A/N: This was originally supposed to be all Xichen with a bit of Nie Mingjue and maybe Lan Wangji at the end. Nah. Nie Mingjue took over and who was I to say no.

Chapter summary: In which Xichen makes an Inquiry and receives a request, Nie Mingjue is not having a good day, and Lan Zhan is just... so tired.

5: Death Knell

When Xichen met Gala at the stables, she had already been properly saddled and her reins were hanging loosely over her neck. It wasn't exactly the same style commonly used in Qinghe, but it was similar. It was surprising to find he hadn't needed to saddle her to begin with like he'd been expecting.

:The stable hands here in Haven know what to do when a Companion arrives: was the only explanation Gala gave him, even if it was a bit smugly amused at his surprise.

Xichen was pleasantly damp from riding Gala from the Collegium to the Death Bell's tower through the warm misty air. The weather in Valdemar was certainly… interesting. It felt a little like the warm lake mists from the river and lakes near Lotus Pier in Yunmeng. Mists in the mountains around Cloud Recesses and Emerald Lake by the town of Caiyi tended to be much cooler.

:You're just upset it wasn't a storm,: Gala mumbled, earning her an amused chuckle.

…ah, yes. They had only known each other a few days yet she already knew him so well. He may not enjoy flying or riding through storms, but he did so enjoy them.

:Be patient, Xichen,: Gala said with a fond sigh tinged with amusement. :The weather this season has been particularly nasty this year. It probably will storm again if the pattern keeps up. Let's just hope it doesn't make the floods worse then they have been.:

Xichen grimaced. He could imagine. Floods were never good in Gusu. The people of Caiyi were excellent swimmers. But a flash flood could drown even an expert swimmer if it caught them unawares. Immovable things like crops and homes, however, always suffered.

Gala trotted up to the stone tower and Xichen dismounted. Shuoyue hummed quietly in his hand, reacting to the ambient power that permeated this place. The air here was heavy, perhaps even holy. There was no hint of the resentful energy Xichen was used to sensing near sites of death or haunted ground. Instead, there was a purity here that Xichen had only ever felt in a few places. It almost felt like the sacred ground of the Cold Pond Cave.

Xichen breathed in deep, smelling the rain in the air, and released the tension in his shoulders. Stepping onto the cool, damp stone, Xichen crossed the space until he stood in the center of the tower and lifted his gaze. The Death Bell hung high in the tower above his head, silent and still. There was no clapper within, nor did it did not sway in the wind. Not a whisper of sound made its way down the open tower to Xichen's ears. It was eerily silent.

"Is this sacred ground?" Xichen asked, keeping his voice respectfully low. Still, it echoed in the silence.

:I suppose I never thought about it before,: Gala replied, lifting her head and studying the ancient building. :It was never blessed by a priest, if that's what you mean.:

He hummed, closing his eyes and reaching out with his Empathy and spiritual power. The stone here held the impressions of many lives that came before tinged with sadness, hope, and reverence. It felt sacred. Thus it would be wise to treat it as such. Lifting his arms, Shuoyue still clutched in his hand, Xichen bowed deeply and respectfully to whoever or whatever was here.

Then he straightened and cast his eyes around the stone floor of the open chamber. Tiny blades of grass poked through some of the flagstones and moss covered some of the shadier parts of the floor and wall. Despite this, the bell tower looked well kept. It was clean of dirt or water except for where Xichen walked. It smelled of fresh air and the distant hint of more rain. Gala was right. It would probably would storm later.

Xichen closed his eyes and drew another deep breath, letting it out slowly as he sat cross-legged on the cool stone. A breeze rustled his hair as he swept his long sleeves out beside him. Reaching for the qiankun bags tied to his belt, Xichen felt for the guqin. When he felt its energy, he pulled it out and swept it across its lap.

The weight of the dark wooden instrument was familiar and comforting. The xiao may be Xichen's preferred instrument, but he was still skilled with the guqin. His skill was second only to his brother Lan Wangji. As the Clan Heir, nothing less would be accepted. Besides, he enjoyed it. Some of his most precious memories were of playing duets with Wangji or soothing away the tension in Nie Mingjue's shoulders.

His fingers plucked the first note of the Song of Inquiry and he fell into muscle memory. Technically, the full song wasn't required to associate with spirits. He could just start the Inquiry without it. But this wasn't home and he wasn't familiar with the spirits here. It was best to be overly polite, especially since it was unlikely the spirits in Valdemar were used to being addressed directly in this way.

As he played, he funneled his spiritual power into the music, weaving it through each note with the artful ease of years of practice. Slowly, gently, he reached out to the any spirits in the area with both his spiritual power and his Empathy and beckoned them closer. Chimes tinkled in his ears a moment before he felt Gala's nose press against his back insistently. Ah, perhaps he should ease back on the beckoning part.

He finished the final chords of the calling and waited for the echoes to fade before beginning the Inquiry.

Is there a spirit here called Herald Kris? he played, the sounds filling the air as he removed his hands from the guqin strings to allow the spirits to reply.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a single string was plucked by an invisible hand, thrumming a single, clear tone. It was quieter than the notes Xichen's living fingers could muster and lacked the feeling behind it, but it was a clear reply nonetheless.

Yes.

"Herald Kris is here," Xichen whispered, his voiced low enough for only Gala to hear.

Surprise radiated from Gala as she pulled her nose away from his back and chimed her away around to get a better look at the guqin in Xichen's lap. :I don't see anything,: she said hesitantly.

Xichen's head twitched in the negative. "You won't," he said softly. "Not unless they wish you to."

One of Gala's ear flicked and she lowered her head. :Is… Can you ask him… was it quick?:

Xichen nodded and plucked out the question, siphoning his own desire to know and worry for the one who was lost into the music using his Empathy.

The same, single tone as before was the reply.

"Yes," Xichen said in relief, a small, sad smile on his lips. "It was quick."

Gala closed her crystalline eyes and he could feel her sadness tempered by relief as she lifted her head. :Good. I was afraid that…: She turned, looking away from the guqin and back out over Companion's Field behind Xichen's back.

Xichen pushed calm and quiet understanding through their shared bond. He felt her sigh and saw her tail swish once in thanks.

Before the silence stretched too long and the spirits could drift away, Xichen plucked out another question. It was one of the two questions he'd been forced to learn by heart at a very young age. Herald Kris, who killed you?

Soldiers under Prince Ancar's command, came the plucked response.

"He was killed by soldiers under the command of one Prince Ancar," Xichen said, sounding out the odd name with his accent. It didn't sound exactly right, like most Valdemaran names when he spoke them aloud. But judging by the immediate reaction he received from Gala, it was clear enough for her to understand.

:Ancar?!: she gasped, shocked. :Why would he…:

Xichen plucked out the question before Gala could fully form it. The spirit plucked through its reply. Xichen waited until the guqin strings stilled before verbalizing the spirit's reply to Gala.

"Ancar sought to silence him," Xichen said. "Herald Kris companion witnessed Ancar assassinate his father and Ancar wished to prevent them from leaving to spread the word."

Gala shook her head, her mane flapping in the air. :Havens! King Alessandar is dead?!:

Xichen sat quietly while his Companion processed the information. He wasn't sure who these people were, but he could tell from Gala's thoughts and feelings that this news was definitely unexpected. He could feel her confusion, horror, and desperate desire to understand swirling through both their bond and his Empathy. As she thought, her emotions began to coalesce and lock onto something. So he waited for her to formulate her next question.

:What about Herald Talia?: Gala asked finally. :She went with Kris to Hardorn to see Alessandar. Havens, she must have been the one to see... Does Kris know where Talia is? Or the queen! Does Kris know where Queen Selenay and Princess Elspeth are?:

Xichen paused as he worked out the proper notes to ask the spirit the questions in the Qin language as best he could. Qin was the language of the dead given sound through the guqin. It didn't usually have exact translations into the languages of the living. But playing in Qin to someone whose native tongue while living was the same as Xichen's was fairly easy. Translating questions spoken in Valdemaran into Xichen's tongue then into Qin, then back to Valdemaran again was tedious. He did his best to be sure the context and as many of the connotations in the questions were not lost along the way.

It seemed to work. Herald Kris's reply took a minute or so to complete.

"Herald Talia is being held prisoner by Ancar," Xichen said aloud when the final note of the spirit's reply began to fade. "She is alive as of now. He does not know where your Queen Selenay or Princess Elspeth are. They were not with him when he died."

:That's a relief,: Gala said, sighing gustily. :Hopefully, that means they haven't reached the border yet. That means we can pass on the warning. This entire situation needs to be re-evaluated.:

A note rang in the silence, startling Xichen. His golden gaze flashed to the guqin in his lap as the spirit plucked out a request of its own will. That was unusual. Most spirits waited to be addressed before communicating. They rarely ever took the initiative.

This spirit's request was simple, selfless, and urgent.

Save her. Please.

Xichen hesitated, raising a hand to pluck a reply before pausing. This wasn't his home. These were not his people. He swore an oath to protect, lead, and serve his clan. He fled Cloud Recesses with every intention of returning. He needed to return. Every day he was away was another day his people suffered.

Please.

The sound of the word rang once more and Xichen pressed his lips together. The faintest flicker of emotion brushed his mind. Reluctantly, he lowered his shields and opened himself with his Empathy and his spiritual powers. He could sense the spirit close enough to touch, but not strong enough… or not present enough to take physical form. As if Herald Kris's spirit was not truly here. This was just an echo, perhaps, or a resonance.

I must return to my people, Xichen played. This is not my home.

Save her. Please.

It was a plea. He couldn't ignore it, nor could he dismiss it. This was not what he had planned. It was not what he intended. None of this was what he'd intended. He closed his eyes and curled his fingers away from the guqin strings. He couldn't ignore this.

With a heavy sigh, Xichen reluctantly rested his fingertips on the strings and plucked, I will try.

It couldn't promise more. He would try. He would do his best.

Thank you.

The strings fell still and silent and Xichen dismissed the instrument sweeping the energy back into the qiankun bag. Wangji, A-Jue, forgive me, he thought. I'll come as soon as I can.

"Herald Talia," Xichen said, resting his hands palms down on his knees. "You said she accompanied Herald Kris to… Hardorn."

Gala turned her head to him. :She did, yes.:

"Is that where your Queen Selenay and Princess Elspeth were going as well?" he asked, lifted his gaze to meet hers.

The spirit in a horse's body still, her ears flicking forward. :Yes. Why?: Her blue eyes glanced at Xichen's lap where the guqin had been. :What did he say?:

Instead of answering, Xichen took Shuoyue in hand and stood in one fluid motion and turned to the Companion. "Would you be ready to chase after them now?" he asked.

Gala pawed the stone with a hoof as she studied him. :What did he say?: she pressed.

Xichen sighed. "'Save her,'" he said. "He asked me to 'save her.'"

:Who? The Queen? Talia?:

He shook his head slowly. "I do not know. Either way, they are all in or near this… Hardon. I do not know the way. You do." He raised his arms, touching his fingers, and bowed low. "Would you be willing to bear me there?"

A soft, white nose slipped under his arms and bumped him, breaking his form and startling him. Gala's nose continued to bump him until he stood straight.

:Do not bow to me, Chosen,: she said. :We are equals.: She trotted closer and nudged his chest with her nose. :And it would be my honor to show you the speed of a Companion.:

He smiled.

Lan Xichen was intimately familiar with flight. He'd learned how to fly on Shuoyue's blade earlier than most cultivators and was confident in the air. He trusted his sword to take him wherever he needed to go as quickly and as safely as she could. Shuoyue had never betrayed that trust and she would forever remain his trusted companion in true flight.

But this… This was a form of flight Xichen never knew existed. If Shuoyue was the mountain wind under a new moon, then Gala was the gale under a full moon. Shuoyue flew through the sky, swift and silent, while Gala flew across the land, sure-footed and driven. Riding her was a thrill.

Xichen was a skilled rider, but he was no expert. The Nie Clan had more horses and were more well known for their horsemanship due to their landscape. Gusu was mountainous and, although horses could be stabled in Cloud Recesses when needed, it wasn't easy terrain for them. Most Gusu Lan cultivators preferred to fly or walk.

Horse riding was never a skill Xichen thought he would want to cultivate, until now. He wanted to learn how to ride better if Gala continued to run like this. A wide smile broke across his face despite the wind tugging at his hair and the rain stinging his face. The situation and need for this hurried escapade might be grim, but this was something he found unexpected joy in.

A niggling thought in the back of his mind told Xichen he probably should have told someone they were leaving. He felt mildly guilty that he hadn't thought of that earlier. There was no one in Valdemar that he knew and trusted enough to tell of his whereabouts and thus, had swept the thought from his mind. Now, he realized, that might not have been the wisest decision.

:Don't worry, Chosen,: Gala said, not even sounding winded despite her sustained speed devouring mile after mile. :I told a fellow Companion, Sayvil, of our departure. She'll inform the appropriate people. I'll be in for a lecture when we get back, though. You too probably. But I think they'll understand once they know the circumstances.:

Lectured by who, he wondered wryly.

Gala snorted. :Best not to think about it until it happens.:

He hid a soft chuckle in the damp fur of the Companion's neck. This is not how I imagined my week would go when I woke up that day, he thought. And yet… Despite everything…

He didn't regret coming here.

He mourned the loss of his clansmen and he fervently wished the Wens had left his home alone. His thoughts constantly dwelt on his brother's safety and the slim hope that at least one of the other Clan Leaders received his butterfly messengers. No Clan should suffer the fate of Cloud Recesses.

But he didn't regret coming here. It was selfish and the guilt gnawed at him. He had responsibilities. He had a Clan. He had a life to return to. And he would return to it. After he dealt with this. The spirit of Herald Kris had asked him to help. He would fulfill that request to the best of his ability. Then he would deal with the guilt of his selfish thoughts once he returned and made certain Wangji and any survivors of the massacre were safe and alive.

The sudden rush of comforting assurance through the bond surprised him. His hands tightened on Gala's reins as they flew together. He would deal with his guilt and selfish thoughts and actions. But he wouldn't be alone.

:Naturally,: Gala said, sounding smug. :I promised I wouldn't leave you. Even if it meant leaving you to wallow in your emotions. If you're going to wallow, I'll be there. I can't guarantee I won't smack some sense into you though.:

Xichen blinked in surprised confusion. Sense?

:It's not selfish, what you did. It was wise.:

…He wished he had her confidence.

:It will come in time, Chosen. I promise. It always does.:

Something seemed to catch her attention then. The Companion's muscles bunching as she abruptly altered her trajectory slightly. He lifted his head higher from her body, straightening just enough to get a better view of what was ahead.

:It's the border,: she said. :We're close.:

I hope they don't mind me being wet, he thought.

Gala's dry laughter eased his heart as the small speck of what he suspected to be a fort came into view. Ancestors bless. Gala was indeed fast. Smug pride rippled through him and he didn't bother to stop the grin from growing on his face.

Nie Mingjue paced the hall incessantly. There had been no new butterfly messengers from Lan Xichen since the last one that damn near broke his heart. There had been no word from Cloud Recesses either. In fact, no one had heard hide nor tail of the Gusu Lan since Xichen's breathless message. Lan Xichen, Lan Wangji, Lan Qiren, and Lan Clan Leader Qingheng-jun had simply dropped off the face of the earth since the surprise attack. The silence was irritating and, dare he say it, frightening.

What Nie Mingjue did know about the Lan at the moment was what little his brother Huaisang's spies in Gusu reported. Smoke had been seen rising from the mountains near Cloud Recesses almost a week ago. There was an increased Wen presence in the major towns like Caiyi; something the Lan Clan would never have tolerated. Yet no one in Lan Clan whites had been seen for days. Even Lan Wangji hadn't been heard from since he left the Unclean Realm before the Wens' attack.

As for the specifics of the attack itself, Nie Mingjue only knew what little he'd heard from Xichen's butterflies. The Wen Clan burned down Cloud Recesses and murdered innocent Lan Clan disciples and Xichen was somewhere out there trying to get to Qinghe. The last butterfly Nie Mingjue received had been hanging on by a thin thread of spiritual energy. The fact it managed to hold its form and maintain its message long enough for it to be successfully delivered was a miracle.

Tensions between the Qishan Wen Clan and the other four Major Clans were high right now. Naturally, the Wen-dogs didn't seem to care. They had even gone so far as to demand the other Clans send their heirs to Nightless City for indoctrination. Apparently, every clan except for the Qishan Wens were failing to properly train their disciples and heirs how to cultivate.

'Proper training' Nie Mingjue's ass. He'd laughed at the Wen Clan's messenger, turned him around, kicked him out of the Unclean Realm, and had him chased back to Qishan. Not a single member of the Qinghe Nie would be attending the indoctrination, least of all Nie Huaisang. Nie Mingjue would slaughter anyone who tried to take his little brother from him.

As it turned out, that had been the right decision. Huaisang had been in regular contact with the Young Master Wei Wuxian from the Yunmeng Jiang via letters and butterfly messages since they attended the Lan lecture in Gusu. Recently, the letters ceased completely and the butterflies had become scarce. Apparently, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, the Yunmeng Jiang Clan Heir, had been forced to attend the Wens' indoctrination.

The news the Yunmeng Jiang had given in to the Wen's demands had been as surprising as it had been disappointing. There had to be more to the story. Nie Mingjue didn't know Clan Leader Jiang Fengmian well, but he was on good terms with Yu Ziyuan. That woman was a proud, strong leader who was fiercely loyal to and refused to suffer any insult to the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. He wondered what could have been so compelling as to convince her to release her heir and first disciple to the Wens.

He almost didn't want to know.

The only good thing to come out of the situation -if it could truly be called 'good'- was that Huaisang and Wei Wuxian stayed in contact as often as they could. That meant Nie Mingjue was kept in the know about the goings-on in Nightless City. None of it was good.

Young Master Wen Chao, the cowardly, imbecilic second son of Clan Leader Wen Ruohan was in charge of the indoctrination. What a sorry excuse of a cultivator like Wen Chao could possibly teach a talented generation of Young Masters was beyond Nie Mingjue's imagination. Though, given the word from the latest butterfly Huaisang received, Wen Chao didn't seek to teach so much as abuse his authority and lord over the captive guests.

The spirit swords of every single visiting cultivator, including the Clan Heirs, had been confiscated by Wen Chao and were essentially being held ransom.

Had Huaisang gone… Baxia was a notoriously vicious saber who was fiercely protective of Nie Mingjue. He almost wanted to see a Wen-dog try to take Baxia from him.

But Huaisang's saber wasn't nearly as vicious. Nie Mingjue shook his head as he strode outside to watch his younger brother practice in the training yard with Nie Zonghui. Since Huaisang regularly avoided practicing with his saber, his bond with the blade was weaker than Nie Mingjue's was with Baxia. The Wens probably would have succeeded in taking Huaisang's saber.

Unacceptable. Not to mention downright offensive. Separating a cultivator from their spirit sword was a high insult. Cultivators were bonded to their swords and vice versa. Cultivation could be accomplished without them, but it wasn't easy. Without the extra layer of protection the spirit sword's sentience gave them, a cultivator was vulnerable. Spellcasting, healing, talismanic magic, and so many other things often demanded the cultivator's full attention. Without their spirit sword to defend them during that time, they could be slain without ever realizing the danger they were in.

Baxia hummed against his back and Nie Mingjue forced himself to stop his pacing and breathe. There was no one to kill here in the Unclean Realm. His Clan stood steadfast and loyal. They would follow him into the bowels of Hell whether he asked them to or not. He couldn't love them more. Thoughts of his clan soothed away his righteous anger until Baxia calmed her vibrations to a steady buzz. She wanted blood, but she was patient. She could wait. For now.

A flicker of gold in the corner of his eye and he immediately turned to it. His heart clenched at the sight of not one, but two messenger butterflies. He stood still on the sidelines of the training field and waited, watching the butterflies dart across the grounds. He grimaced when they avoided him and flew straight for Huaisang. The butterflies landed on Huaisang's hand, one at a time, their wings falling still for the few seconds it took to relay their messages. Then they vanished in a spray of sparks. Nie Mingjue couldn't see Huaisang's face from this angle, but the sudden tension in his little brother's shoulders was unmistakable.

"Was that from Wei Wuxian?" he called, striding out into the sunlight. "What did it say?"

Huaisang didn't speak at first, but his wide, horrified eyes, when he turned to his brother, spoke volumes.

"What did he say, Huaisang?" Nie Mingjue demanded, crossing his arms expectantly.

His brother sheathed his saber, pulled his fan out from where it was tucked in his belt, and clutched it silently. Nie Mingjue held his tongue and waited. There was no need to push. He knew his brother well.

He also knew Wei Wuxian. The First Disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang Clan was a genius, but also a notorious speed-talker. It was a useful skill in arguments, debates, and even butterfly messages. The faster the message could be pushed into the butterfly's time constraint, the more information could be included in the message. Two butterflies back-to-back from Wei Wuxian meant Huaisang probably needed the time to process what he'd heard and parse out what Nie Mingjue needed to hear and what was superfluous. Whether Wei Wuxian realized it or not, he was quickly becoming one of the Nie Clan's most efficient spies.

"He said…" Huaisang swallowed, opening his fan and lifting it to cover his chin and glancing to either side warily. Then, keeping his voice low so only Nie Mingjue could hear, "He said he found Lan Wangji."

No. Ancestors have mercy. If Lan Wangji was dead, it would destroy Lan Xichen.

"He's alive," Huaisang said quickly, obviously reading the growing distress in older brother's eyes. He reached out to grab Nie Mingjue's sleeve and tugged insistently. "Just… Lan Wangji's been captured by the Wen. He's alive, but his leg is broken. I'm not sure how bad. Wei-xiong hasn't been able to talk to him directly yet because the Wens have been keeping them busy. Da-ga!" Huaisang cried, his fan fluttering nervously. "They're using Wei-xiong and the others as live bait on their night hunts! They're forcing them to walk on foot, even Young Master Lan."

Baxia sang. Nie Mingjue seethed. So it wasn't enough to burn Cloud Recesses and decimate the Gusu Lan Clan. The Wen-dogs managed to capture A-Huan's precious little brother and parade him around like a lame fawn waiting for a predator to take the bait. It was nothing less than adding insult to injury. Disgusting.

If someone dared to try that with Huaisang… The pitch of Baxia's song leaped and Nie Mingjue had to clench his hands, digging his nails into his sleeves, and breathing slowly to calm both himself and his saber. No. The Wens' actions went beyond mere insult. This could be seen as a declaration of war against the Gusu Lan.

Except, the Gusu Lan Clan was in no position to do so and the Wens knew it. This was all just a sick game to them.

"Lan Xichen," Nie Mingjue said when he could finally trust himself to speak without yelling or cursing. "Do they have Lan Xichen too?"

Huaisang shook his head and the clamp around Nie Mingjue's heart eased enough for his shoulders to droop in relief.

"That was the rest of the message," Huaisang said, tapping Nie Mingjue's arm with his fan. "The Wen are hunting Lan Xichen because he ha-" He cut himself off abruptly and looked up at the wall.

A Nie disciple was waving one arm to catch their attention while the other acted as a perch for a rather harried looking sparrowhawk. She called out a warning and Nie Mingjue's blood boiled. "Huaisang, get inside. Now," he commanded. "Nie Zonghui, go with him. Nothing gets past you."

Nie Zonghui was loyal and stubborn. It wasn't just his blood relation that had earned him the position of personal bodyguard to the Nie Clan Heir. The man nodded and, without waiting for an argument, took Huaisang by the arm and pulled him into the stone fortress of the Unclean Realm.

"How far are they?" Nie Mingjue called to the lookout that shouted the warning, noting the broken arrow piercing the wing of the sparrowhawk that bore the message.

"Within the hour, Clan Leader," the scout replied, handing the injured bird to another clansman for proper care.

Not much time then. Considering they hadn't gotten any other warnings, Nie Mingjue grimly accepted that the other lookouts were likely dead. But his Clan was efficient and war was second nature to them. Bordering the Qishan Wen territory made martial training imperative. Archers moved to position themselves along the walls of the Unclean Realm while swordsmen, cultivator and otherwise, poured out the gates of the fortress and formed ranks. Nie Mingjue strode through the gates and through the lines to the front and center. His men parted before him, knowing full well his place was with them on the front lines. He would never have it any other way.

It didn't take long for the sound of scraping metal and booted feet to reach Nie Mingjue's ears. He drew Baxia and planted the tip of her blade in the dirt, resting both hands on her pommel and adopting a ready stance. Around him, his men gripped their swords and tightened their bowstrings. The Wens would not leave here as whole they had arrived.

He would make sure of that.

Just as the scout predicted, the Wens appeared on the road in short order. They came in force, armed to the teeth, with Wen Ruohan's eldest son Wen Xu in the lead. Baxia hummed in Nie Mingjue's grip, begging for him to wield her. Nie Mingjue grinned and rolled his shoulders, his hands tightening their grip on his saber in silent promise. He had no doubt she would taste Wen blood before this was over.

No doubt at all.

"Chifeng-zun," Wen Xu called when the Wens finished lining themselves up before the entrance to the Unclean Realm. The Wen-dog bowed mockingly. "I heard you sent my messenger back. Did you need more time to get your heir ready to leave? I assure you, he won't need much. We Wens are well known for our hospitality."

Nie Mingjue spat on the ground, refusing to dignify the Wen-dog with words. For a moment, fury flashed in Wen Xu's face before vanishing just as quickly. Wen Xu chuckled, spreading his hands and shrugging helplessly.

"Please don't make this more difficult on yourself, Clan Leader Nie," he said, false sympathy dripping from his words like venom. "The tardiness of the Qinghe Nie has been noted and the slight will be remembered. The heirs of the Yunmeng Jiang and Lanling Jin Clans have already arrived in Nightless City." He gestured magnanimously. "But I suppose if you need a few more hours for Huaisang to get ready, we-"

"Do not dare address my brother so casually, you filthy mutt," Nie Mingjue hissed.

Wen Xu shook his head and clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Now, now, calm yourself, Chifeng-zun," he said, waving his hands gently. "There's no need to be rude. After all, you sent my messenger away before he could finish delivering his message. Hear me out before you strike, hm?"

Nie Mingjue snorted. "This is a waste of time," he said, just loud enough for Wen Xu to hear. Then he deliberately turned his back to the whelp and started striding back inside his fortress. His clansmen started to close ranks behind him when-

"And here I was thinking you didn't want to suffer the same fate as the Gusu Lan Clan."

Nie Mingjue froze in his tracks, Baxia humming hungrily in his hand. He took two deep breaths to calm himself and turned to Wen Xu, silently daring the man to continue.

The Wen-dog smiled, tilting his head in mock confusion. "You didn't hear?" he asked. "I would have thought a clan as powerful and well connected as the Qinghe Nie would have heard the news by now." He spread his hands and sighed regretfully. "Ah well. It is never pleasant being the bearer of ill news."

Clasping his hands before him, Wen Xu offered Nie Mingjue a sympathetic smile that reeked of smoke and lies. "The Gusu Lan Clan is no more," he declared. "They refused to surrender Lan Xichen to suffer punishment for his offense against my clan. Naturally, we made sure that little rebellion would be their last. The Gusu Lan Clan has been eliminated."

No.

Lan Wangji was still alive. He might be injured and in Wen custody, but he was alive. Surely there were other survivors. Lan Xichen wouldn't let his clan fall to ruin. If Lan Wangji was still alive, then so was Lan Xichen.

Baxia sang as she flew from Nie Mingjue's hand faster than he could ever remember her doing so before. She stopped a breath before her blade pierced Wen Xu's naked throat. A threat for a threat. Nie Mingjue would not be the first to draw blood. Not yet.

Besides, the stiffness that Wen Xu now exhibited was satisfaction enough for the time being.

"Your words are lies and your actions are as dust on the wind," Nie Mingjue declared. "Take your false sympathy to someone who might actually believe your theatrics. The Qishan Wen are not welcome in Qinghe."

Surprisingly, Wen Xu didn't back away from Nie Mingjue's threat. Not even Baxia hovering at his throat kept him off balance for long. The infernal Young Master huffed, his lips parting in a grin that quickly devolved into breathless laughter.

"Theatrics?" Wen Xu drawled, his finger daring to touch the tip of Baxia's blade and push her away. "Why would I lie, Clan Leader Nie? Why lie when the truth is ever so much more devastating?"

Wen Xu flicked Baxia's blade and Nie Mingjue added his will to the saber's, thrusting it past Wen Xu's hand and back to its proper place at his throat. But this time, the Young Master Wen did not flinch. He merely eyed the blade, then clasped his hands and rolled his eyes.

"This is tedious, Chifeng-zun," Wen Xu drawled. "Honestly, you're about as obstinate as Clan Heir Lan Wangji."

"Lan Xichen is the Clan Heir of the Gusu Lan," Nie Mingjue growled.

"It's a tad difficult for Lan Xichen to be Clan Heir when he's dead."

…what?

"My goodness," Wen Xu purred, his eyes gleaming in the sunlight. "You must be very behind the times. Lan Xichen burned to death in Cloud Recesses. What was that building he was in? Oh, it was important, what was it? Ah yes! The Library Pavilion. The roof caved in and he burned alive. We found his corpse in the ash and rubble. I'm afraid Qingheng-jun is not long for this world either."

Nie Mingjue couldn't breathe. Baxia leapt back into his grasp as his mind raced, tangling with his emotions as he tried to fit the pieces of what he'd heard and what he knew together in his head. Wen Xu was lying. Huaisang's message from Wei Wuxian said the Wens were hunting Lan Xichen. You don't hunt a dead man. Lan Xichen was alive. He ahd to be.

He could be seriously injured though. It would explain the state of his last butterfly messenger as well as the lack of any other followup messages. It would also explain why no one had seen Xichen. If he was injured and in hiding, then he may not be able to call for help.

The rage that thundered through Nie Mingjue blazed through Baxia's blade, the blood red glow distinctive and unmistakable in the glare of the sun. He was too furious to put words to his tangled mass of emotions. But Baxia was a saber. She didn't need words. She craved blood and he was all too willing to give it to her.

"Last warning, Wen-dog," he snarled, raising Baxia. "Take your lies and leave or stay and die."

Technically, the Nie Clan struck first. But the Wen Clan charged them so the argument could be turned to self defense if Nie Mingjue wanted to spin it that way. He didn't. Baxia's blade drank Wen blood that day and Nie Mingjue knew this was a turning point. Whatever peace had been the cultivation world knew before this moment was shattered. Who knew what the ramifications of this would be.

Especially when the first Wen corpse got to its feet and staggered forward to continue attacking. Then an injured Nie clansman froze, jolted, and suddenly swung their sword at Nie Mingjue. Caught off guard by the unexpected attack from a friendly blade, Nie Mingjue dodged and staggered backwards, staring at his new assailant.

The attacking Nie's injury was a superficial slice across the chest. It would be painful certainly, but it wasn't fatal. Then Nie Mingjue saw his clansman's face. His eyes were white and cloudy, blind to all things. Burns spread along the blood vessels up the neck and across the clansman's cheeks in an eerie spiderweb pattern. The sight brought Lan Xichen's frantic warning ringing to the forefront of his mind.

They're using wicked sorcery to turn our own injured against us. Even the dead are used as puppets!

Nie Mingjue could kill Wens all day, every day. But facing his own kin in a fight to the death, or fighting the fierce corpse of one of his fallen… Already, he could see the horror on his surviving clansmen's faces and hear the dismay in their cries as their own brothers and sisters turned on them.

Is this what Lan Xichen faced? Is this what entire Lan Clan faced? Ancestors, no wonder they were decimated. As their own fell, the Wen numbers increased. It was despicable.

With every ounce of heartbreaking rage he could muster, Nie Mingjue struck his fallen clansmen, beheading them. The body fell, then twitched and got back up. On and on it went. Wen and Nie bodies fell, then got right back up and continued attacking, this time unified against the Nie Clan. Nie Mingjue could feel the morale sink with each body that fell and got back up.

This had to end.

Nie Mingjue pushed his assailants back with one mighty swing of Baxia, her red sword glare flashing across the battlefield. Because yes, this little skirmish was now very much a battle. In the distance, standing at the back of the Wen army, surrounded by a small retinue of his own personal guard, not raising a finger to help but clearly enjoying the view, was Wen Xu. His smug expression infuriated Nie Mingjue beyond words. Thankfully, Baxia didn't need words.

Perhaps it was foolish. Perhaps it would be his final action. Perhaps it would end this battle.

Baxia flew from Nie Mingjue's gasp, soaring across the battlefield, straight for Wen Xu's heart. The satisfaction of seeing the smug arrogance in Wen Xu's face shift to shocked terror was well worth the risk.

The speed with which Wen Xu dodged Baxia's attack, parrying each swing, was damndably impressive. However, Wen Xu grabbed one of his bodyguards and yanked them between himself and Baxia, using them as a shield so he could ultimately flee on his sword. The sight tore an animalistic roar from Nie Mingjue's chest. Baxia returned to his grasp, ringing and vibrating as she allowed herself to strike down living Wen, Nie puppets, and fierce corpses. Together, Chifeng-zun and his Baxia tore the battlefield apart around them.

And this time, when the bodies fell, they didn't rise again.

When the haze of bloodlust finally faded away, Nie Mingjue was breathing hard and surrounded on all sides by the bodies of Wen-dogs and his own clansmen. The surviving Nie warriors kept their distance, but showed him no fear. The only fear in their eyes was reserved for the fallen.

Today was a dark day. Damn the sun for daring to shine so bright and clear when tears would be shed and Nie blood had been spilt. Nie Mingjue would mourn every Nie life lost and sate their spirits with the blood of the Qishan Wen Clan.

"Burn the bodies. Make sure they receive the proper rites. We don't need more fierce corpses than we've already faced," he commanded, sheathing Baxia and reaching to scoop up the nearest Nie body into his arms. "Burn the Wens separately."

This was the end of the battle and the start of a war Nie Mingjue suspected would not be easily won. The massacre of Cloud Recesses was the only warning the cultivation world would get. However, the battle at the gates to the Unclean Realm showed the Wen Clan that their victory would not come easily either. Not if Nie Mingjue had anything to say about it.

But first, he would see to his clan's security. Then he would send word to Jiang Fengmian. He debated whether or not to inform Jin Guangshan, before reluctantly admitting that leaving the Jin Clan Leader out of the loop would not be a wise choice at the moment. Though he doubted they would be of much use. They rarely ever were.

When the pyres were roaring and the stench of burnt flesh filled the air, Nie Mingjue finally allowed himself to relax, the tension in his shoulders easing. Behind him, the Wen bodies burned to ashes in a fire that would only be attended by the bare minimum of watchers. The fire would be kept under control and the ashes scattered. But that's it.

By contrast, the Nie Clan's pyre was well attended. The flames burned large and high, the heat burning Nie Mingjue's face even from this distance. The swords and weapons of the fallen had been gathered and piled inside the walls of the Unclean Realm where they would be identified, sorted, and returned to the families of the dead for burial.

Thankfully, there were more Wen dead than Nie. But dead was dead. A life lost could not be returned. The lives lost today would have vengeance. Nie Mingjue swore it.

"Brother."

Turning his gaze from the flames, Nie Mingjue looked at his brother standing next to him. Nie Huaisang's doe brown eyes were hard in the glare of the pyre flames. The painting on Huaisang's fan moved in the dance of light and shadow as it waved the smoke away from its owner.

"I heard what Wen Xu said. About Lan Xichen, I mean," Huaisang said, keeping his voice just low enough to be heard over the roar of the flames. "If it means anything, I don't think Xichen-ge is dead."

Nie Mingjue glared at the flames. "I don't either."

"There was more to Wei-xiong's message," Huaisang said, a flick of his fan sending a puff of smoke away from his face.

"I'm listening."

Huaisang hummed, stilling his fan and tilting it so only Nie Mingjue could see his lips move. "Wei-xiong said the Wens are hunting Lan Xichen because he escaped Cloud Recesses with a piece of the Yin Metal."

The-

…what?

Nie Mingjue stood frozen in the light of the pyre flames. That- The Yin Metal… Lan Xichen had a piece of the Yin Metal? Damn and damn! That meant the Qishan Wens had a reason to hunt Lan Xichen and keep Lan Wangji alive. It wasn't just to eradicate the Gusu Lan and demoralize the other Major Clans. Lan Wangji was assurance that Xichen would cooperate and turn over his piece of the accursed Yin Metal if he was caught.

When combined with the knowledge that the Wens already had at least one piece of the Yin Metal, it painted a dark picture. Nie Mingjue had never seen anything like the travesties in this battle before. Fighting fierce corpses in night hunts was one thing. Fighting fierce corpses and the living puppets of fallen kin in battle was entirely different. He'd received Xichen's message, but hadn't actually comprehended it until he faced the very thing he'd been warned against in person. If this was what a single piece of the Yin Metal was capable of, Nie Mingjue had no desire to see the thing whole and in the hands of Wen Ruohan.

If Xichen truly did have a piece, then it was probably for the best no one knew where he was. As long as Xichen was unreachable, he couldn't be captured and tortured into giving up the piece he was protecting.

Still, this was not the news Nie Mingjue had been expecting. He ran a hand down his face, shaking away the blood and gore that came off, and considered his options. Things were going downhill quickly and he wasn't sure where to turn to at the moment.

"Clan Leader?"

He looked up at Nie Zonghui's voice.

"Do you need anything?" his cousin asked quietly from where he stood protectively behind Huaisang.

Nie Mingjue huffed a wry smile. What he needed was to smash a few Wen heads in with Baxia. What he needed was the wash the gore off and start planning a full scale war. What he needed was for Lan Xichen to be here, safe, alive, and unharmed. What he needed was for the Yin Metal to disappear.

He heaved a sigh. "A bath," he said instead. "Huaisang, tell me everything you know about the Yunmeng Jiang's current situation. I'm going to be paying a visit to their Clan Leader."

Lan Wangji collapsed heavily on the rock by the river, relieved to finally sit down and rest. His right leg was a constant source of pain that made it difficult to think straight. He could feel the half-healed femur grate against itself under his skin whenever he put too weight on it. Sometimes it took all of his concentration to just keep moving in the same direction, one step, then the other. He refused to speak or vocalize his pain in any way. He wouldn't give the Wens the satisfaction.

A leaf twirled through the air as it fell, landing softly in the water and floating away. Sunlight flickered across the surface of the water. It would have been beautiful. It was beautiful. He just… He just couldn't appreciate it and focus on staying awake and sane at the same time as-

What was that?

He frowned at the flicker of gold that didn't seem to match the pattern of reflected sunlight. Slowly, the golden flicker coalesced into a tiny butterfly messenger. Its wings were tattered and torn and its flaps were sluggish. It struggled across the water, barely skimming above the rippling surface. A quick glance at Wen Chao showed the young arrogant master busy flirting with his current woman Wang Lingjiao. If he moved slowly, Lan Wangji might not be noticed.

Taking care not to put too much weight on his broken leg, Lan Wangji reached out towards the butterfly. His long white sleeves trailed in the water, disturbing the pattern of sunlight so the butterfly was easier to see. Tiny, glowing legs touched his fingertip and he gasped when he heard his brother's voice. It was thin and wispy as if whispered from a distance, but still recognizably xiongzhang's voice.

:Wangji. Please be safe. I'm… I'm with a friend. I trust her with my life. I'm coming home Wangji. It just… might take me longer than planned. I'm so sorry. I love you, Didi. Stay alive.:

He was alive. Lan Xichen was alive. That was the only thought roiling through his mind as the tattered butterfly finally disintegrated. Xiongzhang was alive and with someone he trusted. That was more than Lan Wangji could ever hope for. He had begun to fear he'd lost everything. His brother, his father, his uncle, his home, his clan…. But he hadn't. Not yet. His brother was alive. Lost, but alive. That single hope looped its way around Lan Wangji's heart and bound it tight, keeping him afloat in the sea of pain and depression.

"Lan Zhan."

Startled, Lan Wangji sat up and turned to Wei Ying. Who else would dare call him in such a familiar way? Sure enough, Wei Ying stood a few feet away, watching Lan Wangji with worry sparkling in his beautiful silver eyes. Wei Ying's hands were poised to reach out to him but seemed to have stopped halfway.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying said softly, "let me carry you."

Lan Wangji blinked.

Wei Ying's silver eyes darkened in determination. "If you keep pushing yourself like this," he said, taking a wary step closer, "you'll only make your injury worse."

He knew that. But if Wen Chao caught Wei Ying attempting to help him, then Wei Ying would be punished again and that was unacceptable. Lan Wangji could tolerate the pain because he knew it was the price he paid to keep Wen Xu from finding his brother in the Library Pavilion. How had Lan Xichen escaped that inferno? He could tolerate the pain because it kept Wen Chao's attention away from Lan Xichen, away from the Lan, and away from Wei Ying. Why was Wei Ying so set on protecting him? Why Wei Ying?

Why was Wei Ying the one person Lan Wangji couldn't read…