laid Wang gently onto their bed. The curtains were drawn, bathing the room in a soft, soothing glow. This was their sanctuary, the one place where they could be themselves, away from the demands of the court, away from the prying eyes of the world. Here, Zhan had shared his deepest fears and dreams with Wang, and here, he would fight to keep him alive.

Wang stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open for a brief moment. "Zhan," he whispered, his voice weak. "I don't want you to do this. I'm not worth it," he said, again.

"You are," Zhan said firmly, taking Wang's hand in his. "You always have been. Don't ever doubt that."

Wang closed his eyes again, too weak to argue. Zhan stayed by his side, his heart heavy with the burden of his decision.

Three days. "You'll tend to him here," Zhan said, his voice soft but commanding. "Until the day of the ritual." Make sure he's comfortable. No pain. Can you do that? The ritual had to be completed by the third night when the moon was at its peak and the veil between realms was at its thinnest. If they missed that window, there would be no second chance.

"I'll make sure he's comfortable," Meng said quietly from the doorway. "He won't feel any pain. Not until the ritual is complete."

Zhan nodded, grateful for their presence.

"This stays between us," Zhan said sternly, his gaze shifting to the others in the room. His command was clear—no one outside these walls could know of the danger Wang was in.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Duan Dan said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Chang lingered for a moment longer, her old eyes clouded with worry. Zhan could see the sadness etched into her features—this was her grandson, after all. The weight of her own emotions was written plainly across her face. She had to believe in the ritual. They all did. But deep down, she feared that nothing would work.

There was one more person Zhan needed to speak to before the preparations could begin—Fengmian.

"I'll be right back," Zhan said, his voice resigned. "But until then, my mate stays here, under your care."

"Yes, Your Majesty," they all replied, bowing low.

Zhan stood and moved to leave, but Chang caught his arm, her grip surprisingly strong for someone her age. "Zhan," she said softly, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I pray this works. I pray with all my heart."

He nodded, unable to find the words to express his gratitude. He knew Chang loved Wang more than anything in this world, and the thought of losing him weighed heavily on her as well.