A Little Too Late

Chapter One

A/N: Hey guys! Recently, one of my best friends introduced me to The Untamed/Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation/Mo Dao Zu Shi (it has so many names XD), and I am obsessed. So, of course, that means fanfictions! Along with this, a couple of one-shots in the works, and I'm sure they won't be the only ones. So there's no confusion, this story is a combination of both the novel and the TV show, along with some creative liberties of my own. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

Pain.

Zixuan, dead at his feet.

Yanli, her eyes holding his as they lost their light.

Anger.

The bodies of the remaining Wens - his found family - hanging for all to see.

Yuan, nowhere to be found, but surely taken away from this world as cruelly as the others.

Sorrow of the deepest kind.

The faces of each person who had died before his eyes, their screams echoing in his mind no matter how he tried to block them out.

Each emotion washed over Wei Wuxian in waves that seemed to take his breath away as the wind tore at his clothes and the sky grew farther away. This was it; this was the end. Finally, as it should be.

~

But the end never came. Why did the end not come?

Wei Wuxian slowly opened his eyes, the pain tearing through his chest halting as confusion overtook it. Where was he? Certainly not Nightless City, which was where he should have been.

Hard flooring dug into his cheek where he lay on the ground, a dull pain ebbing through his body. It took a moment before he could convince himself to move, his actions slow and shaky as he pushed himself up. His surroundings made it quite clear that some type of dark magic had occurred here recently, but he didn't understand. He shouldn't be here, wherever here was. He shouldn't even be alive. Not after all that he had done: all of the pain he had caused, the deaths that had come to pass all because of him.

It had only been moments, hadn't it? Moments between now and the space in time when he had shaken himself free of Lan Zhan's hand, closing his eyes tightly against the pain he found in the eyes of his best friend and his brother who had stood beside him, both pleading for him not to leave, though for completely different reasons.

But no. It took only a few hours in which he was physically and verbally abused on various occasions for Wei Wuxian to realize that it had not been moments, but weeks since that night, and that he had somehow been revived into the body of a young man by the name of Mo Xuanyu. This discovery, paired with the markings on the floor and the cuts discovered on his body, made it easy to discern what had happened. Somehow, this Mo Xuanyu had sacrificed his very soul in exchange for that of the Yiling Patriarch. But the fool had forgotten to instruct what task he wished Wei Wuxian to complete as his part of the deal.

He didn't care, though; no, the only thing he cared about was getting as far away from those who could be harmed by his presence. He didn't even care that the cuts would remain on his body so long as his task remained incomplete. Yes, they hurt. They ached with every movement, every strain that was placed upon them. But it was only right that he have some form of punishment for all that he had done, wasn't it?

Though the door was barred from the outside, for reasons he couldn't believe had been Mo Xuanyu's doing, it didn't take much for him to make his way outside. He'd faced so many barriers in his short existence; this new version of hell was merely a puddle to step over. So he slipped away into the night, leading a donkey he had found in a stable on the Mo family's grounds; surely, whatever Mo Xuanyu wanted of him wouldn't be affected by his borrowing the animal as a traveling companion. The makeup he'd found on his face had been washed away as soon as he'd found a good water source, trusting in the anonymity of an unfamiliar face to protect him from those who would wish him dead.