i just don't know

[bloodyashes]

Normally, actual adults aren't called to deal with things on Alternia. The world of your birth is a land of childhood and mayhem.

Unfortunately, you're still stuck on it.

And while you're certainly glad that your blood color exempts you from the last majority of absolute nonsense that is hemospectrum politics on one level, on another level you absolutely hate it. Because your brother is dealing with it alone, and it's never been his strength, and all trolls are as vicious of grudge holders as Jin Guangyao and...

You worry a lot. And everyone else in the brooding caverns treats it as a situation where you should have known better, before giving your diamond to a highblood who was destined for the stars.

You are well aware that you can't explain it without sounding like a lunatic. Not that most trolls aren't a little around the bend, and Da-ge is lucky enough that he can skirt around calling you his brother because that's a term that only exists in the fucking clown church for whatever reason -

These are the thoughts that are looping around your head again when you get the call.

Jadebloods are the only adults on Alternia, and most of the time - 99% of the time, even! - you're restricted to the brooding caverns. But once in a great while, the fleet is too far away to respond to an immediate threat on the planet itself, and so you all have to put your big troll pants on and deal with it.

It's not like it's hard, to put down a bunch of seditious children when you're full grown. The only real hazards are highblood strength and cerulean mind-control, and none of the upper classes are much inclined to rebellion.

The current heiress, unfortunately, has managed to find and inspire allies in every single caste, which promises to be... just, a headache.

You miss having people to do things for you. Still, with jadeblooded sun tolerance, you can at least strike while they're asleep.

That's what everyone assumes, anyway.

Comments

[bloodyashes]

What actually happens is something like this:

You hear a flute.

It's not a delusion, because other members of the group assigned to deal with this glance at each other at the sound. But they don't freeze the way you freeze. They don't know that sound.

You, for your part, aren't fool enough to want to go anywhere near where Chenqing's melodies are tracing lazily in the air. Not when Alternia already has problems with the undead in the sun. You've fought them, every jadeblood has, but wild packs of shambling undead against the possibility of a genuine fierce corpse combat force, commanded by Wei Wuxian's flute?

Yeah, you really don't want to take your chances.

But you can't say shit, because you're the youngest here and generally the weakest - in the absence of different blood colors, brooding cavern society runs on seniority - so you just shuffle along at the back of the increasingly nervous group. The flute music has stopped, for now.

You try to convince yourself you imagined it. You imagine, also, that this conviction will last long enough for other members of your group to start getting picked off like it's a horror movie. You can only imagine that as a troll, Wei Wuxian will lean towards his worst self between Sunshot and his death, especially with all the resentful energy in the very air of the planet.

You wonder how fast you'll be able to surrender.

[bloodyashes]

The heiress has her group hidden in a cave system on the seacoast. It's rocky, uneven ground, which would normally be better for fighting shambling hordes of undead on because they're more likely to trip, but again, Wei Wuxian. If he has Wen Ning with him in this life, you're boned. Even if he doesn't, you still might be boned.

You hear the matron in charge bark your hatch name, and duck your head to obediently follow after them a little closer. You don't want to be picked off, horror-movie-style, before you have a chance to surrender.

You come around a cliffside, and there he is, standing on a high point of the cliff just like your memories. Too much like your memories, and it's a jarring realization that makes you trip in truth, rather than a staged stumble.

Wei Wuxian is human. He's dressed like he just walked off your memories of Sunshot, robes billowing around him in the sea breeze, Chenqing held loosely in one hand, except that there's also the hilt of a blade visibly poking out over his back. He's smiling like the moment a dream turns into a nightmare.

He puts the flute to his lips, fingers dancing across a melody. A question, framed in musical cultivation, the first few bars tranquil against the sound of the waves, the next handful aggressive, violent, and - though no one else is likely to sense it - framed in resentful energy. Then he plays the two parts in reverse.

Peace or war? War or peace? Why are you here? The meaning is as shockingly clear as if he'd spoken it.

The matron pulls out a laser musket and settles it on her shoulder, lining up the sight with his shoulder. Wei Wuxian sighs in a very put-upon manner, and blows a single loud note into his dizi.

War it is, then.

The matron fires one shot before everything explodes into chaos. It hits a barrier around Wei Wuxian and glances off, but you don't have time to worry about that. You have to get separate from them, catch his attention and make him recognize you somehow, before -

[bloodyashes]

What erupts from the ground isn't corpses.

Oh, there are certainly ghosts, drawn to Wei Wuxian as surely as ever. You're not even a maroon and you swear you can sense them. But it isn't the undead that you have to be worried about.

It's the ground itself, which erupts into a set of vicious stone spikes across the center of your group, opening up a shallow chasm from which other combatants spring.

You see a flash of white and blue, and you throw yourself away from the other jadebloods, and of course it isn't Wei Wuxian without Lan Wangji, and you're going to either die here or die later a traitor, so you yell at the top of your lungs, "Hanguang-jun! I don't want to be here!"

In the time it takes you to scream that - instinctively, in a tongue you haven't spoken in this lifetime except to your brother - you realize two things:

The majority of other combatants are also human, though they're mostly people you haven't seen before, with the exception of the shock of violet electricity that must be Jiang Cheng.

And Lan Wangji is the exception, because he's a fucking Andalite, because why the hell not.

You don't get more than a sense of being mentally acknowledged before the ground opens up under your feet and you're sucked into the stone underneath, but, well, at least you're not in the battle anymore. You do, however, because today is a day for the return of old habits, faint.

[bloodyashes]

You wake up in a bed, which is the first time in this life you've been in a bed, which just adds overall to the violently surreal nature of things.

You also wake up to an irrepressibly happy, "Good morning, Nie-zongzhu!" that prompts you to groan and flop your head back into the pillow before you even open your eyes.

"That's Da-ge," you say automatically, and then put all thoughts of your brother out of your mind because he's going to think you're dead, you've just joined up with a bunch of seditious rebels because they pulled a bunch of your friends from a past life out of nowhere and also the alternative was dying.

"Oh," Wei Wuxian says, a little surprised sound, and then -

<Wei Ying. Turn down the lights.>

The thought-speech tingles against the inside of your skull. The clash between two different kinds of psychic abilities is probably half the source of the conflict between trolls and Andalites, but you don't think it's so awful.

"Oh, right," Wei Wuxian's voice continues, and the brightness outside of your eyelids noticeably retreats. "Sorry, Nie-gongzi."

You allow this to convince you into opening your eyes. It's still a bit bright by troll standards, but probably as dim as is comfortable for humans or Andalites. You'll manage.

You sit up. Wei Wuxian occupies a chair at one side of your bed, leaning forward with relief and a touch of mischief in his eyes. He's wearing the robes from earlier still, but now that you're up close, you can see that his hair is secured by a jeweled ornament in addition to its usual ribbon. The lage gem on it is so deep a red it looks almost black. The sword that was over his shoulder is leaning against a nearby wall, and it's huge even by Nie standards, but you can marvel at it later. It's less important than the other occupants of the room.

Lan Wangji, of course, hovers over Wei Wuxian's shoulder. His main eyes are fixed on the back of Wei Wuxian's head, one of his stalk eyes is on you, and the last is on Jiang Cheng, leaning against the wall at the foot of your bed. So, business as usual from him, really. You're pretty sure Andalites don't normally wear clothes, but he's wearing a Lan ribbon and a white robe over his more humanoid shoulders as though absolutely nothing has changed about anything. It's a fragment of normalcy in a situation you couldn't have imagined while drunk.

Jiang Cheng also looks shockingly normal in purple brocade, though it's not full robes but instead a belted half-length jacket over jeans and combat boots that wouldn't look out of place in troll fashion except that they're purple-blue instead of black. (The jeans, that is, not the combat boots.) The sleeves don't reach all the way down his folded arms, either, giving you a clear view of Zidian wrapped around his bracer. He looks away immediately when he notices you looking, reverting to a two-on-one staring contest with Lan Wangji's stalk eye.

What's really surprising is the two women on the other side of your bed. Jiang Yanli is older than you've ever seen her - as old as she would have been at Wei Wuxian's resurrection, had she lived - and has an astrolabe of some sort floating at her side. Just... floating there. She's dressed mostly traditionally, though it's darker than you remember her dressing, and her lotus hair ornaments are now intermixed with stars.

And a seat down from her is a woman in red and white who you only half-recognize but, given the other occupants of the room, must be Wen Qing. She's dressed the least traditionally of all of them, but it's enough like a docterrorist's getup (just, less heavy on the terrorist part) that you can recognize it as medical wear. She has a mix of medical tools spread out against the side of your leg, and is looking more at them than at you.

In short: More of the cultivation world than you ever thought you would see again is clustered around your bedside. Your bitter little heart is brimming with nostalgia for days gone by. You half-wish Lan Xichen was here, even if your brother can't be, but...

Well. Perhaps you don't deserve him at your bedside.

You clear your throat. "Wen-guniang, am I allowed to sit up?"

She starts slightly at being addressed, looks up at you, and nods. "If you feel well enough, I won't tell you not to."

You push yourself up, scooting so you can lean back against the pillows. (There are so many pillows, actually, this is kind of indecent by troll standards.)

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of so many old friends?" you say. You pull a fan from your sylladex, just a normal one (because you do not want to risk pulling a weapon while sitting this close to Jiang Yanli, given everything). You keep it folded in your lap, though. You just need it to hold onto.

You also, even though you're speaking the old familiar language of the cultivation world, pitch friends in a way that in Alternian indicates that you actually mean close acquaintances of ambiguous friend-foe status. It's hard to manage when it's two contradictory tonal languages, but you think you pull it off. (Of course, the only one in the room who might understand a lick of Alternian is Lan Wangji, so it's probably lost on this audience.)

Jiang Cheng seems to catch the implication anyway, from the way he snorts. Wei Wuxian chirps, "Well, we were hardly going to leave you on the battlefield! Though it was a surprise to see you here of all places! Jiang Cheng owes Asch-zongzhu another bottle for doubting him."

"He doesn't even drink," Jiang Cheng protests. "He'll just give it to you or Vicious."

Wei Wuxian, immediately, turns on his brother with a grin. "Then you should make sure to give it to him when I'm there, so that Vicious doesn't get it!"

Wen Qing sighs. Jiang Yanli looks like she's struggling not to laugh. Lan Wangji reacts about as much as a tree, one stalk eye flickering over the scene before settling on you again.

You have no idea who they're talking about. So you very promptly turn towards Jiang Yanli and her astrolabe and say, "It sounds like I've missed a great deal! Jiang-guniang, that's an exquisite spiritual tool you have now. Will you tell me about it?"

She flushes lightly, and lifts her hand closer to you so that you can better examine the floating astrolabe. It really is beautiful, with clear and careful craftsmanship and spiritual energy flowing freely through it in a way that is at odds with the weak cultivator you remember. Gold and steel rings, with careful, almost invisible engravings, spin freely within an outer ring of enameled lotuses. It was also very clearly designed to float like this, rather than sit on a table or stand.

[bloodyashes]

You get the story in steady bits and pieces after that, as chaotic as only a story that Wei Wuxian is trying to help tell can be. It's peppered with interruptions, including another Andalite (who leans in through the doorway almost like a human, which is somehow more surreal than Lan Wangji in clothes), Wen Ning trading places with his sister, the largest human man you've ever seen who Wei Wuxian enthusiastically drags over to introduce as "First Disciple Malos" to much fond eye-rolling, and, finally, a skinny girl with light green hair who Wei Wuxian addresses as "Rielle-shimei" who insists on having Wen Ning fix her hair. (This last is, in fact, appallingly cute, not that you acknowledge it out loud.)

"Isn't this supposed to be my sickroom?" you ask Jiang Yanli, who just sighs.

"This is typical," she says. "The way Asch-zongzhu runs his people is very loose."

"It's the total opposite of the Gusu Lan," Wei Wuxian says. "He runs himself even more ragged than Jiang Cheng."

<It is surprising that he hasn't come yet to greet you himself,> Lan Wangji says, almost startling you. He's been silent even by his own standards for most of the storytelling. <He prides himself on finding time to greet everyone personally.>

"He was busy with Nines," Rielle says, the knowing contribution of children. She sits very still as Wen Ning finishes the short braid at the back of her head. Her ears, now exposed, are too big to be human and have distinct points. "They're working on the Alternian network."

"Typical," Jiang Cheng says. "9S never met a hacking challenge he could back down from."

"They're good for each other," Wei Wuxian seems to agree, fondly.

"They're terrors," Jiang Cheng counters.

"Thank you, Rielle-guniang," Jiang Yanli says. "If you see Asch-zongzhu, would you tell him that Nie-gongzi is awake?"

Rielle dips in a cute little curtsey and scampers off. Wei Wuxian sighs fondly.

"She'll be fifteen next year, can you believe it?" he says. "We're going to have to make her a greatsword."

Your eyes drift to the one leaning up behind him. "A girl like that, with a sword like that?" you say, feigning astonishment.

"She's an elezen, she'll be taller than all of us in a couple years!" Wei Wuxian protests. "Except Lan Zhan, of course."

"Maybe you should wait until she's her adult height, then," Jiang Cheng says. "If you give her an elezen-sized sword now, it will be taller than she is instead of just looking like it."

Wei Wuxian huffs. "If she gets that tall, we'll make her another one," he says. Then he turns to you, and says, "If you're feeling well enough, why don't I show you around? We can harass Asch-zongzhu and 9S ourselves if we find them."

The lazy part of you wants to stay in bed forever. But the cunning planner is all too curious about this Asch - the boy who runs this entire ridiculous thing as somewhere between a sect leader and a revolutionary, who was perfectly happy to transfer about half of his base of operations to another planet simply because a friend of a vague acquaintance needed help.

Who might be willing to get your brother back for you. Who definitely did teach Wei Wuxian a swordsmanship style that keeps resentful energy at bay.

"I would like that," you say, closing your fan and flicking it back into your sylladex to get out of bed. "Thank you."