ou called for me, general?” Yixing asked as he entered into the tent of the commander.

Baekhyun sat hunched over the low lying table, concentrated on a map painted on deerskin. He did not raise his head but acknowledged the musician with his voice.

“Yes, I did, have a seat, Yixing.”

Baekhyun traced his finger across the coarse skin, following a red line of paint. That was the path he planned to take. It was a simple path, simpler than he was used to actually. His plan could be summed up in a single phrase: attack the wall. It was perhaps more direct than he would have liked it to be but no matter. Baekhyun was confident Rosecreek would fall without much of struggle, especially since Chunyu’s forces would never stand a chance against his. They were well in all aspects but they lacked one thing that all the soldiers of Shanxue possessed.

Brutality.

From the very beginning Baekhyun knew that this was a battle that he would emerge victorious in. Even if he fought without strategy, even if he did not have the element of surprise, it was enough that his troops were breed and trained to become inhumane machines of murder. They would not hesitate.

“Is it light outside already, Yixing?”

“It is.”

It was time then, time for him to face his fear.

“Is the sky bright today?”

“Brighter than usual, as though the heavens themselves are smiling down at the day.”

That was well. With the sun bright he would be unable to focus clearly on the faces of soldiers. Baekhyun could allow himself to become blinded by the light so that he would no longer have to deal with the pain of seeing.

“Play me a song, Yixing.” Baekhyun wanted to hear the beautiful sounds of the sycamore guzheng again. He wanted to pretend that it was someone else strumming the strings.

“If you answer a question first.”

Baekhyun sighed, half tempted to murder the man right then and there as punishment for his insolence. But he did not; Yixing was the only musician he had brought along, once Yixing was dead no other would be able to play the instrument Baekhyun wanted to hear. And he was tired. Baekhyun was so tired of struggling.

“Ask.”

“What happened at Rosecreek last night?”

“Be mindful of your place, Yixing, you don’t have a right to ask,” Baekhyun’s tone once again became icy.

“You saw something didn’t you?”

He did.

Yixing continued to push on, “I heard you killed one of our own – it’s been spreading through camp like wildfire.”

“Are you not afraid that I will kill you as well?” Baekhyun finally lifted his eyes from the skin map and laid them on Yixing’s face. The man was so idiotically annoying. Such a nuisance.

“That’s besides the point. The point is, you came back to camp with pain written all over your face. Something must have happened.”

Baekhyun drew the dagger that was lodged within the wood of the table up and threw it across the room. It landed right in front of Yixing, barely grazing his robes. Baekhyun stood and walked closer to Yixing, once he was in front of the man, he crouched down and glared deeply into the auburn eyes of the musician.

“Do not think for a single instant that just because I appreciate the music you play that I will not kill you. I can easily replace musicians. Trust me, Yixing, if you continue on with your stupid questions, I will cut off one of your fingers for each additional one. By the time you have lost all of your fingers, you will no longer be of any value to me. At that time, I will throw you to the dogs.”

He then rose and returned to the table he had been sitting in front of. “Play.”

Yixing brought his hands to the strings of the beautiful guzheng and strummed. Automatically low tones filled the empty space of the tent and drifted out through the drawn opening as well.

Baekhyun closed his eyes, allowing the music to surround him and become the only thing of his focus. The blend of chords and singular notes melded together in seamless bonds. The sounds enclosed Baekhyun, leaving him in a state of floatation; glowing.

Through his half alert conscious he caught drift of the words that Yixing whispered as his hands continued to strum the instrument across his lap.

“You are an idiot, general, if you spoke out your sufferings, you wouldn’t hurt so much. If you confided in someone, your pain would lessen. If you weren’t so bloody murderous all the time, perhaps you could be warmed by the love in human nature.”

Baekhyun ignored the mocking and taunting in Yixing’s words though. He was already too lost in memories of his own. Baekhyun’s soul had already escaped through the music to a different time. 

Baekhyun glanced at the guzheng that rested so often in Chanyeol’s lap. The man played in many nights and most days. It struck Baekhyun as silly, after all, Chanyeol was training to become a military general, not a musician – why practice hard at something that would not matter?

“Why do you play?” Baekhyun asked, as Chanyeol withdrew a polisher from his horse saddle before returning to the patch of grass they sat upon to polish his instrument. Chanyeol paused for a moment, thinking, before looked back at Baekhyun.

“Why do you ask?

Baekhyun shrugged. “Just curious.”

Chanyeol’s fingers started to strum the instrument again, seeming to ignore Baekhyun’s question completely. Baekhyun became frustrated, irked by the fact that Chanyeol seemed to see completely through him. It seemed as though Chanyeol was pretending he didn’t exist, pretending that he was as transparent as the air around them.

“What the heck, Chanyeol, don’t ignore me!”

But Chanyeol only shook his head and smiled. He continued strumming the instrument that lay on his lap. Baekhyun despised that instrument. How insolent of it to try to occupy all of Chanyeol’s attention.

“Shush, Baekhyun, just listen.”

Baekhyun tried to, he tried very hard to. He wanted to take part in that magical, serene world that Chanyeol seemed to be able to surround himself with. But he found it difficult. He could not focus on the music. His heart was too busy thinking of other things; of his duty, of his role, of his battles.

“Do you hear it?”

Baekhyun did not.

Chanyeol sighed when he realized Baekhyun had not. He continued to strum and as he did he stared at Baekhyun intently, pondering for a slight second before saying, “It’s alright. Some cannot hear it the first time. Try it again, Baekhyun, close your eyes.”

Baekhyun closed his eyes, succumbing himself to the sounds around him. Closing his eyes made him feel vulnerable. Almost at once, he felt panic rising within him. It wasn’t safe to even cease your gaze in front of someone else. They could attack at any second. Fear swallowed him, suffocating him.

When had he become so pitiful? Baekhyun had never before realized how easily he became scared. He fought it. That dark feeling within his chest, he would conquer it. Baekhyun was brave…that was always what he had taught himself, how else would he survive in enemy territory? But now, Baekhyun wondered, if that bravery was only a mask to hide his fear beneath.

“It’s alright Baekhyun, relax, no one will harm you. I’m right here, protecting you, always protecting you.”

Warmth washed over Baekhyun. Protected. That was a new feeling. It had always been him doing the protecting, never the other way around. It felt good to have someone watching over him…even if that person was ultimately his enemy. It was alright, for this moment he could pretend that he was not a spy but rather just a regular human sitting on the edges of heavens field, listening to the sounds produced by the fingers of a man he loved.

His heart calmed and the fear within his chest faded. For the first time, Baekhyun heard what Chanyeol must have always heard within the sounds of those fragile guzheng strings. It was the sound of heavens.

He heard the sound of the first stream of sunlight breaking at dawn’s hour. He heard the sound of rain pelting the earth in the first fall of spring. He heard the sound of birds chirping as they flew away from home to the far off land in preparation for winter. In that moment, Baekhyun heard all but only one. The earth blended into one being, one soul.

That was the sound of the universe; an indescribable set of chords that encompassed all and blended everything into nothing. It was the music of nature, the song of the souls that existed in all things around them.

For a moment, Baekhyun though he could hear the grass around him breathing. There was poetry in everything at that moment. It was as though the entire world had frozen and shifted into a string of notes; a stanza on a long lost poem.

The poem surrounded him, encompassed him until he too was part of it. He saw his childhood – his lack of one. He saw his emperor, his people, his kingdom and he saw Chanyeol. His entire life flashed in front of him; every single emotion he had ever felt came together then and merged into a crashing wave that slammed across his chest. Baekhyun saw despair, then, but also hope. He saw his past and his future…but the last thing he saw was his present, and that was Chanyeol.

The last note drifted into the air, carried by the slight breeze that surround them.

Baekhyun opened his eyes.

“What did you hear, Baekhyun?”

It was a question unanswerable. He had heard everything yet heard nothing. Baekhyun thought for a moment and then responded with the only word that could possibly describe anything of the small piece of wonder he had just experienced.

“I heard life, Chanyeol, life.”

Chanyeol smiled as his fingers glazed over the light strings softly, tenderly touching them as though those strings held all the magic in the world.

“We live in a bloody world, Baekhyun. Sometimes I have to remind myself that there is beauty in it. If there were not beauty in it, if I forgot even for a minute that the universe held magic in it, I would lose myself. What would I fight for if our world was void of this beauty, instead encompassed by the darkness inherent in each human soul?”

He paused and drew a long gaze at the heavens before turning back to Baekhyun and continuing, “When I play, it reminds me that there are some things in this world that continue to be worth fighting for. That is what makes me brave. I believe that those things are worth dying for.”

Baekhyun leaned forward so that he and Chanyeol were only inches apart. His voice was soft and fragile, like the wings on white butterflies, “And Chanyeol, for you, what is worth dying for?”

“Well, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol replied with a slight smile playing on his lips, “lately when I play, I see only one thing.” He edged closer so that their foreheads touched. Their eyes locked in a long gaze.

Baekhyun felt his heartbeat quicken.

“You.”

And just for that one moment, Baekhyun thought he might be willing to die for Chanyeol as well.

Baekhyun tried desperately to find that same magic he had found in Chanyeol’s melody from Yixing’s song. But he could not. Yixing played beautifully, strummed tunes that only angels should have been capable of mastering, but it was not the same. It would never be the same as the songs Chanyeol played.

When Chanyeol played, Baekhyun felt alive.

“Thank you Yixing, you may leave now,” Baekhyun said as he opened his eyes and rose from the table. It was time. To battle.