Ash and Honey [BL]

Fu Ran jolted awake with a sharp gasp, desperately struggling to catch his breath. 

The air seemed to flow into his lungs at a frustratingly slow pace, prolonging any discomfort. He hated these abrupt awakenings, as they always left him shaken from the rush of adrenaline that accompanied the feeling of mental death. His body responded the same way every single time, reacting to the adrenaline surge with a flurry of tremors and ragged breaths.

He curled in on his own body, and held on tightly to his blade, ignoring the pains when the weapon pressed into his chest. 

A man stood above him, and he couldn't think. But before he could draw his blade a hand held Shi Wei Ji steady. "Shidi, it's fine." The rumble of low comforts rang against his ear. Despite the drumming of his heartbeat, the simple recognition of that voice put Fu Ran at ease.

"Zhi Shixiong…" Fu Ran breathed a heavy sigh.

Zhi Lao's eyes showed him sympathy and a hand rested on his back. "Sit. You're shaking." He guided Fu Ran to sit back against the tree. "Was it bad?"

Was it bad? There was a pause, and then Fu Ran stiffened. He jolted like a zap of electrical currents ran through him. "We need to return home," he stumbled to stand, despite Zhi Lao's nagging insistence. "I knew the demon realm would bring nothing but trouble!"

"What did you see?"

"Hah… hah… What did I see?" He repeated, nearly hysterical. "What do I always see? Nothing other than doom!" 

Fu Ran didn't yet clarify, but instead his head searched the entire premises. Where is it? he mentally groaned, using quick strides to move from corner to corner. Where is that damn array?

Zhi Lao chased every stomp, his arms held out like he was going to grab his frantic younger martial brother, but crashed into Fu Ran's back when he came to an abrupt halt. "What the hell are you thinking, Fu Ran?"

"Shh–!" Fu Ran quieted him.

The array. Bright white lines, that looked like they were drawn in chalk, formed a perfectly circular shape against the mahogany stone earth. Sigils of many meanings dictated the formula of the spell and decorated the outside rim.

It was perfectly drawn from the years of experience under Shesui Lang's belt. Except now it was ruined. Right now his worst fear looked him in the eyes: A slash, most likely from a blade, tore right through the drawn art, separating all the necessary sigils.

"Zhi. Shi. Xiong," Fu Ran hissed enunciating each syllable. 

Zhi Lao was seeing this for the first time as well, and his eyes widened. "Damaged? How did that occur?"

"I don't know Zhi Shixiong…. Can you, the one who had his eyes open, tell me how it happened?"

"..." Zhi Lao did not answer.

He wanted to collapse to the ground. For once, Shi Wei Ji showed him an incredibly immediate threat, and further investigations revealed a harrowing truth. If the teleportation array was ruined just after their arrival, then there was something much darker happening right now.

This was a set up.

The camp wasn't too far away, so with his destinations set, Fu Ran ran.

'Camp' might have been too generous of a description. In reality it was just a shoddily thrown together red tent over some branches of dead trees. Beneath it sat three days worth of supplies, and some medical equipment.

Feng Meiying, one of the beauties of An Xian Yun Peak, was already idly sitting under the tent. Her bright red hanfu was eye-catching and it was detailed with pretty flowers of gold. A long thin pipe playfully swayed between her fingers. Although it was lit, she was rarely seen actually smoking it. 

With a tone of playful mockery, Feng Meiying said, "You are all masters, and yet you come so ruefully unprepared." Feng Meiying sighed as she looked at the other cultivators present. "This event will last THREE DAYS, do you all understand?" 

When she crossed her legs, bright white skin poked through a slit in her crimson skirt. The only other person to sit by her side was a man in solid white. He hid an amused smile from below his sleeve and cut a judgemental glance towards Feng Meiying.

Tensions seemed a little higher than usual, but there were reasons why the Peak Master's of An Xian Yun Peak preferred working alone. There were few who could see eye to eye.

"Feng Shigu, you may be the one with the most cultivation experience here, but do try to not be so obvious with your condescending tone." Shesui Lang's lips twitched while trying to maintain his chipper speaking tone. 

"We are of the highest grade cultivators in the nation, do we even need comforts such as tents?" mocked the Peak Master in white.

Feng Meiying seemed easily offended at this and barked back in a strict tone. "So you don't need food, Master He? When had you cultivated yourself to such a degree? It is news to me."

Master He grew quiet.

"Shesui Shixiong! You need to make another array," Fu Ran pleaded, mid run.

Shesui Lang stiffened at hearing the desperate cry of his name, but quickly regained his unbothered expression. "And what could possibly be wrong with the last one, princess?"

"Really, you absolutely have to! There is no time to waste! Please—" Fu Ran begged, "Can my explanations happen once you begin?"

The gaudy cultivator's face had gone pale at his martial brother's desperation. "Fu Shidi, what's happened?"

"Zhi Lao," Feng Meiying interrupted. Like she had seen the clear panic, she turned away from Fu Ran and asked Zhi Lao instead, "What happened?" 

But despite her intentions, the interrogation was passed to Zhi Lao, and then back to Fu Ran as he crossed his arms. "I don't know Fu Shidi, what happened?" This small action was invisible to those standing in front of them, but Zhi Lao's eyebrow twitched furiously. Fu Ran knew that was his signal for: talk. 

Fu Ran reluctantly pulled out his silver sword and held it up to the masters:

"Shi Wei Ji has spoken." This alone caught the eyes of the scattered cultivators.

"There will be a disaster here should we not leave." He drew his arms into himself and swallowed heavily. "When—" he paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"When I had awakened… from using my Calamity Recall, I still found myself in the demon realm. I awoke too late to see the entirety of the build up, but I saw enough of the aftermath. Multiple Fall Corpses of high level will attack. In my visions, this very camp is in ruins, disciples injured, and few Peak Masters are to be seen." 

Sudden chatter erupted on this mountaintop. Fu Ran knew them all to varying degrees, but they all had such clear opinions on his story.

"Why are we even listening to the Master of Calamity?" asked a messy male master. "Has his words ever held any weight?"

"Hah, master of what? Fu Ran is barely a master of anything at all! He is no more than Yi Yang's pretty little project!" A new male voice yelled next.

Fu Ran jolted and his stomach twisted. His breath caught on a sharp inhale that he barely managed to stifle. His arms, already drawn close, tightened further, as if warding off a blow that wasn't there. 

This arguing was already beyond what he could handle.

But Feng Meiying shut that previous line of conversation up rather quickly with a voice beyond threatening. "Jie Baihu, that is more than enough!"

"Please listen!" Fu Ran begged. "I believe… we have been set up."

"Set up? But the one who set up this mission was the Peak Elder, Yi Yang." A particularly loud female master complained from beneath her tree. "Are these treasonous thoughts? Or perhaps you implicate… one of us?"

"Fu Ran, are you blaming one of us?" A master with pink robes bore a tear-filled glance behind her large glasses.

When the line of conversation came back to him, Fu Ran raised his hands in panic. He didn't even know who was talking, with the voices all overlapping. Fu Ran wailed, "No! Nonsense! When did I say anything like that?" Fu Ran quickly defended his words. "Our way home has been destroyed!"

Clamoring questions hurled at him like a fury, and all semblance of normal conversation was thrown right off the cliff.

Fu Ran felt like he was getting buried—his breath caught in his throat, and he covered his face with his sleeves.

Stop it… Whether quiet whispers, or silent thoughts, Fu Ran didn't know, but he pleaded. Please listen! He couldn't shield his face and cover his ears at the same time. Shi Wei Ji doesn't lie.

It's the truth.

You could all die—!

"Enough!" Feng Meiying's voice rumbled the chaos, and stilled the air. "This has become senseless." She took slow drag of her pipe. Her lips parted and gave way to a thin trail or smoke.