Chapter Text
The young Seiryuu folds into herself, a ragged keen tearing from her throat as harsh reality breaks over her. Seiryuu turns away. It’s better that she understands now, than…
...than to learn the hard way.
Seiryuu stalks toward Ouryuu. The feeling of solid ground is still weird; he can’t get over it now that other things aren’t distracting him. He looms above the Ouryuu. The moron’s eyelids are fluttering. The other ghosts no longer attempting to claim his skin as their own, some color has returned to his cheeks.
How disgusting.
Seiryuu turns his scowl on the stone cavern around him. More souls trapped are beginning to wake, dragging themselves from the places their bones lie. Not only Blue Dragons, but more than a few of their jailers. Seiryuu's eyes widen as he recognizes one of them.
"Why are you here?" Seiryuu snarls, lunging to throttle the ghost-
-he stumbles back, rubbing feeling back into numb fingers. Properly -mostly- alive now, he can't interact with the others nearly as much. He turns away from the bandit’s ghost. It’s not the one who killed him, anyway. He shuffles to the end of the room opposite Ouryuu, sits down, and tries not to think about the place he’s in. About the time before his death, or the times after, or-
He will get back out again. He refuses to die here twice . And he had to come down here, at any rate, he justifies to himself. It’s where the other Blue Dragons are -he almost says where they live in his internal rambling- and they really do need someone to guide them. That part isn’t their fault, it’s because they’ve been dead for so long and their lives were so…
He doesn’t need to say it.
Seiryuu sighs. Half-draws the sword, drops it back down. He...wasn’t thinking. He stumbled on what first registered as living people and didn’t realize they were the other Dragons until after he had punched that loud one. He just wanted to cause trouble for them, it wasn’t like he planned to attack them…
The problem of backlash: there’s no going back once you use that power.
Another Seiryuu grumbles something.
“So what? Like you wouldn’t be petty too,” Seiryuu mutters. Now the other Dragons are on their way; he can feel them getting closer. “I could have run,” he tells the ghost. If they agree with him, he can’t tell. He could have...and then the other ghosts wouldn’t get their second chances, when they deserve it just as much as him. “But I would feel guilty about leaving you here,” he tells his elder kin. And it’s not entirely a lie. He would feel guilty...and then he would have gotten over it.
Maybe the truth is that he panicked and reverted to lessons learned in childhood: you keep dangerous things - locked away for everyone’s safety- where you can see them if you can’t kill them. And Ouryuu certainly falls there.
Maybe he got scared and ran home. How...how stupid is that?
“I should have run. It’s not like they would have followed.”
But now they are. Chasing him here’s no use; the others will wear Ouryuu down pretty soon and then some lucky ghost will get to possess him. Seiryuu just hopes they’re coherent enough for speech, whoever it is. He’s really holding out for able to fight, but his luck has never been that good.
He should have run. Instead, he came...here.
Now he must fight for his life in this damned tomb for the second time.
She walks softly, hands tucked under elbows. She is always so cold Teeth chattering Huddled in the corner but there is only cold stone Fingers are stiff Even though she's quiet, their eyes still follow her. She doesn't look at them. She isn't allowed; her power Wear a mask but it doesn't help Nothing but a monster She watches for blades hidden in sleeves and in baskets. For stones clenched in fists. She doesn't leave Ao's sword behind anymore. The walk down the tunnel takes years Walk down to one end and turn around The door is bolted and blocked up Pound and scratch at it but nobody answers nobody will ever answer Blood under our fingernails Hurts
Alone in the cave she was grudgingly allowed, she does not take off her mask Never never Never She isn't allowed, even though there isn't anyone around-
Nobody Forever we are alone forever locked here Forever hidden
...it's all wrong. This is a memory, isn't it...?
She...she left that place months ago…
Stone. Stalactites like teeth on curved ceilings. She walks softly, says nothing always be silent be still hands tucked under her elbows cold so Cold Winter air reaches even here because it's Fingers turn black Can't feel them fall off So tired
...Frostbite. That's its name, right? She's seen it but she hasn't experienced it...has she...?
Even though she's quiet, their eyes still nobody there Alone forever and ever Only corpses it used to be a mausoleum alone in the cave she was grudgingly our prison Our grave
...she left. She... someone asked her to leave and smiled at her and gave her a name-
Seiryuu All of us Seiryuu We do not deserve names
-Shin-ah; it means Stalactites like teeth on curved ceilings person of the moonlight Cannot see the stars Cannot see the moon It means howling dogs all of us Blood sinks into the earth and voices still echo Nobody hears Moonlight...
Her name is Unmarked graves and endless darkness This is our fate This is the fate of She cannot remember it forgotten alone of the moonlight Cannot remember her name is have forgotten it Forgotten everything
Seiryuu.
Jae-ha wipes sweat from his forehead. The rockslide cleared away at last, the entrance is large enough for two or three to walk abreast. Jae-ha eyes the stairs leading down into the tunnel. It could mean nothing. It could be an old mining town, this another quarry. Just because it's underground doesn't mean it's a dungeon.
And just because he can't leap away into the sky doesn't mean he won't go down there.
Shin-ah and Zeno are somewhere in there. He hopes.
Jae-ha catches Kija's arm as the younger Dragon is about to descend the steps. "Wait. We'll need a torch."
Kija flushes. "I knew that!"
If he weren't so exhausted, Jae-ha would make fun of him. He all but collapses on a mossy rock to rest his legs and starts rifling through his pockets for a piece of flint. The lowest branches of the nearest tree are well above his head; it proves to be no issue. A suitable branch in hand, it takes a few times of striking knife against flint before the branch catches. "Ready," Jae-ha says.
They descend the steps, and everything shifts.
The flame sputters. The world tilts. Jae-ha flails and grabs hold of Kija for support, black spots winking in his vision.
"Jae-ha?!"
Jae-ha straightens, cursing. "I'm fine. Just...lightheaded."
Kija nods, hair gleaming in the firelight. He turns away, onward in the tunnel, and doesn't see Jae-ha's grimace. This atmosphere...
Jae-ha breathes shallowly. The air here is stagnant. There's a rancid current to it, as though something has died. It's not just the smell. There's some feel to this place that sets all of Jae-ha's nerves on edge.
"Shin-ah! Zeno!" Kija shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth. No response sounds.
Jae-ha's mouth twitches. Quiet, is what he wants to say. It's what he doesn't say, because then he would have to explain this...this air that he feels, tell Kija about his crappy pseudo-sixth sense. It has nothing to do with the Dragon's blood; it's entirely Jae-ha. A result of childhood trauma, if he had to guess. It’s not even there all the time. It comes and goes with no discernable pattern. The effect…
...he can see ghosts. Well, to an extent, which is almost worse. All that about liking to see the wasp in a room. They flicker in and out of existence, indistinct smears like shadows cast from nothing. Just as bad is the aura they give off. These tunnels are soaked in it.
It reminds Jae-ha far too much of his childhood.
They come to a fork. Kija doesn't even hesitate and he marches down the left path. "Shin-ah! ZENO!"
Jae-ha follows. He feels like he's wading through water, though the tunnels here are dry as bones. Shin-ah and Zeno's presences burn somewhere ahead of them. Jae-ha concentrates. To his right, and tauntingly close. They must be around the next bend.
Jae-ha slows, frowning. When they meet...then what? That...person -it isn't Shin-ah, Jae-ha reminds himself- has already won against them once. Jae-ha's leg and Kija's hand are great for fighting, but they won't save them from Shin-ah's eyes.
Jae-ha just manages to stifle a snort as a thought occurs. Shin-ah's eyes. She's got a literal death glare. He sobers; Kija has paused. He looks back at Jae-ha, head cocked. "Is there a problem?"
Jae-ha keeps his voice low. "How do we fight that thing?"
Kija's brows furrow. He chews on his lip. "We must be swift, and careful. If we look into her eyes-"
Jae-ha sighs. "I know." Zeno won't be able to save them this time. He eyes the torch. Do the Blue Dragon's powers work in the dark? It makes sense that they wouldn't, if eye contact is needed. That still leaves the problem of that pressure. "We have to knock her unconscious," Jae-ha says. He can't see any other way. He’s knocked someone out on purpose all of once, and that time was with a rag soaked in some concoction Captain Gi-gan wouldn't tell him anything about. He's aware that a hard enough strike to the head can knock someone out...and just as easily kill. And that's the kicker, isn't it?
"Unconscious?" Kija repeats. Cogs turn in his head. "...oh. Yes. Erm...how do-"
"I'll handle it."
Neither of them say anything else as they approach the end of the tunnel. Kija flexes his fingers, lifting his hand to strike or shield. Jae-ha draws a trio of knives from a pocket. Pinches them between his knuckles.
They round the corner-
No one is there.
Nothing before them but another tunnel, this one sloping gently downwards. More stalactites low enough to hit your head on, more walls steeped in shadow. The torch's flame wavers. Those two glows remain so nearby and so frighteningly still.
Ouryuu shifts again. A groan makes its way up his throat. His eyes fly open and he yelps, jerking away from the spirit making a valiant attempt to gouge his eyes out. "That scared me!"
Seiryuu stares down at him, brows climbing higher. The useless brat should have been drowning in memories and nightmares, at the least. His soul should have been severed from his body, flung from this world and his body left a shell for the taking!
So he’s tougher than he looks. A lot tougher. Perhaps too late, Seiryuu thinks back to their fight. Seiryuu had won, so he’d thought it didn’t matter what Ouryuu could or couldn’t do. They could fight, and he would win again. Now...now he wonders. Ouryuu -Zeno, he thinks the youngest Blue Dragon called him?- shouldn’t have remained conscious. He definitely shouldn’t have survived his heart being torn out.
But ghosts are different than living people, and ghostly abilities -whatever technique he managed before- are different than his power. Zeno can’t possibly be untouchable by everything. They’ll wear him down eventually.
Zeno peers around at the ghosts shambling around him. "There are a lot of them here," he comments.
Seiryuu frowns, but doesn’t voice his question. He can see them now? That means something’s changed. Progress.
Zeno looks up at Seiryuu, frowning. "Huh? Seiryuu...?" Blue eyes sharpen. "I'm wrong. You're similar to Seiryuu."
"No. I am Seiryuu." Seiryuu tilts his head, a smirk growing despite himself. "You're Ouryuu, right? I can tell, since we're both Dragons."
Zeno doesn't blink. Doesn't avert that hawk's stare. "I see. The one possessing Seiryuu is the soul of a Seiryuu from an older generation."
He's got it in one. How clever. Seiryuu crosses his arms.
"I had that feeling, since you knew how to use the Seiryuu's power." Zeno -disgusting that he gets a name - looks around the cavern. The tombs and the bones and the writhing spirits pouring through the walls. "Then...this place is where the Seiryuu's village used to be?"
"Correct," Seiryuu snips. "And also..." he continues, as he strokes a particularly deformed shade, the only comfort he can offer. It cannot remember being human, and so has lost all semblance of it. It remembers only one thing. One word, bound to so much hatred. "...the sleeping place of Seiryuu's souls of ancient times," Seiryuu finishes. He doesn't have energy for venom for that particular point now.
There's something in Ouryuu's eyes as he watches the ancient spirit. How much does he know about the nature of ghosts?
"Although it was an accident, it was still caused by the current Seiryuu, right? Sorry," Zeno says. "I apologize to all of you on Seiryuu's behalf."
He...doesn’t sound sarcastic. Still, the minority who understands him don’t believe him: there's an undercurrent of a snarl in the rumbling voices. He must be an idiot, Seiryuu decides, his mouth curling. Breaking the seal is nothing to apologize for.
The warmth leaches from Zeno's voice. "Isn't it about time you all returned my child back home?"
Seiryuu's eyes narrow to slits. An apology- on top of that, having the nerve to call her his child- and then, even worse- "How was it an accident?" Seiryuu demands. Only the Blue Dragons will look after their own; this is how it has been for over a thousand years. It's fitting that the one who set them all free was also Seiryuu. Seiryuu sweeps his arms out before Zeno can open his mouth and say something else stupid. "The Dragons that were slumbering here were always forced into submission and looked down upon-!"
The air shudders, and Seiryuu cuts himself short. Just as it is now. Just as it will always be, he wanted to say. Indistinct voices rise as his words dredge up old memories and old hurts. Spirits thrash and cry out. Frost slithers over stalagmites.
Seiryuu will apologize to them later. He steps toward Zeno. "We always wanted to go to the surface and throw away our masks," he hisses. Borrowed fingernails carve into the soft flesh beneath his eyes. "Freely...freely controlling this power." It was theirs. The villagers had no right to try to contain it; only they should have. Seiryuu’s voice breaks with his next words as the heat vanishes from them. "And...the best vessel finally appeared. This is destiny!"
Zeno's eyes darken. The last vestige of a smile slips away. Perhaps now he understands. Seiryuu steps back. The ghosts are beginning to calm again. A few are managing coherent speech.
Seiryuu glances down at Zeno again. "Your body seems to be pretty special. Why don't you become a vessel for my comrades?"
Ropes shift as Zeno shrugs. "Sure."
Seiryuu pushes a ghost toward Zeno. That's all the permission it needs. Zeno sways a little as hands rip into his flesh. His eyes clench shut. His face contorts as a third goes for his throat. "But...it would be better..." His eyes snap open, suddenly focused. "...if you didn't."
Seiryuu steps back. He shouldn't be able to stay awake. He shouldn’t be able to remain. "What-"
Zeno's voice rings clear. "Tens, hundreds of times my heart has been pierced and my body has been torn apart. For hundreds, thousands of years I thought of erasing myself. I don't quite remember, but...I also tore myself apart."
Gaze softening, he smiles. As though he were a parent and them, wayward children. Seiryuu stiffens, fingers twitching.
Zeno dips his chin to his heart. "If it were something I could open, I would do it for you. But..." his voice trembles and then strengthens. "I am a living monster. Even if the world were to disappear, I probably wouldn't disappear."
...he’s lying. He’s exaggerating. Anything to save his own skin. "Are you saying that we cannot carry the burden of the Ouryuu vessel?" Seiryuu scoffs.
Zeno keeps smiling.
Even if possessing him doesn’t work, Seiryuu won’t fall for his tricks. As long as he’s tied up, he’s no threat. Seiryuu crosses the room. Speaks loud enough that Zeno can’t miss a word. "Earlier, there were...four people who entered."
So the ghosts are whispering. There seems to be a bit of confusion as to the exact number, but this is certain: more ghosts follow them, ones no one recognizes. Concentrating, Seiryuu closes his eyes. "Hakuryuu and Ryokuryuu...the other two are humans. They are coming here."
He makes his voice sound confident. Keeps his back turned so the blond imp can’t see the fear in his eyes. I’ll play this game as well as you. He swallows. "If that's the case, it'll be easy to take them."
The path seems to have no end- or perhaps it doubles back on itself. They can't know. Jae-ha's stopped talking, and there's a strain to his voice when he does. Just tired, he'd said. How long were they kicking and throwing rocks from that entrance?
Still...there's more to it, Kija thinks. Of that, he is confident. Is it tied to these tunnels? Certainly, he's heard stories about cursed places...lost in thought, he doesn't notice that Jae-ha's stopped. He bumps into the older Dragon Warrior with an undignified noise.
"We're going nowhere," Jae-ha says. "We have to be missing something...maybe another entrance collapsed."
"And- they're trapped?" Kija's voice is high. He spins toward those golden and blue glows and sees only chiseled stone. Trapped. A buzz drowns out thought; it's Shin-ah's village all over again- they'll run out of air or starve-
Heat floods his right hand as the scales swell. He slams his fist into the wall with a sound like a thunderclap. Dust rains from the ceiling. Kija raises his fist again-
Jae-ha's heel cracks against the wall. No avail.
Kija wipes sweat from his forehead. Steps back. He searches the stone for...anything, really. A crack. A spot where this maze's architects cut further into the stone. There's nothing; it's a gritty-surfaced plane. "Right there," Kija says, pointing to the center. "We'll hit it at the same time. On three."
Jae-ha nods. Flicks hair out of his face. He leans the torch against a broken-tipped stalagmite and turns, tensing. "One."
Zeno's presence has returned to its normal glow and not the sickly yellow it was before, but Kija can't stop worrying until he sees his brother and sister.
"Two."
Shin-ah's presence moves. Not much. The thing controlling her can as good as see them- it might be able to really see them, with Shin-ah's eyes. Something vicious in Kija rears its head, and a thought rises unbidden. Good. Let it see them. Let it be afraid.
"Three!"
Imagine a haze. A roiling, churning thing that's burned, branded into the air. Screams. Every timbre. Wailing, hoarse, wordless. They rip you apart, flay your skin from your bones until there's nothing left of you, no delineation between self and everything, these red-black depths of what must be a literal ocean of blood because nothing else goes on forever like this-
...blood. You know blood but you do not know ocean, the word evokes nothing-
The haze is superimposed over A memory a place Home with stone walls and you know so very well the feel of rough stone on bare feet Never, never home Prison We hate it We hate it as you walked softly, making no noise because-
Fear coils at your feet and morphs as quickly to hatred and maybe the world glows brighter. Hatred is the heartbeat coursing through everything, coursing through you through Seiryuu-
A voice. A voice that is not yours A word alien and not A name
...why is it that you care?
The cry rings out again.
...why is it that you cannot kill the thing inside you that would reach out and snatch that word from the air?
Again, the words pierce you, two voices now, and that thing swells and
A canvas of stars spread out above them, air clear and not a cloud to cover this sea of diamonds and the opal moon nestled there
Blazing hatred chokes the air. Stone. Why can you see only Forced underground, throat screamed raw as stale air settled around you You remember this; you've held onto it for countless centuries and you will never forgive it except that's impossible because people don't live for centuries so
"Shin-ah!"
Person of the moonlight. A crisp breeze lifting the edges of a wolfskin, while silver light poured over the still world. Hands outstretched as if to catch that light.
"SHIN-AH!"
That word breaks the dam, and then the floodwater is crashing, memories battering at her mind, too many to process-
Twilight skies, her chubby hand in one so much larger she knew his name-
Another lonely evening, spent in silence because she had no one to talk to but air; venom on her tongue but no words as she cast her eyes through stone and darkness toward teenagers trudging up twilit mountain paths and it would be a long time before she learned the word jealousy-
Back to the wall, sword in front of her, wolfskin draped over her head and shoulders and Yona standing stalwart as Yun hung back, unable to approach and unwilling to run-
Sunlit days; campfires and salty breezes and sore feet, mountain roads and forest paths and busy marketplaces and so many people who are not afraid-
This is her- and this thought alone is a lifeline. Her vision is swimming, memories and reality and dreams shredded to confetti and tossed together. A legion of voices clamor and every one of them sounds like her own but they're not and she holds onto that one thought with both hands and cannot let it go-
She closes her eyes, inhales. Speaks.
"I am not you."
The words are lost in the howl and the haze. It's like swimming through tar, but Shin-ah peels herself away, and then she's standing in those tunnels again. Her knees give way; her palms strike dusty earth.
Seiryuu, the storm cries.
Shin-ah shivers and flinches. Her eyes remain dry as her mouth. Somehow, she understands now. Seiryuu was the only name given to these souls -these people- in life or death. Nobody has bothered to distinguish between one and the next, and so neither do they. An unending stream of tortured agony, of boiling resentment and anger turned inward and out and ceaseless yearning for freedom and for companionship- this is what they have become.
Shin-ah shudders.
For a while -maybe a moment, maybe a lifetime- she'd forgotten too and had melded with this...she knows no word for it. Hive would suggest organization. A nightmare legion, she thinks through the cobwebs in her head. Gods, she is tired. Her eyelids feel heavy, her limbs heavier.
Voices ring, echoing against stone- voices Shin-ah knows as well as her own. Kija. Jae-ha.
They're here.
Tears well in Shin-ah's eyes. Her shoulders slump and she almost collapses. They came for her; they do care after all. For all her insistence that she's more than an inconvenience to them, the confirmation fills her with relief until she's practically floating. He was wrong. The ghost that has her body was wrong.
...no. Not entirely, not about one thing...
Shin-ah's elation drains, leaving her a hollow shell. She's the fool who broke the seal and woke everyone here. If nothing else, that spirit was right about one thing.
For generations, Seiryuu have been locked away for everyone's safety. They are dangerous... she is dangerous.
Shin-ah forces her eyes to remain open. No rest for the weary, she thinks. It's not a phrase she's ever heard...and that means its familiarity belongs to the ghosts swarming, nipping at her sides. She wades down the tunnel. She'd been in a sort of room with Zeno and the other one before- she must have moved during that...trance, Shin-ah supposes. The word doesn't quite fit.
She shivers; her fingers are icy. She'd been changed. She's no more substance than the ghosts around her. Memories and feelings and thoughts knotted up-
That's why, before, her gloves kept returning although she put them down. She only exists as she imagines herself, with all the habits she doesn't give thought to.
Shin-ah falters. Shakes herself. She'll cling to that, she tells herself. She won't forget herself...not again, not yet. "I'm not you," Shin-ah whispers again. Recollections -rough stone on bare feet, hunger biting at her stomach- torrent around her and she can't tell if they're hers or not. She barely hears her own voice. "I'm-"
Seiryuu, a thousand voices answer, crawling over Shin-ah's brain like something with too many legs. She flinches and grits her teeth and does not break.