As a god, Luhan was one of twelve.

He was the flower of the west, splendid and merciless, one hand leashing war and the other leashing lust. He was courted by the winter, favoured the winds, companion to the shadows and seated to the immediate right of the dragon king. Luhan's festival fell at the second month on their people's calendar, and villages would offer him the finest of deer and finer young men in temples. They would pray to him for favour in wars that took place in a city's walls, or the simpler confines of their homes. Women would pray to him, for strength, and the men would pray for their voices to raise fear in the enemies beyond their walls.

As a god, Luhan had been powerful.

-

Luhan wakes from a dream of swirling frost and playful winds, a dance of shadows at his feet as he leans against the warm hide of a dragon. He hears a river's rush and feels a soothing warmth that makes flowers bloom, and there are bright birds in the sky above, fire and light chasing lightning tails.

Luhan wakes from the dream feeling pleasant, and sours when he remember it was the night before Yifan left Suho crying after him on the palace stairs. Luhan supposes that it is not his right to feel bitter, since he had done the same some few months later.

It had been Sehun who cried, while Xiumin stared after him blankly.

“ this.“ Luhan grumbles as he tries to sink back to sleep. Why had he woken in the first place? There was nothing for him in this new era, nothing but a pathetic excuse for shrine for no one to worship.

“O Luhan, I beg for your protection…”

Luhan snaps into wakefulness. A prayer.

“If you are still he who runs blood through the west, who brings swift ends to the quarrels of a dynasty…”

Luhan lets the words run through him, a weak tremor that is so much better than nothing. These are the right words, the same words from his priests and priestesses thousands of years ago…

“Help me, damnit. I know you're in there.”

But this mocking tone? It is no human bowed before the foot of his tiny shrine.

“Only you,” Luhan sighs as he pulls his existence in and materialises beside the tree sheltering his shrine. “You and that brat Baekhyun, who would ask for help in a such a mocking manner.”

Chanyeol smiles at him, weak but wry, through untamed hair and baggy eyes. Luhan can't judge though- he's sure that between the two of them, he looks worse.

“No need to bite my head off.” Chanyeol laughs. “You don't smite down people who come looking to you for help do you?”

“Depends on my mood.” Luhan says, bearing his teeth. “I might be doing the world a favour. You're breaking heavenly law, coming here to see a fallen god.”

Chanyeol snickers. Luhan knows his habit of assuming he's above the law, but this isn't a matter he finds amusing. Heavenly law was… strict, to say the least.

“How can heaven dictate us when it no longer exists?” Chanyeol sneers, something broken in his eyes.

Luhan peels himself away from the tree warily. “What happened?”

“We fell.” He said. “We all fell.”