Journey into the unknown

Chapter 9: Yellow-Wind Ridge

Sorry I haven't written this in a while. 

Been busy with other fanfics. 

Among other things.

Enjoy the new chapter! 

🐵👑🐲🌟✨💖

The fire crackled low, casting dancing orange shadows against the surrounding trees, but the warmth of the camp couldn't reach the chill settling in Tang Xuanzang's bones.

He jolted upright, a gasp hitching in his throat as his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He was drenched in a cold sweat, his breath coming in ragged plumes in the midnight air. The remnants of the dream clung to him like thick, suffocating cobwebs. In his mind's eye, he was still floating in that starless void—a place where sound went to die and the darkness felt infinite.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he had screamed into the vacuum of his subconscious.

Then, out of the gloom, an old man with eyes as kind as a summer morning and a beard that flowed like a silken river had appeared. He introduced himself as the Crow's Nest Zen Master.

"The winds of change are gathering, Tang Sanzang," the Master had warned, his voice a gentle rumble that vibrated through Tang's very soul. "The Naga Demon Lord Lu She stirs, and his emerald-scaled armies march. Be vigilant, young monk, for danger lurks in the most unexpected of shadows."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know," Tang had muttered in the dream, trying to mask his fear with bravado. He knew of Lu She; the pilgrimage had been shadowed by the Naga Lord's threat since they left Chang'an. But the weight of the Master's gaze had left him trembling long after the vision faded.

A large, warm, pink form stirred beside him. "Tang? What's wrong, love?"

Zhu Bajie—or Pigsy, as Wukong insisted on calling him just to be a nuisance—was awake, peering at Tang with deep-seated concern. Even with his porcine features, his expression was soft, his brown eyes radiating nothing but affection for his "Tangy."

Tang forced a smile, adjusting his glasses. "It's nothing, my Zhu Zhu. Just a bad dream." He reached out, squeezing Pigsy's hand. He hated worrying his friends, but he especially hated the thought of his boyfriend losing sleep over his night terrors.

"Are you sure? You're shaking like a leaf on a windy day," Pigsy persisted, leaning forward to press his snout gently against Tang's forehead to check for a fever.

Tang shook his head, trying to dislodge the Zen Master's warning. Nearby, the rest of the camp began to rouse. Sun Wukong sat up, scratching his auburn fur and yawning wide enough to show his fangs, while Ao Lie—currently in her human form as Long—rubbed her eyes.

"What's all the commotion?" Wukong grumbled, his gold-and-red eyes blinking sleepily. "Is the fire out? Is it breakfast time?"

"Tang had a nightmare," Pigsy explained shortly, not taking his eyes off the monk.

"I told you, I'm fine. Really, I am," Tang insisted, his voice steadier now. He gave a deliberate, dramatic yawn to sell the act. "Now, everyone, get some sleep. We have miles to cover tomorrow." He leaned over, giving Pigsy a quick, tender kiss on the cheek before laying back down, pulling his robes tight.

His friends exchanged skeptical glances over the dying embers. They knew Tang—he was an open book with a very complicated spine. Something was eating at him, but they respected his silence, offering only quiet murmurs of comfort before settling back into a protective circle around him.