The Mad Ҡìղց

Lan Wanji's life.21

Ayana badged back into the house, her breath ragged, and her fists clenched. The walls seemed to vibrate with her fury, though the room was otherwise quiet. Everything inside her was boiling, a tumult of emotions she could barely contain. She had been to the farthest corners of time, seen worlds rise and fall, and yet it was always this — family, love, loss — that broke her the most.

"Ayana," came a voice, steady but tired. It was Lan Qiren, Wanji's father, standing near the window, the moonlight casting a long shadow across the room. His voice held a weight of expectation, frustration, and pain all bundled into one simple call of her name.

"Not now, brother," Ayana responded sharply, her eyes narrowing. She didn't want to do this again. Not now. Not when she was so close to unraveling the knot that tied both past and future together.

"Yeah, that's right. Go on. Save the world and forsake your family." Lan Qiren's voice broke through the silence, louder this time, full of pent-up anguish. "Where were you when Wanji needed you? You did the same thing when his mother was dying. I needed you at that moment, *Wanji* needed you. I didn't care if you zapped everyone with your magic, we just needed you!" He took a step closer to her, his eyes wild, his face flushed with emotion. Tears welled up in his eyes, but his voice did not falter.

Ayana stood frozen for a moment. She had prepared herself for a lot of battles, but not this one. "Brother, I told you," she began softly, her voice a thin thread of calm amidst the storm, "I don't meddle in life and death. I don't have control over it. Carmen knew that and understood." Ayana stepped forward, trying to bridge the distance between them with her words. "I was in the future, saving Wanji. I had to go to the past to save him as well. Without a Wanji in the past, there wouldn't be a Wanji here with us or in the future."

But Lan Qiren was unmoved. He shook his head, not in disbelief, but in sheer exhaustion. "It's getting close to when he'll take his life," he whispered, his voice a strange mixture of anger and grief. "Because of the humiliation. Do you understand what that means, Ayana? I'm tired of being born again and again, only to remember everything. If this time you don't save him..." His eyes darkened, and his voice grew sharp, venomous even. "I will find the jade amulet and *kill* you."

Ayana flinched at the words, but only for a second. She had lived too many lifetimes, seen too many horrors, for death to hold any real fear for her. In fact, there were days she welcomed it. But not yet. Not while Wanji still needed her.

"I'd love nothing more than that, brother. I'm tired of living too," she said, her voice filled with a resigned kind of weariness. "I've seen empires fall and rise. I've seen the same mistakes made over and over again, by the same souls, trapped in the same cycles." She looked him straight in the eyes, her gaze unyielding. "But I promise you, I won't let anything happen to Wanji now. I'm so close. So close, brother. Please, trust me."

There was a long silence between them, heavy with the weight of centuries of shared history, both spoken and unspoken.

"Unlock his magic," Lan Qiren finally said, his voice a quiet plea. "Heal his scars. Make them disappear."

Ayana inhaled sharply. It wasn't a request; it was a command, born out of love and desperation. She knew what it would cost her, what it would mean for both of them.

"Okay, brother. I will," she said softly. Her mind was already spinning with the spells she'd need, the ancient powers she would have to channel. But just as quickly as the promise left her lips, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their private moment, and they both fell silent, their conversation quickly shifting into mundane small talk.

Wanji entered the room with his usual casual grace, his face a mask of composure, though Ayana could sense the storm brewing beneath the surface. He was good at pretending. He always had been.