Ash and Honey [BL]

Within the spaces of the grand palace walls, all was silent, except for the sound of a choking voice.

Long, thin fingers wrapped tightly around a ghastly pale neck, squeezing as if they could rip out every unspoken secret. 

Two men stood locked in a dangerous encounter.

All the while, a vacant gaze of gold attempted to pass on some sort of foreboding judgment. Those eyes were glazed over like sweet honey, yet they offered not a drop of sweetness. 

"Shizun," the Tyrant Emperor whispered, his face contorted. Yet when he opened his mouth to speak his verdict, the scene blanked.

This event was one of thousands, a recurring dream turned into a prophecy. The future persisted and made itself known with a single fact: This scene will eventually become reality. It lingered with threat, and promised ruin.

Fu Ran's fingers grasped at his own throat.

While some dreams came and vanished, this particular dream was an encroaching constant. A horror.

His fingers clasped pristine white sheets, and he wiped his forehead of the lingering sweat. 

Channeling visions was his specialty, and the ones he willed were fine, but those that came in the dead of night were… Unwanted.

"Gold isn't pretty at all," Fu Ran muttered, his voice scraped raw. His face and back were uncomfortably hot, and his thin white robes were drenched in sweat. "Curse that man. He promises to be my demise, but he is too greedy." He huffed. "How dare he bother even my dreams."

Remnants of gold occupied his mind. 

Even while full of rage, those eyes shimmered, and would have looked so lovely under an atmospheric light. During any other time, Fu Ran would have admitted that they were the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. But not when they visited him at night. 

He tossed his sheets to the side with a groan and fell backwards onto the mattress.

Any other day he would have gone back to bed, trying to fight off the lingering threats. But, the second his heartbeat began to slow, a thunderous BANG sent a jolt through his chest. The doorframe rattled loud enough to feel like the whole room had shifted, and even the teacups on his countertop shook.

His shoulders stiffened. "Forget it, and it will go away." One of Fu Ran's favorite mantras rumbled from his lips. "Forget it, and it will go away…"

But 'it' continued to knock, and more furiously at that. And then a man's voice followed, "You can't miss our meeting by sleeping in again." There was a pause, "Fu Shidi, it's only once a year."

Fu Ran grimaced. Zhi Lao's 'kind' voice had returned, it was as if he was trying to coax a cat out from under a table. It was always a trap.

Outside the door came a long, reserved sigh.

"Fu Shidi!" The voice outside turned sharp, cracking like a whip. "Enough of this, I'm coming in!"

Fu Ran's eyes widened, and he nearly shot right up into a full sitting position. "Zhi Shixiong, no! Please don't come in!" he cried. 

The door slammed open with a crack, rebounding off the frame. A large figure cut through the threshold, his presence filling the room before he could even react.

Fu Ran grit his teeth and his fists shook in frustration. Zhi Shixiong, I am tired of you barging in! Every. Single. Day! He wanted so badly to really say those words, but it was so hard to speak more than a single sentence.

Zhi Lao made heavy steps to Fu Ran's bedside and yanked on his arm. "You miss one ceremony, shame. You miss two, and you deserve a lecture!" Zhi Lao's tone stiffened, and he gritted his teeth with some restraint, "How come you plan on missing four?" 

Zhi Lao normally looked so put together: His hair was tied neatly behind his head, and not a single layer of his clothes was out of place. But his expression was something he could never change.

His tired and masculine features were a fright to see in the dead of night, and who knew they continued to be terrible to see in the morning pinks too. Though his face was generally seen as handsome, the way Zhi Lao always wore that scowl on his face, no one would believe he is usually quite kind. 

Light blue robes swayed with the readjustment of his legs and he began to repeatedly tap his foot on the ground like an angry wife. "Get up," Zhi Lao growled. "Or I will drag you to the courtyard."

"I am… awake." Fu Ran nervously chuckled, he winced when the grip on his arm tightened. "Zhi Shixiong, hey!" He knew he was merely being contrary at this point so he wasn't terribly shocked when he was plucked from his comfortable seat on the bed.

"Fu Shidi, you know what I mean. Get out of bed." Zhi Lao sharpened his gaze to clarify that he intended to give no room for debate.

It wasn't good to raise your tone at an 'angry wife,' so he slumped forward to pick up his discarded grey and purple robe. He fought for a moment with tangles of inky black hair, before yanking it together in a low and messy bun. And on the way out the door he picked up a delicately pure, white blade.

It was spring, so the flowers and trees atop the mountain sect were in full bloom. Any other season of the year and Fu Ran's little tea house house pavilion would be the only place on the sect covered in ever blooming pink petals. However, today, flowers covered every inch of the sterile white stone, and the young disciples couldn't sweep them fast enough.

The meeting that Fu Ran was about to be late for, was that sect-wide entrance ceremony for the newest upcoming disciples. He had been hearing about it for a solid two weeks now, yet had no intentions of showing up. 

Every year the beginning of spring marked a wave of new entries into the sect. With new children, it meant new disciples for the Peak Masters of An Xian Yun Peak. Some Masters took on many, and some turned away all. 

Despite being the singular major cultivation sect left, An Xian Yun Peak only housed about two dozen Masters. Many of them were busy, and had been forced to take on many disciples to ease their burden and workload. But Fu Ran had been lazing about for three whole years now, and he hadn't taken a single new disciple. This caused a disparity in the job distributions.

Just his presence alone seemed to create a strange stiffness among the other Peak Masters. They, no doubt, held their own reservations against Fu Ran's ill fitting behavior.

Like every year, I'm not looking to take a single disciple. Fu Ran ignored the passing idle glances, But now I must announce that publicly, I guess.

Fu Ran spared only a single reluctant glance towards Zhi Lao. 

In truth, he was not free of guilt, he was well aware that he had taken advantage of his own martial brother's kindness and reliability. When Fu Ran dismissed all of his disciples years ago, Zhi Lao was the one who took them in.

His self-loathing was put on pause when gossip tugged at his ears.

A woman chuckled. "Did you hear that a unique little disciple is looking for a Shizun this year?"

Fu Ran scoffed. How bold… to gossip so abrasively in public. Even among Peak Master's it seems that ladies will always talk—

Another woman responded, "Is it about the new emperor's son?"

"New!?" Fu Ran shouted, he couldn't hold it back. The words struck like a slap. And just as easily as he had complained about it, he found himself joining in on the gossip, instead. Startled, Fu Ran asked, "Since when was there a new emperor?"

"Zhi Lao!" Fu Ran clung to his martial brother's sleeve. "How shameful is this?! I barely even know the most current news…"

He wanted to go collect dust.

Zhi Lao tugged his arm with a few shakes, but couldn't break free of the depressive vice grip. "For once, you're not that out of the loop. No one even knows his face aside from a select few in the capital."

Fu Ran cocked his head to the side. "Huh? But why—"

A bell chimed. 

That bell signified that the bottom gates of the mountain sect had opened. In the grand scheme, this was all such minimal mental overload, but it already caused his head to ache. Fu Ran could tell that this year too, he didn't want any disciples.

And as if reading his mind, Zhi Lao snided, "You will take at least one disciple this year." It was curt and to the point, without a hint of hesitation. Zhi Lao was both the kindest, and the meanest person on this mountain peak. 

Fu Ran pursed his lips quickly, not daring to utter a denial. What a terrible Shizun he was.