Work Text:
Flames of the Past
Wen Ruohan, the tyrannical leader of the Wen Clan, had always prided himself on his mastery over death and life. With the Yin Iron in his possession, he believed he could control anything and anyone. But when an unexpected surge of energy coursed through the ancient artifact, Wen Ruohan found himself thrown back in time, to a moment when his reign had not yet begun.
He opened his eyes to find himself in the familiar halls of the Nightless City, but something was different. The air felt lighter, less oppressive. The corridors were not filled with the presence of his subordinates but with something entirely unexpected—laughter.
Following the sound, Wen Ruohan walked towards the source, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. But when he turned the corner, he froze.
There, in the middle of the training grounds, was a young man with a mischievous grin on his face. He was surrounded by a group of disciples, all laughing at some joke he had just made. The man turned slightly, and Wen Ruohan felt his heart skip a beat.
It was Wei Wuxian.
But not the Wei Wuxian he knew. This was a younger version, full of life and energy, without the burden of hatred and revenge that had defined him in later years.
Wen Ruohan stepped back, his mind racing. How could this be? How was it possible that he, Wen Ruohan, had traveled back in time? And why, of all people, was Wei Wuxian here, in the Wen Clan's training grounds?
But before he could retreat further, Wei Wuxian noticed him. "You there!" Wei Wuxian called out, a playful glint in his eyes. "Why are you skulking around like that? Come join us!"
Wen Ruohan's first instinct was to draw his sword, to put this insolent boy in his place. But something held him back. Perhaps it was the sheer absurdity of the situation, or perhaps it was the curiosity that had always driven him. Against his better judgment, Wen Ruohan found himself stepping forward.
Wei Wuxian grinned wider as Wen Ruohan approached. "That's more like it! You look a bit lost, though. New to the Wen Clan?"
Wen Ruohan's lips tightened into a thin line. He had never been spoken to in such a manner, but there was something disarming about Wei Wuxian's smile. "I am not lost," Wen Ruohan said, his voice cold but controlled. "Merely... observing."
Wei Wuxian tilted his head, studying Wen Ruohan with those sharp, intelligent eyes. "Observing, huh? Well, there's plenty to see around here. Come on, I'll show you around!"
Before Wen Ruohan could protest, Wei Wuxian had already grabbed his arm and was dragging him through the training grounds. Wen Ruohan could feel the stares of the other disciples on him, but for once, he didn't mind. There was something captivating about Wei Wuxian's energy, his unrestrained joy.
As the day went on, Wen Ruohan found himself engaging in a way he hadn't in years. Wei Wuxian showed him the Nightless City as it had been before the war, before the darkness that had consumed them all. And with every laugh, every smile, Wen Ruohan felt a piece of his icy facade begin to melt.
But as the sun began to set, reality came crashing back. Wen Ruohan knew he could not stay in this time. The Yin Iron's power was unpredictable, and there was no telling when it would pull him back to his own time. And even if it didn't, Wen Ruohan had a duty to his clan, to his ambitions. He couldn't let himself be distracted by a momentary lapse in judgment.
When they finally returned to the training grounds, Wen Ruohan turned to Wei Wuxian. "I must go," he said, his voice more solemn than it had been all day.
Wei Wuxian's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly replaced it with a smirk. "Going so soon? I thought we were just getting to know each other."
Wen Ruohan hesitated, something he rarely did. "I... I have responsibilities," he said, the words feeling hollow even as he spoke them.
Wei Wuxian shrugged, his carefree attitude back in full force. "Well, if you ever find yourself lost again, you know where to find me."
Wen Ruohan nodded, his mind already racing with the implications of what had just happened. As he turned to leave, he felt a strange pull in his chest, as if something was trying to drag him back to his own time.
And then, with a flash of light, Wen Ruohan found himself standing in his own chambers, the Yin Iron clutched in his hand. The training grounds, Wei Wuxian, the laughter—all of it was gone.
But the memory remained, etched into Wen Ruohan's mind. A memory of a time when he had been more than just the tyrant, the monster. A time when he had been human.