Yixing giggled as the butterfly he had been chasing landed lightly on his nose, tickling him. The insects’ delicate wings fluttered and it took off, flying towards the patch of sweet pea flowers growing nearby.

Yixing watched it fly away with an amazed look on his face. “Did you see that, mama? Did you see that butterfly?!” He raced to where his mother is sitting under the shade of the massive maple tree, holding out a handful of flowers for her which he had picked a few moments before.

His mother smiled and taking the flowers handed to her, she pressed a handkerchief to his forehead, helping him wipe the sweat that was beading at his forehead and beginning to trickling down his face.

“I did. It is very beautiful, isn’t it darling?” Yixing settled down next to his mother and leaned in close.

“Why are their wings full of patterns, mama?” He asked curiously, allowing his mother to draw him into her lap. “Butterflies carry wishes and dreams to the writer of the universe, Xing-ah. They carry our hopes and desires to the writer and the writer hears them, so they can be granted.”

His mother smiled down at the earnest little face in her lap and his sweat drenched hair gently. “Really, mama?” Yixing sat up, eyes wide with disbelief. “Yes, really. But he only grants the wishes of certain people. The ones who are courageous and are kind to others. Yixing, my darling, do you want your wishes to be granted?”

Yixing nodded his head and then rested it on his mother’s shoulder. “Then remember, always, have courage and be kind.” She whispered it like a secret into his ear and he nodded solemnly.

“I will, mama.”

The clattering of wheels on flagstones break the sedate mood and Yixing lept to his feet to run, his mother close behind him, laughter and happiness b to show clearly on both their faces.

“Papa is back!” The lord’s feet have barely touched the stones when he was met with an armful of the ten year old boy. He picked up his beloved son and swung him around, a smile spreading over his face. "How have you been?"

Yixing clung to his father, squeezing tightly, and kissed his cheek.

"We missed you." Yixing's mother smiled demurely at her husband, despite wanting to throw herself into his arms like Yixing had done.

"Get off me now, son, and give your mother a chance to look at me."

Yixing stiffened when the spell took hold and pushed himself away from his father in an almost violent fashion. "Cheng! What have you done?!"

Lord Cheng stared at his son in horror, "I didn't mean it that way son. I meant it as a joke!" Yixing whimpered as his mother engulfed him in a hug.

"It's okay. No harm done but we must be careful."

Yixing recovered quickly and goes to cling onto his father again. "You've brought me something haven't you, papa? You always do."

The harsh lines of worry on Lord Cheng's face soften when he looked into his son's earnest face. "I have. But shall we go inside first? I'm starving." Yixing giggled when his father swept him into one of his strong arms, wrapping the other around his wife to lead them inside.

---------

Lord Cheng dropped his son onto the chair at the of the dining table before settling next to him, his wife pressed close to his side. The servants appear to place bowls of steaming pumpkin soup in front of the family. Yixing dug into the soup as fast as he can, the soup coming to run down to his chin as it spilled out of his mouth, eager for his father’s present.

“Slow down, darling.” Lady Liling glanced at her son, a fond smile curving her beautiful features upwards. Yixing’s body stiffened again and his hand slowed immediately.

He glanced up at his mother pitifully, eyes almost begging for her to relieve him from the command of the curse.

“Oh honey. I mean, eat as fast as you please.”

Yixing’s body relaxed and he ate at a much slower pace than he had before, his excitement somewhat dampened. His parents exchanged worried looks. The curse posed a very large problem; any direct command and Yixing was compelled to obey it. None of the servants, apart from Minseok, were aware of the curse put on the boy but Yixing could not possibly avoid detection for the rest of his life.

“Will papa show me now?” Yixing asked when they have all finished their lunch. Lord Cheng smiled down at his son and bid a servant to bring him the trunk that had been taken up to his chambers. He knelt by Yixing’s chair and carefully lifted the lid from the case, out from which he brought a small package wrapped in blue silk to give to his son. Yixing held the package in his hands, admiring the soft sheen of the luxurious material. He turned the silk over and gasped audibly in delight.

A faux fur covered journal fell into his lap.

He carefully turned the cream covered pages in delight; the paper, marked with the five distinctive striped lines of sheet music, was thick and sturdy in his fingers.

He hugged the book to his chest in glee.

“Thank you, papa! It’s beautiful!” Lord Cheng smiled and pulled another box from the trunk. “I will miss your birthday, so this is your birthday present in advance.” He uncovered the box to reveal a pair of new dance shoes. Yixing cheered in happiness.

“Try them… Do you want to try them on?” Lord Cheng hurriedly amended his statement. His wife beamed at her son’s enthusiasm. Yixing slipped the shoes on. They fitted perfectly and the feel of the leather was soft against his feet. He danced around the dining hall, singing in utter joy. His contentment exploding from his chest.

“I will have to leave in a week’s time. So, happy early birthday, my little prince.” Yixing’s heart sank instantly.

“But that is so soon!” He protested at the same time as his mother, their tones matching.

His father smiled sadly down at him.

“I have to sweetheart. I will bring more presents the next time? I promise.”

Yixing took the shoes from his small feet and pressed them back into his father’s hands.

“If I give these back to you, will you not go? Will you stay home?”

Lord Cheng laid a hand on his son’s hair and kisses his forehead, “I must. Keep them, and keep dancing. You can show me your dance moves the next time I come home, alright?”

Yixing sniffled and buried his head in his father’s shirt.

“I don’t want presents. I want you to stay home.”

“This is the last time. I promise. The next time I come back, I’ll be staying for good.” Lord Cheng glanced at his wife as he said this, trying to reassure her as well.

“Really?” Yixing looked up at his father with sparkling eyes. “That’s wonderful!” Lady Liling rose from her seat to embrace her husband.

“So can we have a compromise? You work hard on your studies and I will try to be back as soon as I can?” Lord Cheng patted his son on his head tenderly.

“Yes. I promise Papa. I will!” Yixing leaped into his father’s arms, almost hugging the life right out of him.

---------

4 years later

“You must drink Mother. You will get better. Remember, Father promised to be home soon and you will be there to greet him.” Yixing laid a cool hand on his mother’s cheek, raising the chalice to her dry lips once more. Lady Liling obediently swallowed the medicine from the vessel but her colour wass pale and her body trembled violently. Her strength waning to nothing.

“Yixing. Send a telegram to your father and tell him to come quickly. Tell him that your mother is gravely ill.” Minseok stood in the doorway of Lady Liling’s chambers, a tray of iced linens in one hand and a bowl of chrysanthemum blossoms in the other.

Yixing stiffened at the command and he tries to fight it. He did not want to leave her side for a mere second. Nausea swept over him as he struggled against the compulsion to obey the command. Pain started to flash through him and his hand shook, nearly spilling the medicine in his hand.

“Yixing. Stop fighting me.” Minseok set his bowl and tray on the bedside table and takes the chalice from Yixing’s hand. “You will have to do it eventually.”

Yixing let out a cry of frustration when he allowed his body walk away, away from his mother and towards his father's study for pen and paper. He hated how he always allows the curse to govern his life, hated that he cannot fight the need. He began to resist the curse when he had turned thirteen, tired of the constant commands that Minseok gave him. God knows the number of times he had complained to his mother about how Minseok used his ‘gift’ against him. He scribbled a hurried note and handed it over to a servant he passed in the hallway to send off.

His body did not relax until he had handed the telegram over, thetenseness of his muscles soothing to roll comfortably. He cursed and swore, hurrying back to his mother’s chambers. Minseok was bent over the bed, holding the bowl of chrysanthemums to Lady Liling’s lips. Yixing sat himself at the side of his mother’s bed and took her hand in his. Her hand was cold, unlike the rest of her feverish body. Yixing pressed it to his cheek, wanting to warm it up from his face.

“Xing-ah.” Yixing turned when he heard his mother speak. Her face was pale and every word that came from her seemed unbearably laboured.

“Have some more water, Mother.” He lifted the chalice to her lips, just as he had done before, as Minseok splayed an iced towel on her forehead.

“Listen to me Yixing.” Lady Liling tightened her grip on her son’s hand.

“You have to be careful. There are evil people out there who would use your curse against you. But you must fight. Fight with every fibre of your being. Remember what I have told you when you were ten and chasing butterflies.”

“Have courage. Be kind.” Yixing echoed his mother’s words and she sighed in something akin to relief.

“You will go far in life, my son. Keep your heart kind and your soul pure and the gods will bless you. I love you. Tell your father that I love him, and that I’m sorry.” She exhaled and sank further against the pillows, speaking clearly having taken nearly all her strength.

“Do you have to you go?” Yixing hated how he sounded like a helpless child as he clutched his mother’s hands to his chest.

“I believe so.” His mother closed her eyes as her breathing became shallower.

There was a loud crash from downstairs and they could hear Lord Cheng yelling for his wife as he tore through the house, but at that moment Yixing realised that his mother was about to leave him, there was nothing but their little bubble. Just him and her.

A tear trickled down his face as he bowed his head. “I love you, Mother.”

Lord Cheng burst through the door at that moment, panting and sweating with onnly moments to spare.

“My love.” He knelt at his wife’s bedside, their only son watching the scene unfold from where he was. “Forgive me for being late. I came as soon as I heard.”

Lady Liling smiled as he kissed her, her last breath heaving through her chest before all went silent. A tender split second of time that would be her last.

Yixing bit his lip, turning his head away, desperately trying to hold back tears. His father pulled him close and they stayed like that, mourning the woman they had lost with no chance of revival. The magic in Yixing’s veins useless when he wished for some power, any power, other than obedience.