Even Immortality Ends - Chapter 16 - keneke - 崩坏：星穹铁道 (2024)

Chapter Text

Resurrection was the height of suffering, his body numb until a sudden pulse of the heart shattered through his nerves. His empty lungs would constrict, gasping painfully until air finally returned, organs twisting and clenching back into living.

He could feel everything, every part of his body moving. It filled him with a deep sense of nausea, this far too close connection to his physical self.

Then came the snapping and reconnection of bones that had been broken, splitting through his flesh until returned to their correct positioning, muscle and tendon stitching back over.

Spider lilies blossomed in his wake around them, the abundance in his blood bursting with the infection of life.

Ren twisted, panting as his body healed itself, but was held in place by a pair of arms.

“It’s okay, Ren,” the voice spoke against his temple. “You’re awake now.”

He gripped onto Dan Heng, knowing it to be him. Fingers clutching against the vidyadhara’s back as the bloody marks clawed across his chest began to spring together, ribs cracking. This time, these wounds had been self-inflicted.

There was no escaping the mara, the destruction and loathing it festered.

In the past, his mara would set its path onto Dan Heng. But now, his anger had dissipated. Even in the haze of the mara, Ren’s body couldn’t bring itself to hurt him, at least not on purpose. It was only when Dan Heng interfered that he might unintentionally lash out.

And so the mara had reared its head to its next destination. Himself.

He knew it hurt Dan Heng to watch it happen, to have to witness Ren tearing himself apart. Matted, sticky blood smeared across skin, brutalization of the body and self. He remembered the last time the mara had taken a hold of him, waking up to his face in completely unrecognizable ruin, Dan Heng crying into his chest and begging him to stop.

This time it hadn’t been so violent, the worst of the wounds centered around his chest and stomach. He glanced down, hazily watching as the last of his intestines slipped back into his body, flesh growing atop the gaping canyon there.

Recently, Ren had been better able to tell when the mara strikes would occur, feeling it welling up under his skin. It made them easier to handle, since at the very least he and Dan Heng could find somewhere isolated to wait it out. Ren hadn’t wanted Dan Heng there at first, but the vidyadhara had insisted, refusing to leave him alone.

It was a source of comfort, Ren had to admit, to have Dan Heng by his side when he awoke from the clutches of the mara.

“How long did it take?” he rasped after some time.

“Just a few minutes,” Dan Heng replied, summoning small pools of water against each of his fingertips and cleaning the skin of Ren’s face. “Better than last time.”

Ren tried to focus on his breathing, looking down at his wretched body. “I suppose it was preferable to happen now and not this evening.”

Dan Heng gave him a sad smile. “That’s true.”

When his body was finally stitched together enough, Dan Heng helped him to his feet, supporting his side as they began to walk back to the inn they were staying at.

Several hours later, after a bath and a period of getting ready together, the two of them headed back out again. Dan Heng wore lilac hanfu robes, Ren in a darker navy shade. The vidyadhara held onto his arm as they set out to the city, the festival already having begun.

The two of them had come to the Zhuming for their Qixi Festival, theirs being the most popular across the Xianzhou fleet. Ren had been hesitant at first, not understanding why they couldn’t just stay on the Luofu. But Dan Heng had been adamant about coming to the Zhuming, and so Ren had acquiesced.

Admittedly, he felt wary here. Nerves on high, feeling cold in the pit of his stomach.

It had been hundreds of years since he had last stepped foot on this ship. He had been a different person back then.

This place he had once called home was now a familiar stranger.

But Dan Heng was smiling, pulling him along the street side vendors to try the sugar paintings, small bowls of tangyuan, and special qixi noodles on sale. Summer had settled into a humid evening, Dan Heng having to purchase a new folding fan from an older vidyadhara vendor selling her hand painted collection.

The streets were littered with similar attractions, red paper lanterns lighting the night as pairs of couples roamed about. Their fingers were interlaced, warm and steady.

“Ah, you two!” a voice called out. Ren gazed offhandedly at the source, an old foxian man waving them over. “Yes! Yes, you two!”

Ren huffed, not entirely wanting to get caught up into whatever scheme he was selling, but Dan Heng was already leading them there. Five other couples stood around the vendor, six bamboo steaming baskets standing there waiting to be opened.

“Try your chances!” the foxian explained, gesturing out to the steamers. “Only one couple will get the dumplings for good luck.”

Ren watched as Dan Heng pulled out his small money pouch, handing over several coins to the vendor to participate.

The vidyadhara turned to him. “You pick.”

Sighing, Ren picked the leftmost basket, opening up the lid to allow the steam to escape. Once all the couples had chosen their basket, they were given chopsticks to eat the dumplings at the same time.

On the countdown, they all bit halfway into their dumplings.

Ren paused, a sweet and musky taste on his tongue.

“Ah,” Dan Heng commented. “Longan.”

Apparently their good luck was rewarded with cheaply made charms, already looking like the fabric was about to fall apart. But as the foxian handed them their charms, he gave them a short congratulations.

“That’s not any old basic luck for your relationship, you know? Longian dumplings symbolize a happy marriage!”

So, despite the overpriced gimmick, Ren felt as if it had been worth it, now feeling more inclined to look through each of the booths with Dan Heng.

As they were about to cross one of the bridges spanning over the length of the large lake in the heart of the city, Dan Heng pulled him to the side underneath the covering of several mulberry trees.

“Don’t move,” Dan Heng said, coming behind Ren and pulling out the simple hairpiece he usually wore to part his hair. Ren did as he was told, staying put as he felt Dan Heng play with his hair for a moment.

He felt something being slid back into his hair, pinning it up into a familiar positioning, though he hadn’t worn it in that way in centuries.

Dan Heng finally finished, hand sliding down Ren’s shoulder as he came back to his front.

The vidyadhara was smiling, effortlessly beautiful as he tucked a few locks of Ren’s bangs back.

“Handsome,” he said, eyes taking in Ren’s face and figure.

Ren had the sudden urge to grab Dan Heng then, bring him close to his chest and kiss the breath out of him. Pull up the hem of Dan Heng’s robes, bunching it up at his waist so he could run his hands up the length of his thighs.

Unfortunately, even with how open Dan Heng was to indulging him, doing it right in the middle of a crowded festival probably went too far. Ren huffed, mildly disappointed.

Dan Heng took out his phone though, showing Ren a photo on the screen. It was the back of his head from just now so he could see the pin there.

It resembled the pin he used to wear the most back then before it was lost, this time the flower being a golden lotus instead.

“I had been working on this for a while,” Dan Heng fondly admitted, putting his phone back in his small bag. “It took quite a bit to keep it hidden from you until now. I’m out of practice when it comes to things like this, but…”

Ren blinked, reaching back to touch at the pin gently with his fingers. It was well made.

He leaned down to kiss Dan Heng, tasting the lingering sweetness of the sugar paintings they had eaten on the vidyadhara’s tongue.

Dan Heng pressed into his kiss one last time before tapping his knuckles against Ren’s forehead.

“Patience,” he chided, readjusting his robes back into order and taking a subtle peek around to make sure no one had paid too much attention to them.

“It’s lovely. Your hands are still well suited for creation,” Ren said, voice sly and smile curling. “Even the lotus flower. Though, I suppose this is another subtle way of yours to claim ownership of me. Shall I lower the line of my collar so they can all see the marks you left on my skin?”

The vidyadhara unfolded his paper fan with a clack, hiding his lower face behind its delicate painting of a bamboo grove.

“We’re in public. Hush,” Dan Heng whispered tightly, turning around and beginning to walk away.

Coming to his side, Ren could still see the hints of a blush on his cheeks, and he took Dan Heng’s hand as they continued walking to the lake’s bridge.

They didn’t stand out, surrounded by couples of all ages all headed to the same area to get their lanterns to send off when the time was ready. As they walked, however, Ren kept thinking of the new pin that was adorning his hair now.

Back then, the two of them would exchange gifts rather often. Typically ones they had created themselves.

He wanted more than anything to have something to give back to Dan Heng, something he had created with his own hands.

Ren felt hyper aware now of his shaking hands. No matter how much he wished, he could never use them in the way he had before. He wasn’t a craftsman anymore, wasn’t a swordsmith, wasn’t an artist. All he was now was a weapon.

That fire in his life had been extinguished long ago.

As much as he tried to take his mind off of it, the hurt of it twisted in his chest like a knife.

Dan Heng seemed to notice the change in his demeanor, squeezing his hand and looking at him.

There was worry in the vidyadhara’s eyes, but he smiled through it.

“Everything okay?”

Ren gazed at him, at that earnest and caring expression. He squeezed his hand back in response.

“Mn. I’m okay. Hurry, so we can get a good spot.”

Ren took the lead, pulling Dan Heng along so they could beat out the other pairings. He managed to get them a spot by the lake side, upon one of the smooth and flattened stones that they could sit on. It wasn’t long until the entire lake on all sides was surrounded by couples alike, all of them holding a paper lantern ready to be lit.

Ren’s heart thumped as he glanced at Dan Heng, the small fire from their lantern illuminating his face in such warm light. It shone upon his delicate features, which could become so fierce or so gentle.

Dan Heng’s eyes rose, their gazes meeting. The vidayadhara’s lips parted as if he were about to say something, but then an echoing gong sounded, met with excited murmurs and gasps throughout the large crowd.

Slowly, lanterns of golden light began to float up around them, like a sea of glowing stars. They reflected against the dark waters of the lake, creating an illusion of infinite, surrounding lights.

“Make a wish,” Dan Heng softly said, closing his own eyes. Ren looked at him for a moment longer before shutting his own, placing his hands on top of Dan Heng’s which were still holding their lantern.

That wish which he had buried down for so long had already come true. To be reunited with Dan Heng, to have his love once more. And his last wish, to die alongside Dan Heng… he felt in his heart would come to completion as well.

So what of now? What else did he wish for?

He could sense that Dan Heng was done with his, feeling his gaze despite his own eyes still being closed.

I wish-

I wish I could be better for you. I wish I was more like… him.

Yingxing.

That past self who he was tied to, and yet somehow felt so lost from. He had Dan Heng back, but his own self had been shattered, split upon the rocks under Jingliu’s hand and through the sickening infection of mara.

He opened his eyes, almost frozen into place by the tenderness in Dan Heng’s eyes, the curve of his lips. Slowly, Dan Heng raised their hands, lifting the lantern up before letting it go. They watched as it floated above, joining the endless number of others in the night sky.

This time it was Ren who sought out Dan Heng’s comfort, leaning down to shorten their height difference, resting his head on the vidyadhara’s shoulder. Like this, he could push away the thoughts of pain and regret.

Together they stayed under those lanterns of stars, far into the night.

The next day, Dan Heng set out to explore the Zhuming, pulling Ren alongside him. Despite his insistence that he had nowhere in particular to go, it felt like Dan Heng was making purposeful turns and directions down pathways Ren clearly remembered.

After some time, their surroundings became far too familiar.

The Flamewheel Forge was one of the largest complexes present on the Zhuming, spanning almost an entire neighborhood. It was easy to spot from even afar, given the plumes of smoke rising from the furnaces, the sound of metal crashing, the feeling of heat rising. As each of these senses became more prominent, Ren could feel the lingering dread present in his stomach rising.

He didn’t like to doubt Dan Heng anymore. But now, as Dan Heng pulled him closer, he began to question the vidyadhara’s intentions.

“Dan Heng,” Ren said, wearily eyeing the outskirts of the forge. His heart was beginning to race, skin becoming cold. He felt as if he were in danger, a severe instinct to run pummeling through his body. “I don’t want to be here. Let’s go another way.”

Dan Heng gave him one of those looks, a blend of worry but also stubborn perseverance hidden through a smile. “Ren, it’s okay. This forge… this is where you were an apprentice. I wanted to bring you here.”

Ren suddenly jerked his hand out of Dan Heng’s, feeling as if had been burned. That fire likely reflected over to Dan Heng from the way the vidyadhara’s eyes widened, glancing quickly at his bracer which was probably sparking in vivid warmth.

“ No, ” Ren said, harsher than he had wanted. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to be here.

Dan Heng’s expression flickered with confusion, and the vidyadhara took a small step forward to hold Ren’s hand again.

“I thought it would be good for you to see this place again.”

“No, it’s not. I want to leave.”

How many days, months, years, had he spent here? Engulfed in his training, utterly absorbed with the flame and pulling of metal into a weapon. His family gone, this had been his home. He spent his nights here, sleeping by the fires of the forges to stay warm until Master Huaiyan had found out, giving him a room in his own home. He had been heralded a prodigy, the other apprentices watching him as he worked, his hands dextrous and skilled.

How deeply he loved his life, his passion, his craft.

And it was all gone now.

He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be cruelly reminded of what he had lost. This place could only hurt him now.

So why did it also pain him to see that blooming of sadness in Dan Heng’s eyes? The way he continued to hold on to him?

“But, don’t you wish to see your master again?” Dan Heng tried as a final attempt.

What, for his master to see how far he had fallen? To see such potential and success be completely wasted? He knew that Master Huaiyan had been proud of him, he knew that.

But now he was a stain upon the Flamewheel Forge. He was a failure, completely ruined.

“I don’t, so stop! ” he finally snapped, voice raising in a way it hadn’t in many months.

Dan Heng finally let him go, blinking at him in hurt.

They stared at each other, emotions rising and bracers scorching on their skin.

Ren shifted his weight, ready to turn heel and walk away when a voice resounded from above.

“Yingxing.”

He didn’t look up. All he could hear was his own blood rushing through his veins, all he could feel was the sickening tightness in his chest.

“General Huaiyan,” Dan Heng quietly spoke, polite yet with an underlying strain. “I-”

“It’s quite alright, young one.”

His voice sounded the same as Ren remembered it.

“Come on inside now, the both of you.”

His small footsteps retreated off of the balcony overlooking them. Ren’s fists tightened, nails digging into his palms.

Silence for a moment, tense and brittle.

“Ren,” Dan Heng eventually murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder blade.

He turned around, expression bitter.

“Are you happy now?”

He pushed past Dan Heng, hating all of this. Hating the situation he was now forced into, hating the way he was acting toward Dan Heng. But he felt powerless, like that familiar wave he thought had been receding now cresting over him again, sucking the breath out of his lungs and drowning him.

They were at one of the backway entrances in the west hall of the forge, one that Ren remembered. The air was already heavy as he came inside, the lighting far dimmer than outside in the sun.

Despite his years apart from this place, apart from anywhere resembling a forge, his lungs were long adapted to the smoky air inside. They were just at the entrance, but the smell of burning iron, sulfur from the burning of coal, dust and sweat permeated the atmosphere.

Dan Heng coughed as he stepped inside, his eyes clearly welling up from the depth of air. Another day Ren would have grinned, pulled out a handkerchief to wipe at the vidyadhara’s eyes, but the simmering sense of betrayal was far too strong currently.

Ren watched with hard eyes as Huaiyan slowly came down the stairs leading to the outer balcony, dressed today in typical wear inside the forge - long cotton sleeves already smudged with black, a leather smock and boots. He blended in quite well like this, though no one from the Zhuming would ever be unable to recognize this man.

“It’s been some time since I saw you last, High Elder,” Huaiyan said, letting go of the railing now that he was at the base of the stairs. “How is the rest of your Express doing?”

“Quite well, General,” Dan Heng spoke, breathing a bit strained. “It’s good to see you again, in more relaxed circ*mstances. Though you may simply call me Dan Heng now, as I am no longer a High Elder.”

“Ah,” Huaiyan laughed, waving his hand down. “I suppose that’s right. But forgive this old man. I’ve met your reincarnations countless times now over my thousands of years.”

Dan Heng gave Huaiyan a small smile. Ren didn’t reciprocate, feeling stiff as he looked over his old master. He looked about the same, perhaps a few more wrinkles.

When Ren had first been taken in as an apprentice, a recent orphan, he and Huaiyan had been at similar heights. Then, as the years passed, Ren shot up above him to where he currently stood now.

But in that old lifetime, Ren had grown older too. He and Huaiyan had met again on the Luofu, once. When Ren had been Yingxing.

But now his age had been taken from him, stripped away forcefully.

He had thought about it before, what it would be like to meet Huaiyan again. But whenever he did, the swelling of fear and misery became too much, and he quickly dispersed the thoughts of it. So now, he stood before him, defenseless and feeling as if he were drowning.

Huaiyan finally turned to face him, neck craned so he could look up the height of Ren’s stature. “Well, if it isn’t the Stellaron Hunter. I heard I could acquire a pretty price for you.”

The elder had settled for a joking tone, clearly something to split through the obvious tension. But there was nothing about this that Ren found humorous.

“It’s been a long time.”

Huaiyan’s eyes curved. “Indeed. I thought in the hundreds of years that have passed that you would have come to see this old master.”

I didn’t know how.

“I am no longer that apprentice.”

Huaiyan’s expression didn’t change, unphased by Ren’s statement. He could sense though the way Dan Heng stiffened, the vidyadhara giving him a tense glance.

“Is that so? And yet you still look like that Yingxing who came into my forge so many years ago, claiming that you could prove your worth despite being a mere child.”

“That is no longer my name.”

Huaiyan raised a brow. “I saw. Ren . Perhaps I would respect it if it were a more fitting name.”

“You-”

“Dan Heng,” Huaiyan interrupted, giving that sweet and relaxed expression again to the vidyadhara. “You may leave Yingxing in my care for today. Perhaps later this week we may share tea and chat for longer.”

Dan Heng gave him a respectful bow. “Of course, I would be happy to.”

Ren didn’t move, not wanting to look at the vidyadhara. Regardless, Dan Heng still placed a hesitant palm on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll be there waiting for you at the inn once you come back.”

Ren didn’t respond, and once Dan Heng realized that he wasn’t going to, he finally left the forge in soft strides. It left Ren and Huaiyan alone together.

The older man gave him a scrutinizing look, as if attempting to analyze how to best wrangle him.

“Come. We have a shipment coming in later today through this entrance. Let us move further inside.”

He waved his hand to beckon Ren, turning around and already walking deeper into the forge.

Ren stared at his retreating form, the man not looking back to see if he was going to follow. As if he already knew that Ren would.

Fists clenching, Ren followed.

Bitterness stung at his throat as Ren’s eyes flickered around the various workstations. New apprentices, young and old, continuing their craft and passion. Sparks of glowing metal, steam and smoke. He used to spend his nights here, uncaring of his fatigue, empowered by his love for the stretching and carving of metal.

He turned away, unable to continue watching.

Huaiyan guided him to a tucked away corner of the forge, a backroom where water flowed inside through a gentle waterfall and into a pool. Ren sat down by the pool’s edge, hands resting upon the coarse cobblestone. Like this, they were closer to each other’s heights, although Ren still could see over the older man.

“The last time I saw you was on the Luofu, wasn’t it?” Huaiyan stated, patting off his smock. Dark clouds of charcoal dust fluttered to the floor as he did so, even the smell of it was familiar. “You had gray hair by then, and married for quite some time. Never did I expect for my prized apprentice to exchange vows with a vidyadhara High Elder. I remember I was rather aggrieved at not receiving an invitation for the real ceremony.”

Ren looked through his memories, seeing flashes of that time. He had seen many emotions pass over the face of his beloved, but never before that brand of nervousness. Dan Feng had been anxious for once, and for such a small thing. Meeting Huaiyan for the first time.

The vidyadhara had spent a rather long time readying himself for the encounter, ensuring that he knew all the proper Zhuming customs, anxious with his appearance for the first time in years.

He could still remember clearly the way Dan Feng had offered Huaiyan tea, bowing deeply as they recreated the wedding tea ceremony - this time with one whom his past life considered to be a father, if any.

“You met him eventually,” Ren finally said. “It seems you two have met again since then.”

“Mn,” Huaiyan hummed. “For some time at the Luminary Wardance. He has certainly changed, though some things will always remain the same.”

“Did you bring me here to simply ruminate over the past?”

“Quite the opposite. We are to speak of the present, of the future.”

Ren gave him a wry smile. “I am no longer a child who needs your guidance.”

“You are no child, and yet I still see a man in need of a lesson.”

Huaiyan’s voice was not condescending, rather more along the lines of lecturing. Ren’s expression soured.

“I don’t need your help.”

“It seems you don’t want anyone’s help. You always had that arrogant side to you, but you were logical enough to accept the help of another when necessary. But now, it seems regardless of everything, you reject this.”

Ren bit down hard on his tongue, anger building up inside of his stomach. “Stop talking like you understand me. You know nothing of my life these last centuries.”

But Huaiyan still stood his ground, chin raised up in appraisal at Ren. “I know more than you think, Yingxing. I am aware that you have been twisted into immortality against your will. I know you were taken away by that Swords Master for all that time.”

The old man’s eyes pointed down at Ren’s hands. “Perhaps I do not know all the details, but I can tell she tortured you. Your hands are in disarray.”

Ren scoffed. “And what, you think you can help that? You think I have not tried everything in my power to fix these? Even my own regeneration can’t heal these hands.”

Huaiyan gazed at him carefully. “No. I can’t fix your hands. Even I can tell that they are irreparable.”

And Ren knew this. Of course he did. So why did Huaiyan’s words still result in a sick feeling contorting inside of him?

“Then you should understand that the reason I don’t want your help, or anyone’s help in this matter, is because there is nothing to be done,” Ren tightly spoke. “Everything that made me a worthwhile individual is lost. I am no longer your apprentice. I am no longer Yingxing.”

The two of them remained there in silence, Ren’s words echoing between them.

Ren had Dan Heng. That’s all he needed. It was enough to have him.

His own existence didn’t matter. Why should it?

Out of seemingly nowhere, Huaiyan gave a sturdy smack against the side of Ren’s head.

Ren balked at him, about to open his mouth and throw out an instinctual insult before Huaiyan again beat him to the chase.

“Foolish. I didn’t accept you as an apprentice because of your hands. Yes, you had plenty of natural born talent with those, but that wasn’t what made you special.”

Huaiyan pointed at Ren’s forehead and then his chest.

“I took you in because of your mind and your heart. That is what set you apart. That is why you became the Furnace Master of the Luofu. How you have seemingly forgotten that fact.”

Ren glowered, feeling bitter. “You can say those flowery words all you want. It doesn’t change the fact of the matter. I can’t forge. I can’t craft. Not anymore. I could think of any design, but I can never again create it into existence.”

He could feel it so clearly then, the shaking of his hands, starting at his wrists and ending at finger tips. Utterly ruined. An entire aspect of his past life, something that gave him such personal meaning, completely taken from him. And Jingliu had intended for that to be the case - to punish him forever knowing he could never do such feats again.

“Do not think that I am disregarding your feelings, Yingxing. I understand them quite well.”

Huaiyan gestured down at his own body with his eyes. “You have only seen me like this. But thousands of years ago, I was young. My body was strong, there was no steel I could not bend with my bare fingers, no fire I could not breathe into my lungs.”

He looked back up at Ren. “But age found me. My body ached. I couldn’t do what used to be so natural, so easy to me. My joints burned like fire, they still do. My arms fail me in flexibility, my chest as well. I changed. But that does not mean that I was ruined.”

Huaiyan lifted his old, wrinkled hands. “Do you not think there are others in the realm of swordsmithing and craftsmanship who have faced these issues? In every field of art, of labor, our bodies may fail us. Whether it be because of the erosion of time, how we were born, or the circ*mstances of life. And although it may change our approach, it may be more difficult, frustrating, there is no change that we too cannot change with.”

“As I said. A true swordsmith comes from the mind and heart. Not the body,” Huaiyan said with conviction. “You have suffered, Yingxing. You have been wronged. You have been permanently changed in some ways. But you are not ruined. Never.”

Ren was silent, unsure of how to feel. For so many years he had believed himself to be destroyed, denied this passion he used to hold so dearly. He didn’t want to have hope because hope would lead to disappointment. He couldn’t deny the fear bubbling in his stomach.

“Come back tomorrow morning. I’ll have an old student come over to show you exactly what I mean. He’ll show you the basics, and you will take the reins from there.”

Ren opened the door to their bedroom, finally having come back to the inn they were staying at. He had left soon after that conversation in the Flamewheel Forge, trudging his feet around the area so he wouldn’t come back so soon. Night was beginning to fall by the time he returned.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted to avoid Dan Heng like this.

Sweet incense swirled through their room, and Ren could see the vidyadhara sitting by one of the low tables as he took off his tailcoat by the door. Dan Heng looked up from where he was, already in his night robe with washed hair flat against his back.

The vidyadhara stood up, neat and quiet footsteps as he padded closer.

“Ren,” he said, then pausing. Ren saw the hesitation, the way Dan Heng was searching for the best words to say. “How did it go?”

The vidyadhara put a hand against Ren’s collarbones, so obviously controlling his expression into one of calm.

Ren felt his breath flare, pushing past Dan Heng and further into the room.

“You shouldn’t have done that. Why wouldn’t you tell me beforehand? Did you honestly think I would be happy to be back there after everything that has happened?” Ren demanded, reaching back to tug his hairpin out of place.

Dan Heng didn’t say anything at first. Instead he remained in place, looking down at the floor with half lidded eyes.

“I didn’t think it would make you happy. I know you better than that. But I still thought it was best.”

“Best?” Ren barked out in a wry laugh. “And why do you think you are the one most suited to make that decision for me on what is best? When you can’t even respect my wishes?”

Dan Heng’s brow furrowed, and finally the vidyadhara looked up at him. He was holding his hands tightly in front of himself, pale fingers now turning red.

“I respect your wishes. But you do not always act in your best interests. You turn away from help. I thought for once you wouldn’t turn away from my help.”

Ren glowered darkly, pricklings of anger building up. “I don’t want help. There’s nothing to help. It would be best if you and that old man would finally accept that.”

“I don’t accept that,” Dan Heng immediately answered, standing poised and tall. The scales upon his azure tail shimmered underneath the lighting in the bedroom. “And I don’t because I love you, Ren.”

He had no doubt in his heart that Dan Heng loved him, he knew it in his core, his soul. But he still couldn't understand why Dan Heng cared so much about this.

And so he said words that came from a place of bitterness rather than true feelings. He stood up, boiling over.

“So what? I’m not good enough for you as I am now?”

Dan Heng gave him a hard, pointed look. Regardless, the vidyadhara came closer as a result, still placing a palm against Ren’s cheek despite his conflicting expression.

“You are always enough for me. In both sickness and suffering, always. But this isn’t about me. I don’t wish for you to… heal for my sake. I wish it for your sake.”

“ Heal? Is that what you want to call this?”

“I want you to see yourself for who you truly are. Past all this anger, this hopelessness.”

Ren pulled away, their bracers flaring with heat. His heart pulsed painfully in his chest.

“No, you just want Yingxing.”

Dan Heng’s tail swished against the wooden floors. “I want you.”

He didn’t want to hear this anymore.

Dan Heng was still speaking to him in a controlled voice, though now there were hints of desperation in the cracks. “You told me once that you feared change. And back then, I thought you simply meant that you feared our relationship changing from the way it was in the past. But now I can see that this fear is deeper than that. You also fear changing yourself. You fear looking back at your own reflection.”

Ren exhaled shakily, a thumping at the inside of his skull. He hated it. Hated thinking of himself, what he used to be.

Dan Heng’s eyes softened. “But you have nothing to fear. I am here with you. You have so many others with you as well.”

“Stop it,” Ren forced out. “I don’t want to speak of this for any longer. This is all useless. I can’t give you what you want. I’m nothing like him. I thought you understood that.”

The vidyadhara’s gaze shifted into confusion. “And I thought we were past this. For so many years I rejected my past because of my shattered memories. And you ached for me to accept my identity, who I truly am. So why do you stand before me doing the same?”

“It’s different.”

“Yingxing,” Dan Heng said.

It wasn’t the first time Dan Heng had said that name. And it was his name, but it wasn’t him. He had changed beyond recognition. And so this time hearing that name twisted inside of Ren like it never had before.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Yingxing, it’s you.”

“Stop it!” Ren snapped, bitterness so strong he almost feared that the mara would creep out. It hadn’t, but it didn’t stop the tenseness in his body, the forced breathing.

“I’m not-“

Ren bit down on his tongue. Not what?

A flash of memory. Bringing Dan Feng into his forge, pulling him closer into his arms despite the vidyadhara’s gasp, smudging dusty charcoal against his cheeks and hands. He had laughed as Dan Feng flustered, dodging his attempts to pinch him.

A part of him still ached, the part that still desired that happiness.

“I need to-“ Ren closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “I need to go. I’m going for a walk.”

Dan Heng blinked, eyes widening. “What?”

He walked past the vidyadhara, back to the door to put his shoes back on. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t go,” Dan Heng said, walking closer and grabbing his hand tightly. “Don’t leave.”

Ren pulled out his grip easily. “I’m not leaving. I just need air.”

“Then let me come with you,” Dan Heng said. “We don’t have to say anything.”

“No,” Ren rejected. “I want to be alone. Don’t follow me.”

Dan Heng’s expression fell, that controlled demeanor finally crumbling apart. “Won’t you tell me where you’re going at least?”

He thought of that time on the Luofu, when they had first come back to their estate. Dan Heng had asked him the same thing, but that time had eventually come to find him.

“No. I don’t want you to follow me.”

Ren left then, not looking back. He didn’t want to see the hurt expression on Dan Heng, knowing that it might sway him to stay.

His lungs burned as he went outside, stepping across cobblestone pathways he used to tread upon. The night sky was littered with clouds, covering both stars and moon.

He eventually found his way to an isolated space by one of the Zhuming lakes, upon a grassy cliff side overlooking it. A strong wind passed over the waters, shifting the limbs of the tree above Ren and brushing through his hair.

Ren sat down there, resting against the thick body of the tree.

He was tired. He wanted to lay next to Dan Heng. He didn’t want to.

Looking down, he grimaced as he saw that the bandages upon one of his hands had become unraveled.

But as he tried to wrap it again, he found that his hands struggled worse than before, furiously fumbling about with the thin bandages.

“ Work ,” he angrily pleaded, staring down at his trembling hands. Loathing, bitter hatred.

“ Why ? Why won’t you work?”

Eventually he became so frustrated that he ripped the remains of the bloody bandages off his hands, throwing them against the ground until the wind carried them away too.

Shard Sword summoned into his shaking hands, gleaming under the night sky.

Tears fell down onto its blade, sliding across metal.

He used to love this creation. How he prized it, how proud he had been to see Jingliu wield it.

Until its blade had been turned onto him, cutting into his skin. And now he was its master, though he doubted Shard Sword had ever truly accepted him.

He felt sick from conflicting desires. The want to keep this sword by his side, and the want to allow it to die.

Ren closed his eyes, still holding on to Shard Sword as the night went on.

He tried to calm his breathing, calm these feelings that overtook him.

It did little though.

Eventually, he heard something.

There were footsteps coming closer, but Ren could recognize that they weren’t Dan Heng’s, so he kept his eyes closed still. He expected them to just pass by, but just as they got past him, that person stopped. Then, they came closer.

Ren finally raised his head, glaring with a cold expression at whoever this was.

It was a girl.

A teenager, perhaps, adorned in rings and bands and charms, a golden headpiece like a crown atop dark hair. They jangled at her movements. She inspected him with large eyes, or rather, inspected Shard Sword.

“What?” he snapped, not feeling any desire to entertain a child presently.

“Let me see your sword,” she said, nodding her head at Shard Sword, looking far too interested in it.

Ren stared at her for a moment. “No. Go away.”

She crossed her arms, clearly trying to come off as intimidating but failing to do so. “I have to see if it’s a cursed sword. It certainly looks like one, so hand it over.”

He scoffed, resisting the desire to roll his eyes. So she was some sword hunter. “It’s not. Now leave.”

“Why are you so defensive? Now you’re just coming across as suspicious,” she began to accuse, feathers ruffling up similarly to that other peaco*ck teenager.

“You’re the one who’s bothering me. I was just sitting here,” Ren said. It seemed like people just wouldn’t leave him alone today. Maybe on some other day he would be more inclined to indulge, considering she was young, but currently his mood was rather foul.

“If you don’t allow me to speak to it and confirm, then I’ll have to consider you a potential harborer of a cursed sword and place you on our watch list.”

Ren glowered. “Why don’t you try doing that then and see what happens?”

The girl bristled, clearly not expecting him to put up such a fight. “For that comment alone I have jurisdiction to take that sword from you!”

This girl really wasn’t going to leave him alone. At worst she would follow him around until he coughed Shard Sword up, and then Dan Heng would probably give him some choice words for stirring up trouble again. Bubbling with annoyance, he finally tossed Shard Sword at her chest, fully expecting her to fall from its weight.

She did stumble slightly, eyes widening in surprise, but she managed to keep her balance after a few seconds.

“See if I care,” Ren muttered, just wanting to leave now. She glared at him once more but refrained from barking at him again.

The girl’s eyes closed as she held Shard Sword close, hand tight around the hilt. Ren watched closely as the fractures along the blade glowed, seemingly resonating with this girl.

Finally, the glowing subsided and the girl opened her eyes, looking up and down the edge of Shard Sword one last time before handing it back to Ren.

“… Apologies. This is not a cursed sword.”

Ren held back an insulting retort, sensing she had more to say considering she wore a complicated expression.

“It certainly has a temper just like you,” she continued, sighing. “But… there was something else.”

She gestured back toward Shard Sword.

“This sword, it wishes to be laid to rest. It does not desire to be wielded for any longer.”

Ren silently stood up. He already knew that. It was his creation, after all.

He had never intended to hold this blade in his own hands, and Shard Sword knew that too. Somehow Jingliu had been able to continue punishing him even now.

Ren began to walk away, somehow feeling worse than he did coming here.

“Wait!” the girl called out, tailing him now. “That sword… where did you get it? It’s of masterful make, one of the finest I have ever held!”

She was far too relentless. Again, she reminded him of that Yanqing.

“It must have come from a master trained at the Flamewheel Forge, correct?”

Ren’s expression darkened, heart twisting painfully. He was no longer a master. He was no Furnace Master, no swordsmith. He was nothing at all.

“Who was it-“

Ren whipped around, startling the girl.

“ No one ,” he spat. “Next time, keep to yourself. Now leave me alone .”

This time she didn’t follow, stunned into place as Ren finally was able to walk away.

Ren went back to the inn after that, irate from being tormented when he had attempted to be alone. If there was no escape from these feelings, then he’d rather experience them from Dan Heng than anyone else.

It was quiet when he came back, though it seemed Dan Heng hadn’t left in the few hours he had been gone. The vidyadhara said nothing this time as Ren came inside, not even looking at him.

Ren sat down on the side of their bed, feeling himself deflate.

It was late. They would have been asleep by now any other night.

He watched from the other side of the room as Dan Heng tried to pull out his hairpiece, one of the pins getting stuck in a lock of hair. Silently, Ren stood up to go help him. But as he got closer, fingers about to pull at the place needed to untangle it, Dan Heng pulled away.

“I’m fine,” Dan Heng said in a forced voice.

Ren’s jaw tightened. Fine.

He turned around, leaving Dan Heng be. As he sat down on his side of the bed, he watched Dan Heng continue to struggle with the hairpin, clearly getting frustrated now. There was the telltale sound of hair ripping before it finally popped loose, Dan Heng tossing it on the vanity as he stood up. A few long, wiry strands of hair descended onto the wooden floors, blending into their lines.

“Are you seriously going to act like you’re the one wronged here?” Ren finally said.

“I’m not acting like anything,” Dan Heng said coldly, detached. It did nothing to calm the sparks firing behind Ren’s teeth, aching against the enamel there.

“You didn’t have any right to do that. To go behind my back and try to bring me somewhere that only haunts me, you-”

“I wasn’t the one who set this up,” Dan Heng said. “General Huaiyan was the one who wanted you there. He was the one who made a special request to Jing Yuan to contact me so I could bring you there. You would have known that had you just talked to me instead of running away.”

“What difference does that make? You still didn’t tell me. You brought me there without telling me what was going to happen. You didn’t care to.”

Dan Heng stepped closer, scoffing in disbelief. “ I didn’t care? I brought you there because I care about you, Ren. I care about you more than anyone else, apparently including yourself.”

The vidyadhara’s ears were pinned back tightly. “You want to talk about caring? Fine. I know I was wrong today. And I’m sorry for that. I feel horrible about it, and I should have told you about it all beforehand. But when we came back here, you shouldn’t have left me alone. You should have sat down and talked to me and we could have figured something out. But instead, you chose to run away.”

Ren watched as Dan Heng shook, both in hurt and anger.

“Even though you know how I feel about that, how much it terrifies me when you leave me behind, you chose to do it.”

Ren tensed, knowing that Dan Heng was right about that, but still too frustrated and bitter about the vidyadhara’s actions as well.

“And yet you think that hiding the truth from me, forcing me into situations that I don’t want is any better? As if you don’t also know how that makes me feel?” Ren scoffed.

“You shouldn't have brought me here. This was a waste of time. I’m not going back there.”

He stood up, wanting to leave but now realizing that he couldn’t just run away. So instead the two of them stood there, frustration rising.

Dan Heng bristled, tail flaring as scales fluttered up his neck and hands.

“Why do you hate yourself so much?” he finally snapped, eyes glistening.

Those words echoed between them, laying them out raw and bare.

Dan Heng blinked hard twice, a tear rolling down his cheek before he quickly rubbed it away with the back of his hand. “You make it so abundantly clear that you do. Why?”

Ren stared at him, feeling his own hands worse than ever.

So that’s what this was about.

“ Why? ” he hoarsely laughed. “Just look at me.”

Dan Heng shook his head, but Ren continued. He tugged his shirt up and off his neck, exposing the long canyons of scars that littered his body. He held out his arms, his hands.

“I’m disgusting,” he forced out. “I’m nothing like I was. I’m a ruined body. And even more, I pale in comparison to Yingxing. I know that.”

“That’s not true,” Dan Heng argued.

“It is. I lack everything that made me special then. My hands are useless. My soul is fractured. I’m nothing like him. All I am is loaned time from a past long lost.”

In the past, he knew what anger was. He knew what hatred was. But not like this. It didn’t consume him, it didn’t define him.

“No,” Dan Heng said. “You’re not lost, you’re right here. Please.”

Ren’s head was throbbing, as if a nail were being hammered into his skull, milky fluid spilling out in the crevices.

He didn’t want to think about this.

Dan Heng grabbed his hands, holding them tightly. “Ren. You have me. You will always have me. But I am not the totality of your existence. You are your own person, your own life. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You are so much more than what you think. You aren’t empty. You’re alive .”

The vidyadhara looked deeply into his eyes, searching for one Ren had already departed from.

“ Yingxing .”

“Stop it.”

“It’s you. Yingxing, please. Forgive yourself the way you have forgiven me. Love yourself the way you love me.”

He thought back to his wish last night. Of wanting to be better. Of wanting… to be like he used to be.

Dan Heng loved him, he knew that. But he couldn’t stop thinking of how it used to be, of how he used to be.

But it was gone.

“I can’t,” Ren finally said, pulling his hands back. “This isn’t something that can be fixed.”

Dan Heng didn’t say anything, but Ren could tell how much he had hurt him with those words. He had to look away, unable to meet Dan Heng’s eyes for any longer.

It was even more reason as to why he couldn’t care to value himself. Even now, all he could do was hurt others.

Dan Heng silently parted from his side, getting onto his side of the bed and slipping underneath the covers.

Ren stayed where he was, gaze feeling empty and colorless. After some time, he finally got into bed himself, turning off the lamp and casting darkness into the room.

Everything felt horribly loud in their silence, every breath and minor movement. Overly aware of each other and the words they had shared.

Ren rolled over to his side, hesitantly placing a hand onto Dan Heng’s arm.

His body and mind in constant battle with one another, conflicted and complicated.

Ren didn’t want to talk, but he still wanted to hold him.

He got his answer rather quickly.

“Don’t,” Dan Heng said, pulling his shoulder away and curling up tightly into himself. Even his tail shifted away from Ren. “Please… just not tonight.”

Ren laid back down, facing the ceiling in silence as the long night went on.

In the muted haze of dreams, he opened his eyes. It was quiet, except for the gentle lapping of water against the edge of a lakeside. He looked over to his left.

A reflection of himself from the past sat there, looking out at the water. Yingxing.

He couldn’t speak in the dream, couldn’t move on his own outside of what the dream willed.

Yingxing finally turned his head to face him, smiling. Lavender eyes, silver hair.

“We’ve changed,” Yingxing said softly. “And we will continue to.”

Ren awoke earlier than Dan Heng the next morning, lightheaded from a lack of breath. He opened blurry eyes, looking down to see a familiar thick tail that had found its way to sit atop his chest sometime during the night.

Typically all of Dan Heng was in his arms, but Ren realized why he wasn’t once memories of last night came back to him. His body tensed, that unpleasant feeling sinking back into him.

He didn’t want to go.

But Master Huaiyan wanted him to. Dan Heng wanted him to.

Why? Why did it matter so much?

That past was dead.

Ren shut his eyes, brows pinching together tightly. He wasn’t foolish. He knew how hypocritical these thoughts were. Just a few years ago he had accosted Dan Heng for saying the same thing, hating and resenting the vidyadhara for denying his past, for claiming that he was a new person.

And yet now he did the same.

He bit down on his tongue, feeling and tasting the iron of blood spilling across.

There was a difference, though. Dan Heng, even though his memories were shattered, he wasn’t all so different from the past. The same personality, the same soul that sought to do good, to protect and to stride forward. It made sense that he had associated with the Nameless.

But Ren was different. He was tainted with blood, with malice, with resentment.

He thought of his wish underneath those floating lanterns once again as he glanced over at Dan Heng. The vidyadhara was still asleep, and truly asleep at that.

He didn’t want to go.

Ren resisted the urge to let out that frustrated sound pent up in his throat.

One day. One day was all he would give, and then they could go back to the Luofu. They could leave this ship that Ren had once considered home.

He left silently, carefully slipping out underneath Dan Heng’s tail and getting dressed. Then, once outside of their inn, he made his way through the maze of the city, taking in all that had stayed the same and all that had changed over those long years.

It was uncomfortable walking back into that forge, unknowing now of what to do, where to go. He waited for a while by where Huaiyan had told him to come, becoming rather irritated by the older man not showing up at the time he had said yesterday.

It wasn’t until half an hour later, when Ren was just about to leave, that Huaiyan showed.

“Ah, you’re here,” he said. He was holding fabrics in his hands. The wear of a smith in this forge.

“I came at the time you told me to. You’re the one who was late,” Ren said darkly.

“I predicted you would be late from moping about, so I told our guest today to come later as well. How good, it seems you’re more enthused than I expected.”

Ren wanted to rebuke that, but was silenced by Huaiyan throwing the garments into his chest. He grabbed hold of them, looking down. They were worn over time. His eyes widened, recognizing the exact fraying of threads, small stains, stitches done over again.

These had belonged to him.

“You held onto these for all this time?” he questioned.

Huaiyan waved his hand, already beginning to walk into one of the more private work stations of the forge. It seemed he wasn’t going to answer that question.

“Go get changed, then come meet us.”

All of it still fit him, the feel of it familiar against his skin. He didn’t understand what emotions were swelling inside of himself.

There was someone waiting by the workbench when he came inside, laying out their equipment. Ren already wanted to leave, truly not feeling in the mood to meet someone new.

But he was already here.

One day. Just one day.

Huaiyan made a sound of approval, nodding his head once as he took in the sight of Ren in his old uniform. Likely looking like a reflection of the past, if it weren’t for the crimson eyes and deep scars upon his skin.

“Good.”

Huaiyan looked up at the other man in the room. “Muyang, this is my past apprentice, Yingxing. Do forgive his temper.”

Muyang bowed his head to show respect, though Ren hardly understood why.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Master Yingxing,” Muyang said. “I’ve heard many stories about you. As a fellow short lived species, you gave me inspiration to become a swordsmith.”

“I’m no master,” Ren said, feeling a burn of shame. After all, wasn’t this stranger supposed to be the one handing him a lesson today?

He turned to Huaiyan. “I did not wish to come today. So what is it that I was supposed to be shown?”

Muyang cleared his throat, catching Ren’s attention again.

“I understand that we have experiences that may overlap.”

He finally lifted his arms for display.

It was then that Ren could see that this Muyang was missing one of his hands, the other hand missing three of its fingers. Instead there were mechanical prosthetics, made from a mix of metals and gears.

“I lost them in a fire when I was twenty seven,” Muyang explained. “Back then, I thought I was ruined. I left the forge for quite some months, unwilling to show my face.”

“But I eventually came back. I couldn’t stay away from my one love in this life. It took years to adjust, and even now things are different. But I have grown since then. My craft is different, the way I approach it has to be different, but it is no less masterful than it was back then.”

Ren was silent as the man showed him what he had brought for him, explanations of his ideas for how he should continue. Some aspects his hands could still bear through, such as the brunt physical aspects. Other aspects that required more fine tuning now with the assistance of metal and wooden attachments to the forearms, allowing for the arms to control the movements rather than the hands while still providing accuracy.

It appeared rather complicated, and Ren was uncomfortable by the way they looked, how they felt as Muyang tightened the prosthetic modifications on his arms.

“This… this isn’t how I did it back then,” Ren quietly said. “I don’t want to be helped like this. I want to do it the way I used to. With my own hands.”

Muyang didn’t give him a look of pity or sorrow. Instead his gaze was understanding and honest. “I know. At first, it can feel like defeat. Like you truly have been altered, like you’ll never be the same. And a part of that is true, Yingxing.”

He lifted up his prosthetics.

“I’m not the same. But these are not proof of defeat. They are proof of my ability as a craftsman. Proof that my passion burns hot enough even now. We are different from others. But we are no lesser.”

Muyang smiled. “Change is inevitable for all. And we must change with it. That is the beauty of life. There is always a path forward, even if it is difficult. And those paths oftentimes require the help of another. There is no shame in it. After all, we both wouldn’t be where we are today without the teachings of our master.”

A fond glance at Huaiyan. “And in turn, we teach, we help those who come to us. That is the cycle of this craft, of our passion.”

He was tired when he came back to the inn, the sort of feeling after having been awake for far too long, stretched out beyond capacity. The rest of the day he spent alongside Huaiyan and that Muyang, and despite them both not treating him like one, he couldn’t help but feel as if he truly were some new apprentice that had never held a hammer before. He hadn’t enjoyed it at all. It had been a blending of shame and frustration.

Yet somewhere hidden away, hope that there was a possibility. But it was minuscule, easily overlooked by the other overwhelming emotions.

Ren bathed first, ever so aware of the still present tension in the room. As he looked down at the shower floor, he could see the familiar way in which soot dripped from his skin, mixing down below into the water before escaping down the drain. He stared blankly at the sight until it was all washed away, turning off the water.

He got into bed soon after that, not bothering to dry his hair fully. It would be a tangled mess in the morning. He gave a sidelong glance to Dan Heng, who was still quietly readying himself for bed. Perhaps in the morning the vidyadhara would take pity on him and help him comb through the knots of hair which were inevitable.

After some time, Dan Heng sat down on the bed, silken hair falling over one side of his shoulders, skin shimmering with the scales that often appeared when the vidyadhara’s emotions were running high.

There was a stretched out moment of silence, words clearly aching between them.

Ren was eyeing the dip following the line of the vidyadhara’s spine when Dan Heng finally spoke, quiet as if not wanting to swim too far down into that pool of water and disrupt the calm.

“I… I wanted to apologize again for yesterday. I thought about it more last night and today. About how it must have felt to have that so suddenly sprung upon you without warning. Back then, I did the same thing to you. Kept secrets and acted in a way I thought was best for you, even though you didn’t wish for it. I’m sorry.”

Dan Heng’s downcast eyes finally lifted, looking up at Ren through a line of long lashes. “I was wrong.”

Their gazes met, warming the space between them.

“It’s okay,” Ren said. “Next time, like you said, just talk to me before. I will listen to you.”

“Mn. I promise,” Dan Heng slowly nodded, and in the dim light of the room he could see the way the vidyadhara’s eyes began to wet.

In the beginning, Dan Feng had been so reserved, unwilling, unable to express his feelings. But the moment Ren had been able to open him, peel back those protective walls, Dan Feng seemed to feel stronger than most. Emotions so deep, like a wave that surrounded the vidyadhara and swallowed him whole.

Dan Heng too had been so hesitant at the beginning, that mask of cold aloofness. And now, memories returned to him, Dan Heng had returned to that state of feeling.

The vidyadhara finally laid down, the space between them on the bed feeling so wide.

“I’m sorry too,” Ren spoke. “For running. I didn’t think of how that would affect you.”

Dan Heng shifted, turning his head to the side so they were facing each other fully. “I suppose we still aren’t perfect.”

“We never were.”

A soft smile upon Dan Heng’s expression.

“Though,” Ren continued. “That’s why I fell in love with you.”

He took a breath, chest tightening. “I went today. To the forge.”

Dan Heng didn’t say anything at first, obviously attempting to tread carefully on the subject.

“How did it feel?”

“I don’t think it’s worth it,” Ren said quietly.

Dan Heng paused before sliding closer to him. He laid a tender hand against Ren’s cheek.

“Why not?”

Ren stared back up at the ceiling, hating this feeling welling up inside of him.

“What if it doesn’t work? What if… I really can’t anymore?”

Perhaps it would be better to not try at all, if the result would just be painful.

“I’m tired of having hope only for things to go wrong,” he said.

Dan Heng took a breath, slowly running his fingers through Ren’s bangs. “For so many years, you thought that I had utterly abandoned you.”

Ren’s chest tightened at his words.

“Your hope was broken. I know… that it hurt. It hurt you so badly. But, now we are together. Now we are reunited. Allow this to be proof for you that there are ways forward, even if we cannot see them at first.”

Dan Heng guided his chin back with two slender fingers so their gazes could meet once again. Ren found himself transfixed in the azure blue of Dan Heng’s eyes.

“Ren. It will be difficult. It will be different. But do not give up hope, especially not in yourself. Don’t give up something you love so dearly, not before at least giving it a chance once more. Trust your master. He knows you. He cares for you. If he truly believed that there was no possibility for you, then he would have told the truth. But he honestly believes there to be a way for you to continue being a craftsman. So, please. Don’t give up. Don’t give up on yourself.”

Ren wavered under the sincerity of Dan Heng’s voice. He was still uncertain, hope like a small fire struggling to stay alight.

“Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll try.”

Dan Heng smiled, opening his arms in invitation for Ren.

Ren made a low noise as he burrowed his face into Dan Heng’s chest, wrapping himself around the smaller man. He closed his eyes as slender fingers ran through his hair, a kiss being pressed at the crown of his head.

“Baobei,” Dan Heng whispered.

“I missed you,” Ren said, muffled against Dan Heng’s chest.

“We’ve only been fighting for a day.”

Ren shook his head. “Felt like longer.”

A tail slithered over their bodies, slipping underneath the hem of Ren’s shirt so it could rest against his skin.

Ren squeezed Dan Heng tighter, not wanting to let go.

The following weeks, he hadn’t created a single work. Instead, he was subjected to relearning the basics but now with these new mechanical prosthetics attached. For the most part he stayed with Muyang and Huaiyan, mimicking and assisting their work. Holding the steel in glowing fire with tongs, hammering the sides of molten metal on the anvil, cooling and sanding. All things that had been like breathing before, and now felt like a foreign language at times.

Admittedly, he struggled less with his trembling hands with the prosthetics in place. But they required far more time than before to handle, creating a heavy fatigue in his arms and chest that he did not remember.

A month into his training, he had finally been assigned by Huaiyan to forge his own blade.

During the shaping process, Ren had completely broken two designs at the top, using too much strength in his arms, still not at home with how much pressure to use now that he wasn’t hammering with his hands.

Cursing, Ren threw his third broken sword on the ground, kicking it off to the side.

He sat down on one of the workbenches, head hanging down as he panted. Sweat dripped down from his brow by his feet, the heat of the forge stifling through his lungs. Ren closed his eyes, feeling the urge to tear the prosthetics off his arms and leave the Zhuming for good. Then he could pretend that this had never happened. That he had never even tried, never had hope for this to work out. Because it wasn’t.

But then he thought again of Dan Heng, of those dreams now which plagued him. Where his reflection, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, always was of that man of the past.

Wiping his forehead with the inside of his wrist, Ren stood back up to grab the small shovel in the corner, the fire burning brighter as he funneled in more coal.

Unfortunately, word eventually got around, at least within the Flamewheel Forge. Thankfully though, no one seemed to overly bother him despite the whispers constantly spreading of the return of Master Huaiyan’s prized disciple, the famed Furnace Master of the High Cloud Quintet. But now he had to deal with the occasional eyes peeking through the windows and doors of his private workspace, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

Some of the eyes always lingered, but it seemed some of the more timid apprentices had given up after being yelled at.

So far he had crafted several swords that hadn’t fallen apart, pitiful things that paled in comparison to even the throwaways he made in the past. Ren had considered tossing them until Dan Heng had reprimanded him, demanding to be allowed to come see them first.

The vidyadhara had smiled fondly at each of the blades, running his fingers over their edges and peering into his reflection across their metal.

“You spoke of these last night as if they were made by some child,” Dan Heng said with a raised brow, swinging the blade two times for good measure. “And yet even these are quite similar to those swords which Yanqing collects.”

“You further insult me,” Ren huffed, grabbing back the sword and putting it back on its rack. Yet he couldn’t help the hint of the smile that arose when Dan Heng brushed his hair to the side to kiss the back of his neck.

A little over a month into their stay at the Zhuming, and subsequently Ren’s time at the Flamewheel Forge, Huaiyan had come in with a guest.

He had mentioned a few days before wanting to introduce his granddaughter, who apparently had a knack for swordsmanship and forging herself. Ren didn’t fail to notice the shining in Huaiyan’s eyes as he spoke about her. And so, begrudgingly, Ren had accepted to meeting her.

The general had come into his workspace late one afternoon while Ren was attempting to fasten a leather hilt to one of the spears he had finished. He looked at it with mild distaste, spinning it around several times to inspect. Not good enough. He would have to find a way to adapt the tightening process with the prosthetics since it was somewhat different than with his hands.

The door opened without any notice, Ren blowing some of the hair out of his face as he set the spear down with an exasperated exhale.

“I could have been busy,” he leered.

Huaiyan simply gave a stout laugh, looking behind himself. “Ah, well you know it’s difficult to wrangle time away from all that paperwork coming from being a general. I really ought to retire, and fully.”

The old man gave a tsk. “Yunli! Down the hall!”

Ren felt rather underdressed, far too much soot smudged against his cheek and neck to be meeting Huaiyan’s granddaughter.

“Do forgive her,” Huaiyan said. “She’s been rather excited to meet you after all, but the girl does get distracted every time she sees a sword.”

“Yunli!” he called again.

Finally, down the stone hallway, the pattering of running feet and the distinct jingling of jewelry and ornamentation. For some reason, the sound of it was distantly familiar.

He was quickly reminded of what as a girl came tumbling into the room, balancing out in the last few steps with a beaming smile stretched across her face.

“Master Yingxing, I-“

Yunli’s animated expression came to a screeching halt. She stared at Ren, then at Huaiyan, then back to Ren.

She soured, crossing her arms. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Clearly,” Ren said with a straight face.

Yunli had an obvious pout, an almost whiny look as she glanced at Huaiyan.

“I thought you said I was meeting Master Yingxing today.”

Huaiyan smiled, eyes like closed crescents as he gestured toward Ren again. “I did. Though, it seems the two of you have met already without me knowing.”

“That’s not him,” Yunli insisted.

Ren scoffed, giving her a mocking glare before picking up his spear again to redo. “Disappointed?”

“You-!”

“Aiya,” Huaiyan chided, giving a needless wave between them. “No fighting.”

Yunli hmphed, bristling up. “There’s no way. This one is a fraud. Just look at the weapons he’s made - those weren’t made by any Flamewheel prodigy.”

Ren could almost feel a vein bursting at his temple from her statement, that sore spot being jammed at so pointedly, and by some child at that.

“Well now you know the truth of the matter. So stop your gawking and go back to playing with your toy swords.”

Huaiyan gave a look of defeat, pinching between his brows. “The two of you… really…”

Ren had thought that would be the last he would have to see of her, given the way she had soon stormed out of the forge, smoke seeming to come from her ears. And Ren had wanted it to stay that way, given her attitude. He didn’t need someone comparing him to that past self, to stories of a man that didn’t exist anymore.

To his muted dismay, she kept coming back. Sitting on his work table and swinging her legs back and forth while she watched him, witnessing the frequent frustrated bursts he would have when things didn’t go right.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” he scowled, eyes narrowing as he dipped a heated sword in oil, already sensing that the center of this one wasn’t durable enough. Next time he wouldn’t flatten it so much. “I thought you were supposed to be some sword hunter, not a leech.”

Yunli frowned, tearing off the corner of the baozi she was eating and throwing it at the side of Ren’s head. He went rigid, irritation rising.

“I find particular interest in your weapons. After all, I should be here considering how much spite you put into them. They’re practically crying out for help.”

Ren’s lips pursed, silent as he continued holding the sword down to cool it. Was that true? Did these weapons now even despise him? He couldn’t help but feel a sense of defeat.

After some silence, Yunli gave an annoyed groan. “I’m just joking. They’re not crying out for help. So stop being so miserable.”

“Then you have no reason to be here,” Ren coldly said. “You clearly were expecting someone different from me. I’m not him, Yingxing. After all this time since I was Huaiyan’s apprentice, did you really think I would be?”

He could feel Yunli’s eyes on his back, but he didn’t turn to face her.

“Grandpa talked about you all the time,” Yunli quietly said. “He always made you out as some comet in the night sky, a short-lived man who defied every expectation and barrier to pave his own path. Grandpa was so excited that you were coming, you have no idea. He talked about you like you were his son coming home.”

“So, yes. I suppose I did hope that you might be different. I see now that I was wrong to do so.”

Ren pulled the sword from the oil, looking at the metal for any imperfections. He thought of the wedding tea ceremony. Of himself and Dan Feng bowing before him, Dan Feng pouring his tea. After the death of his parents, Huaiyan was all he had.

He finally looked back at Yunli and her disappointed expression.

“A lot has changed since then,” he said, calmer this time.

Yunli fidgeted with her hands, hair a bit damp from sweat. Ren still didn’t understand why she stayed here, considering his presence and the constant heat of the forge.

Finally, something clicked.

She really was similar to Yanqing. Internally sighing, he placed his tools down and finally summoned Shard Sword.

“Here.”

Seeing this, Yunli’s eyes brightened with interest. She was already grabbing at its hilt by the time Ren had gotten within proximity.

The weight of it was still far too heavy for her, but she did seem to have more strength than Yanqing did in regards to holding weight.

“I knew this sword seemed familiar when I saw it,” Yunli remarked, tracing her fingers down the golden cracks. She was in a noticeably better mood now. “I’ve read about it so much, from so many stories about the former Luofu Swords Master and Flamewheel Forge legendary tales.”

It was strange, to have another ogle and admire this sword so dearly, while to him it represented suffering within his own life.

“I just can’t fathom how you did this, you made such a masterpiece.”

Ren rolled his eyes. “Now you decide to dish your compliments out.”

Yunli glared at him for a quick moment before turning back to Shard Sword. “It has to be your favorite, right?”

“No. Shard Sword was likely the most masterful creation of mine, mainly from swordsmithing being my expertise. But the one closest to me has always been Cloud-Piercer.”

How beloved it was to him, even centuries ago when he had crafted it. Watching it under the moonlight for the first time, and even now, in Dan Heng’s hands.

“Eh, I guess,” Yunli shrugged. “It’s pretty nice. But I like Shard Sword better.”

Ren flicked her in the forehead, the girl flinching before gaping at him.

“Hey!”

“Shut up. You don’t know anything about craftsmanship. You’re just a child.”

“I’m older than you think!”

Ren gave her a pointed look. “Then you’re not mature enough. Better?”

“You’re the one always throwing fits,” Yunli argued.

“Because you won’t leave me alone.”

Yunli huffed, sliding off of the table and to the ground. She handed Shard Sword back to Ren. “Whatever. Now can I have a sword?”

Ren slowly blinked at her, expression not changing.

“No.”

“Why not?”

I can’t make one yet that I’m proud of.

“You don’t deserve one. All you’ve done is bother me.”

“I’ll stop bothering you once I get a sword crafted by you. I’ve tried for years to get my hands on one- but they’re all coveted.”

“Why do you care so much?”

Yunli’s shoulders were bunched up, making her look even smaller despite her attempts to look taller. “Because you’re Master Yingxing. And I don’t care what stupid complaints you have about that. I’ve dreamed about wielding one of your swords for so long, and especially one personalized.”

She glanced to the side. “And there’s someone I want to best. We’re even right now.”

Ren gave her a look. So that was the reason.

Finally, he gave her some of the truth.

“I can’t make you one right now. I don’t know if I ever will. So stop getting your expectations and hopes up for nothing. It’s pointless.”

She stared at him, and Ren wondered if she would finally understand what he was trying to say. Obviously she knew the state of his hands.

“Okay. Then just give me Shard Sword,” she bluntly said, holding out her hand.

Ren could feel a headache coming on.

“No. Now go away.”

“Then make me a sword like it!”

“Did you not just hear what I said?” Ren said in almost disbelief. “ I can’t.”

“Sounds like you just need to try harder.”

Yunli barely dodged the leather gloves he flung at her, her laughter echoing as she finally scampered out of the room.

Two months into their stay at the Zhuming, Dan Heng had gotten a call from the Express about their next expedition.

The vidyadhara had been hesitant, torn between the desire to return to the rest of the Nameless for their next mission and staying with Ren.

Ren eventually had to make his choice easier for him, not wanting Dan Heng to have to wait idly as Ren continued on here, unable to see the rest of his family.

In the time he was gone, Ren would be staying at Master Huaiyan’s estate as he did as a growing teenager, though it meant he would be stuck with Yunli for even more time. Ren wasn’t sure that was even possible though, considering how much the girl trailed him nowadays.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” Dan Heng asked with worry, brushing back Ren’s bangs from his face, having to angle his neck back and stand just on his toes to do so. The sight of it made Ren’s chest warm, reminding him to take Dan Heng one last time before the vidyadhara departed.

“Mn. I’ll be okay,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle against Dan Heng’s neck. The vidyadhara laughed softly as Ren grabbed around his waist, guiding them to fall sideways on their bed. “Don’t forget about me.”

“I won’t,” Dan Heng said, squeezing his arm.

Then another. And another.

“You’ve gained muscle,” the vidyadhara noted.

It was likely from the amount of strength he now had to use in his arms in place of his hands. Ren opened one of his eyes, noticing how Dan Heng was still petting along his bicep.

Ren gave a silent, satisfied smile. “Baobei. Should we head to the docks to wait for the Express to come for you-“

Dan Heng cut off his words with a kiss, wrapping his arms around Ren to roll them over, willinging trapping himself underneath.

“No,” Dan Heng said plainly, fingers tracing along the muscles of Ren’s abdomen. “We have a little more time.”

“You’re sure? It takes some time to clean you,” Ren noted as Dan Heng pressed wet, syrupy kisses against his throat.

Dan Heng glared at him for a second, ears fluttering. “Then pull out. Just come in my mouth instead.”

Ren grabbed Dan Heng’s wrists, pinning them up above his head before kissing him deeply, feeling the searing press of tongues.

It had made Dan Heng just a bit late, having to make sure his neck was covered up before he left.

Before, when he and Dan Heng had to part ways like this, Ren had hated it. A part of him despised Dan Heng being a Nameless, always being called away. He always wanted to keep the vidyadhara by his side.

But now, there was a shift. He did miss Dan Heng. He wanted him there. But he also wanted Dan Heng to have his own desires, his own friends and family.

And perhaps, just perhaps, Ren could be okay as well. After all, Dan Heng would come back. He knew that now.

And so time went on, weeks passing by as Ren stayed at the Flamewheel Forge. He half expected to receive a script to come back to the Stellaron Hunters, just as Dan Heng had.

But when he had called Elio once, all he had gotten was the following.

“Stay there. Enjoy yourself. That’s all for now.”

Rather cryptic, which Firefly had agreed with as well through video call with the rest of their group a week later.

But it gave Ren the assurance that he could put his time and focus here. Though, he still had to put up with the distraction of Yunli coming into his workspace every couple of days to watch and talk his ear off about cursed swords. That didn’t include the fact that he now also lived just a hallway down from her, and thus also shared several meals a week with her and Huaiyan when they were all home.

“Grandpa, does he really have to stay with us? Two months is far too long,” Yunli suddenly complained one night, looking sullenly down at her food.

Huaiyan smiled, one of those that had a double meaning to it. “He’s a good boy, Yunli. The two of you should try to get along more.”

Ren glanced between them, curious but not wanting to bother inquiring. Huaiyan gave him the answer before too long.

“I heard you’ve met General Jing Yuan’s boy, Yingxing,” he said. “Similar age to Yunli here.”

Wonderful. Another teenager to wrangle.

Ren split open an eggplant with his chopsticks a little harshly. “Yanqing.”

“You met him?” Yunli questioned, interest piqued. “What did you think about him?”

“Talented. But needs to grow if he wants to best me in a fight.”

Yunli perked up. “You fought with him?”

“Mn.”

“Then spar with me right now!”

Ren shoveled the last few bites of food into his mouth, pushing back his chair to stand up. “I’m going to sleep now.”

“Hey!”

Yanqing’s arrival had been anything but quiet or peaceful. He apparently was coming for diplomacy reasons between the Zhuming and Luofu, Jing Yuan sending him over so he could gain the experience.

How many sleepless nights had he had by now? It seemed the two of them would spar every night after getting into some childish spat, jumping across the roofs of Huaiyan’s estate and causing shingles to crash on the ground. After multiple nights of uselessly coming outside and telling them to shut up, Ren had given up.

Worse than that, now he had to put up with both of them lingering around his forge and pestering him with questions and requests for a sword.

“For the last time, no, ” he snapped, not looking up from the automation he had been working on. Recently he had taken on a few mechanic projects alongside his smithing, a past time he had enjoyed back in the day. It required almost the entire use of his prosthetics, which he had now become accustomed to over the months.

This one was a small robot that resembled a hand sized beetle, the main purpose being to collect information from afar. He supposed that Silver Wolf would like it, making a mental note to color it accordingly.

The two of them still stuck around though, flowing between meaningful conversation about swordplay and teaching styles before arguing, and then repeating that cycle over and over again.

Ren didn’t pay them much mind at this point unless they intentionally seemed to be bothering him, though he did find himself occasionally listening in to their conversations.

“Do you think March is keeping up her training?” Yanqing asked, sharpening one of his swords. “We haven’t seen her in a while.”

Yunli hummed, laying back on the work table and certainly crushing some of the blueprint papers Ren had placed there. “Hopefully. Caelus said she had been using her swords almost as frequently as her bow now. Though hopefully she’s actually using it correctly. Maybe we should have been more strict during our trainings.”

“Was General Huaiyan strict when he trained you?”

Yunli shrugged. “Sometimes. I had other masters as well. Typically though they didn’t need to be since I was there willingly. What about General Jing Yuan?”

“He always was more inclined to guidance than discipline. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I heard that his master was harsh on him, so that might be why.”

Ren finally joined the conversation. “The Swords Master was. Jing Yuan gave the impression of a bullied child, despite his attempts to appear otherwise. He had always wanted Dan Heng to be his master instead.”

The two of them stared at him for a moment, as if stunned that he actually talked on his own initiative for once.

“What was the General like back then?” Yanqing asked. “He was older than I was at the time, wasn’t he?”

“Mn. Just a bit. Though he started growing into an adult by the time I was older.”

Before I became like this.

“He was similar to you.”

It was undeniable the way Yanqing flushed with a mixture of pride and happiness.

“Meaning that you were both insufferable and constantly bothering me.”

“You take that back!” Yanqing flustered, standing up as Yunli snorted a laugh.

It took some time for Yanqing to settle down after that, but eventually he did. They continued asking him about the Quintet and those past years of legend, although clearly avoiding any conversation about its dissolution and the end fates of each member. And so, Ren answered, despite thinking he never would. Before, these were things he would only share with Dan Heng, and perhaps Kafka given. But for some reason, today, he didn’t mind their questions as much.

Time was lost in conversation, Ren unaware of how the moon had come into full bloom in the night sky. It wasn’t until much later, when Ren was just finishing up the final cogs and gears on the mechanism, that he realized the two of them hadn’t spoken in some time.

He looked up from his table, seeing the two of them slumped against the wall beside each other. Yunli’s head was resting on Yanqing’s shoulder, likely unintentional given her stubborn nature. They both were asleep, breathing deeply with relaxed expressions.

Ren looked at them for a while longer before exhaling, taking off his smock and prosthetics for the night.

Carefully, he picked the two of them up. They made a few mumbles but remained unconscious. He held a limp Yunli in his arms and Yanqing on his back as he brought them out of the forge and back to the estate.

Perhaps, in a way, they were similar to him as well when he was a teenager. Though of course, they weren’t exactly teenagers in age, just in maturity and physique.

He managed to get them both into their own bedrooms without causing too much of a stir. They’d probably wake up at some point considering they were still in their day clothes, but for now they could sleep.

Ren did at least pull Yunli’s crown piece from her hair as he settled her down into her bed, placing it next to her bedside table. As he was about to leave, smaller fingers grasped around his wrist.

He glanced at Yunli, her eyes just barely open, likely in a state of between dream and reality.

“Good night,” she murmured before closing her eyes again.

Ren stood there for a moment, watching her pass back into sleep. He pulled the blankets further up onto her shoulders before going to his own room.

Yanqing went back to the Luofu after his two months had come to a finish, although apparently he would have to come back in a few months for another political affair on behalf of Jing Yuan.

Ren had seen him off with Yunli, not entirely sure why he was there though. During the farewell, however, he got the inkling sense that despite Yunli’s blunt words and stubborn refusal to give him a warm goodbye, that the girl had been somewhat downcast.

He hadn’t thought much of it until later that week, when Yunli was as usual loitering around his forge space and complaining about the other boy.

Ren was currently heating a blade that a fellow craftsman in the forge had commissioned for his daughter, a special request that Ren had somehow accepted after enough prodding.

“What do you think about him, as a person?” Ren asked.

“He’s alright overall,” Yunli huffed, blowing at a strand of hair falling in her face. “Still annoying though.”

Ren stared into the fire, still sitting there with his chin resting in his hand. He spoke in a bland voice.

“You like him, don’t you?”

Yunli immediately flustered, even stomping her foot down.

“No I don’t!”

That much was an answer to that question. He gave her a sidelong glance. “All you do is talk about him.”

“Only because I’m forced to see him! Grandpa and that lazy General keep making us meet.”

Ren rubbed at his temple, closing his eyes. “So what? That means you have to talk about him every time he’s gone too?”

He sighed in exasperation, motioning to the floor with a pointed nod of the head. “Just sit down.”

She glared at him, shoulders high, before finally sitting down with crossed legs.

Ren felt far too old for this, but didn’t exactly feel like having her talk his ear off about someone she couldn’t even admit to liking. He poked at the embers again with the iron rod, sparks popping. “Listen. You keep saying that he annoys you. But then turn around and mention how he’s the only other person who has the same passion for swords that you do, that he’s the only one worthwhile having a duel with. Then to cover all that up, you complain about him again.”

Ren glanced at her, finding her to appear younger than usual, cheeks pouting out. “Have you ever considered that you may have feelings for him?”

He could tell she was embarrassed, face pink and holding herself far too straight.

“No,” she finally said. “All we do is fight.”

“Bantering is different from fighting. If you were truly fighting, you wouldn’t want to see him again.”

Yunli frowned, not looking overly pleased with this information. “Well… what about you?”

Ren pulled his shirt up slightly to wipe away the sweat beading at his brow. “What about me?”

“You and Master Dan Heng. How did you know you liked him?”

Ren blinked slowly, expression still blank. “I knew as soon as I laid eyes upon him.”

“Well that doesn’t help me!” Yunli bristled.

“No. Not really,” Ren admitted in agreement. “But I can tell you how I tried to show it. I got his attention in any way I could. Whether that be through impressing him or annoying him. Whatever it took.”

He set down the iron rod, settling down to rest his elbows on his knees. “Listen. When you’re young, that’s what you do. You want them to look at you, listen to you, think about you. Maybe he did annoy you at first, but now you both aren’t arguing to fight, but to get the other’s attention. It’s not the best way to go about things, but everyone seems to do it at some point.”

Yunli scratched behind her ear, conflicted. “So… what do I do?”

“Just tell him.”

Her expression soured, as if having swallowed something distasteful. “Ugh. Why does it have to be me?”

“He doesn’t seem as if he would be that smart when it comes to these sorts of things,” Ren plainly stated. Thinking about the teenager, Yanqing probably didn’t even know liking another person was even a possibility for himself.

“Well… I can agree with that,” Yunli said, looking down to hide the small smile on her face.

Time passed naturally, and soon enough Ren had become accustomed to the forge, to his mechanical prosthetics and the adjusted ways in which he had to craft now. Things were different, and that was that. The frustration and bitterness toward his tremoring hands that had festered like a disease in him had calmed, resting away.

And so, months went on.

Until eventually he received a text from Dan Heng of his impending arrival back to the Zhuming.

That day, Ren gave a knock at Yunli’s door, waiting for her response before coming inside.

It seemed she had just woken up, hair undone and sticking up at odd angles, face a bit pale and colorless from having been asleep. Sunshine poured in through the open window, the red silk curtains there whisping about like ribbons from the breeze pushing in. She yawned, giving him a look.

“What do you want this early? Master Dan Heng is coming back today, isn’t he?”

“Mn,” Ren affirmed. He held out the hairpin that Dan Heng had given to him at the Qixi festival. “Help me put this in.”

“Hah?” she barked at him, then grinning in satisfaction as she slid off the bed and onto her feet. “So, the arrogant and moody Yingxing finally asks for my help.”

He glowered, though still sitting down in the wooden chair she beckoned him to.

“I’m honored, truly.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, handing her the lotus flower pin as she stood behind him. He could still see her smiling in the mirror sitting on the vanity.

“Trying to impress him?” she asked, beginning to pull and section out his locks of hair. “Yanqing told me the two of you are grossly into each other.”

Ren decided to ignore that last part, considering what Yanqing admittedly had to endure that one New Year’s Eve at Jing Yuan’s estate.

“It’s been several months since I last saw him,” he said. “I’ve missed him.”

“That’s true,” Yunli said. “Though you’ve been doing better than I thought you would. I half expected you to run away to him after a week.”

Ren gave her a pointed glare through the mirror.

“But you were surprisingly okay. It was a long five months, but you lasted on your own.”

She hummed to herself, as if thinking something over.

“Well, at least that’s proof you can handle yourself alone. I know you want to see him, probably the entire time you did,” she said before pausing. Then, she spoke softer, slowly sliding that pin into place.

“But… you also seemed happy these past few months. I think that’s good. Being able to love someone so deeply, but also be your own person. Doesn’t that make for a stronger connection?”

Ren had missed him. Every day he thought of Dan Heng. The vidyadhara gave him endless contentment. Happiness.

A small part of him realized, however, that perhaps Yunli was correct. Despite their separation, Ren had been able to find purpose on his own. He had been able to light those fires of passion, to feel something.

Had that always been the case? Had he truly been capable of this, just unable to see it before? He thought of Kafka, Silver Wolf, Firefly. These bonds that he had created on his own. And now, perhaps two more.

His heart beat, blood pulsing with strength.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he quietly said.

Later that afternoon, Ren stood by the arrival gates, anticipation bubbling underneath his skin. He watched carefully as group after group came through, looking through each person to see if they were Dan Heng.

Perhaps a few months ago he would have barged through the gates to the dismay of the guards there, but this time he felt like behaving for the vidyadhara, being on his best manners. So he stood there patiently despite the feelings welling up in his chest, almost unbearable to handle.

Finally, his eyes caught onto a pair of horns. He straightened out, taking a breath as he watched Dan Heng step out of the gate. The vidyadhara was calmly looking from side to side, most likely searching for him as well. Half of his hair was braided up into a bun held into place with a silver hair ornament, the other half cascading over his shoulders elegantly. He wasn’t wearing his usual travel coat, instead adorning a white and azure hanfu that fit the weather well.

Finally their eyes met, and even from that distance Ren could see Dan Heng’s smile blossoming. A step forward, then another, becoming quicker and quicker before they were finally close.

Uncaring of anyone else, Ren lifted Dan Heng into his arms, holding him by his hips and spinning him around once. He closed his eyes, softening as he heard Dan Heng laugh.

As they came back down, Dan Heng finally kissed him, five months in the waiting.

Ren pressed three more kisses against the corner of his lips and cheek, wishing they weren’t surrounded by so many people, but bearing with it regardless.

“I missed you,” Ren said.

“Me too,” Dan Heng replied, brushing his fingers over Ren’s face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call that last week. It was a bit hectic with the stellaron.”

“It’s okay,” Ren said, squeezing Dan Heng’s hip. “You’re here now.”

He remembered what he had brought, reaching behind to pull from one of his coat pockets a small box.

“For you.”

Dan Heng gave a curious smile as he took the box. “For me?”

“I wanted to gift something of my own craft after the Qixi festival,” he briefly explained as Dan Heng opened the wooden lid.

His heart thumped as Dan Heng’s eyes widened in surprise, the vidyadhara’s gaze softening as he realized what it was.

Two white jade rings to be worn on his azure horns.

Dan Heng smiled with an inhale, looking back up at Ren. “They’re beautiful. And to be crafted by you…”

Contentment washed through Ren’s body, finally being able to gift Dan Heng something of worth, something he felt was beautiful enough of the vidyadhara to be worn.

“Help me put them on?”

And so Ren helped place them onto Dan Heng’s horns, the shaping perfect and the color a splendid contrast. Just as Dan Heng had done for him, Ren took a picture for him to see.

Dan Heng touched at the rings with his fingers as he looked at the photo. Then, a soft kiss against Ren’s cheek.

“Thank you, Ren.”

The two of them walked together back to Huaiyan’s estate, Ren’s body buzzing from their proximity. Dan Heng looked beautiful as always, but especially so with the rings now glistening under the sun.

“It seems you have been doing well,” Dan Heng commented, pulling a stray plum blossom which had fallen into Ren’s hair with two slender fingers.

Ren simply nodded, wanting to hold Dan Heng’s hand. “I have been.”

Dan Heng’s eyes widened for a moment, lips parted, searching Ren’s expression.

The vidyadhara seemed to relax, relief and satisfaction seeping from his smile. “That’s good.”

Finally, their hands came together as they continued walking along the path.

“You’ve certainly had quite a number of commissions lately,” Huaiyan noted one day, walking into Ren’s forge and looking over his work. “Seems word has been getting out that a Master has returned to the Flamewheel Forge.”

“And I suppose you’ve had to keep my identity concealed to avoid the IPC,” Ren responded, fiddling with the carving on the side of a blade he was completing.

Huaiyan gave a laugh to that, nodding his head. “That much is true, but I came to speak of other matters. You’ve been doing well. I expected you to, as my most talented apprentice. You learn fast, even though I know you were hesitant at first.”

Ren gave a smile, raising a brow. “What? Are you wanting to commission me now?”

Huaiyan looked up at him, gaze gentle yet firm. “It’s time for you to make something of your own. A craft of your heart, your passion. You’re ready now.”

Ren’s smile faded slowly. He had avoided it until now. In these months, he had been able to make weapons and crafts that he felt worthy enough to give to others, but never one of true masterful worth. Nothing that resembled the Quintet legends. He hadn’t tried to.

Because even if he had been able to become a swordsmith, a craftsman again… he wasn’t Yingxing. He wasn’t the man who could weave metal like thread, breathe in the fire of the forge and create life within it.

“I can’t,” he said quietly.

“You can.”

Huaiyan stepped closer. “This isn’t just about the art of crafting, is it? It’s much more than that. This is about you. Your life. Your death.”

Ren looked down, feeling barren and vulnerable.

“Listen to me, Yingxing. Listen to my words.”

Huaiyan grabbed his hand, holding it as tightly as he could.

“Life is meaningless without death, but so too is death meaningless without life. You must accept that you are alive. Perhaps you have rediscovered your love for Dan Heng, but what of yourself?”

Ren closed his eyes. He knew this. He knew this. And yet the fear was still there.

“If you wish to find true relief, a true end through your death, then you must find closure in your life first. And for you, that is to cast away this suffering, this loathing, this name of Ren which shackles you.”

Huaiyan squeezed his hand one last time.

“Only then will you be ready to die.”

Late into that night, Ren sat alone by the fire. It cast light onto the walls, shadows creeping upon them. And yet it was comforting to be beside the sweltering warmth. It flickered about, Ren watching the licking of the flame.

Seven hundred years.

Those years endless and yet also a blur. The cutting of flesh, of bone, of spirit.

He looked down at Shard Sword. The hilt lay disattached, now only the blade within his hands.

For so long this had been his identity.

Ren. Blade.

Suffering, loathing, hatred.

The inability to look at his own reflection, to see into himself. For all he saw was pain and loss.

Clouds parting, eyes opening.

There was more.

Ren stood up, holding Shard Sword one last time. Peering down into its blade, at his own face.

All things came to an end.

Heart steady, he placed Shard Sword into the crucible, engulfing it into the flames of the furnace.

He watched as the cracks glowed in golden embers, reacting strongly to the fire which now embraced it.

It would take weeks for it to fully melt, he knew this. And so Ren stayed by the fire, pressing more air inside to feed those flames.

In the time that it would take to complete the swords, Ren had requested that no one, except for Huaiyan and Dan Heng, be allowed to enter his forge. Yunli had been rather affronted until Ren had promised to spar with her afterwards as an exchange.

Ren spent his every waking moment in the forge keeping that fire as hot as it could be, the air suffocating and brittle. His heart burned with that same fire, powering his muscles and bones to continue on as Shard Sword slowly but surely began to melt.

It wasn’t until its metal had almost completely melted that Ren felt the first tinges of fatigue, and even then he had pushed through it until Huaiyan had come early one morning.

He had carried in a thin cot, placing it by one of the walls and herding Ren toward it.

“Come now, just a few hours to get your strength back. Your labor has just begun,” Huaiyan had said. “Sleep. And I will tend to your fire.”

Blearily, Ren had accepted the offer, finally laying down and allowing his sore body a moment to rest before the true test began. As he was closing his eyes, he saw Huaiyan by the flames, feeding them until they were bright and glowing with heat.

And as he faded into sleep, he felt a wrinkled palm press up against his forehead.

"It is good to have you back, my child."

In the past, Ren would work himself to the bone, uncaring of the aches of hunger and the need for fresh air. It was interesting, to fall back into similar habits, to feel the weight of labor and physicality.

The most he went out was to the rest of the Flamewheel Forge, occasionally if he required a different tool than in his own. One particular afternoon, when needing a slightly thicker set of tongs, he noticed that a crowd of craftsmen were bundled up, ogling over something, or someone.

As Ren came closer, he realized why the sudden buzz of attention.

Dan Heng was there handing out a few baskets of treats from the neighboring street vendors, pristine and elegant as usual with his high elder features. Their gazes caught, Ren watching the telltale sign of Dan Heng’s eyes brightening.

It was known well enough now of their relationship given that the vidyadhara came often enough to visit him, though Ren supposed the other was gaining a few more bonus points by bringing gifts.

He parted his way through the crowd, the others stepping back some to let him through.

“For you,” Dan Heng said, handing him a box wrapped around in blue cotton fabric. “Make sure to eat. I know how you are.”

Ren hummed in agreement as Dan Heng leaned up to kiss his cheek, regardless of all the smoke and dirt on his face.

As the vidyadhara came back down, Ren noticed the lingering blush across his face and ears. Fingers that stayed for just a little too long on his chest.

Most of Ren’s hair was tied back up into a bun, and he was lacking a shirt now that he was on a short break. He likely looked similar to how he did as a younger man. A distinct flash of an early memory, of the first time Dan Heng had come into his forge.

And just like back then, despite Dan Heng’s controlled expression, Ren could see the discrete signs of desire in his ears and tail.

He gave a sly smile, squeezing Dan Heng’s waist once for good measure as he bowed his head in thanks.

“Of course.”

The two of them walked together back to his personal workspace, and Ren thought he might have heard some whispers as they left the room.

" Ugh, lucky ."

Closing the door and locking it behind them, Ren quickly pushed Dan Heng down onto the table, uncaring of the way a few things fell off the side.

Dan Heng’s pupils were dilated, scales flaring up on the sides of his neck.

It was a whirlwind, the seat of his bench left broken and both of their bodies smudged in soot and dust from the amount of rolling about.

He was panting, eyes tightly shut as Dan Heng continued to ride him. He had already filled the vidyadhara once from behind, once embracing against the wall. But it seemed Dan Heng didn’t want to stop there, rocking his hips atop him without any hesitation, swallowing him into that tight heat.

“It’s okay,” Dan Heng whispered against his throat. “Just let me take care of you.”

Ren’s breaths were punched out, unsure of if he could really take a third time. But that familiar bundle of nerves tightened once again as Dan Heng continued to take him in deeper, clenching around his length with a lewd smile.

“Dan Heng…”

The vidyadhara kissed his neck before biting down with sharpened fangs. Ren hissed, his grip on Dan Heng’s thighs tightening as he felt a few drops of blood ooze out, the vidyadhara suckling at it with a moan and bruising the skin there even darker.

Dan Heng had always had a territorial streak to him, despite his more innocent face. It was even more pronounced in moments like these, when his vidyadhara features came out fully.

Afterwards, the vidyadhara stayed for longer and into the night, eyelids shifting open and closed in a syrupy manner as he sat on the cot while Ren began to reshape the metal.

The figure of the sword mattered the most, the distribution of weight essential to glide through air, flesh, and to hold its shape against the crash of metal.

His eyes burned brightly as he split the waxy metal into two pieces, one larger and one smaller. He had never attempted something of the sort, swords that were not quite twins, but rather counterparts.

All of his legends, those which had been given names now recorded in history, had been crafted with a master in mind. Molded to the user, etched out to match their martial art and personality. This time was no different.

It took far longer than it would have in the past, but the intensified focus Ren had to commit allowed him more time to consider each and every line of the swords, understanding them to their core.

A two-handed longsword and a jian. One designed for wide, billowing swings to execuniate strength and durability, the other for agility and accuracy. Their metal shone in golden streaks as Ren shaped them down, hammering their sides and flattening them down.

In the time being, Dan Heng would cool him with a fan, wiping away his sweat as the swords had to be reheated once again to normalize their steel. Over and over again, heating and cooling to bring these swords together.

On one of the nights he had finally needed to sleep for several hours, he awoke to Huaiyan and Dan Heng by the fire, the older showing the vidyadhara how to funnel coal and air into the flames.

“Did you ever try your hand at forging?” Huaiyan asked.

“I did,” Dan Heng said, wiping the sweat off his brow. “I was rather miserable at it. Though it gave Ren quite the laugh.”

Huaiyan spoke in a quiet voice, to the point where Ren could hardly hear him.

“The two of you are good for each other. Even back then, you were.”

Dan Heng was silent for a moment, then a soft laugh. “You’d be in the minority for saying so. There were so many who said despite our love, that we were bad for one another. Given everything that happened.”

“Happiness does not come for free,” Huaiyan spoke. “It is not handed to us without sacrifice. Love does not exist without grief. And the two of you learned that cycle because of each other.”

“Life is defined by the nature of change,” Dan Heng said, Ren watching as the fire’s light haloed around his figure.

Change.

Ren closed his eyes, settling back down for another hour of sleep before taking the reins once more. Change hadn’t always been kind. So many times it had been cruel.

But perhaps it could bring beauty.

The steel hilts for each of the swords required carving and engraving upon their golden crests. It took almost a week for each of them given the detail needed and the exertion it caused upon Ren’s arms. A crimson fenghuang on the longsword and a misty blue crane on the jian. Placed side by side, the two birds seemed to be circling each other in a dance.

Each had a tassel attached to the pommel, a plate long knot on both.

The edges were sharpened until even their swings echoed through the air. Dan Heng had offered him four of his scales to test their sharpness, harder than diamonds. All of them had shattered cleanly underneath the blades, a perfect cut.

Finally, after months of labor, of dedication, Ren held two swords.

Colors, shapes and engravings all in complimentary order. Taoist swords of yin yang, meant for two masters. One would glow in the sunlight, and the other in moonlight.

He had finished them alone, and now stood before them. Gently, he touched their blades, feeling their pleasant hum and desire to be possessed.

In the end, Shard Sword had been changed too. Its metal, its loathing, all of it burned brightly until it burst like a dying star. And then reshaped, given new life and meaning.

Ren held them both, this time with his bare hands. They still shook. And yet the swords had been finished.

A quiet smile.

These hands were not the same, they never would be again. But he did not harbor the hatred he once had for them anymore.

Huaiyan had been the first he had called upon, requesting an audience at one of the finer rooms of the estate. The older man had sat upon a red oak ta platform, Ren kneeling before him and presenting the two swords.

Outside, two swallows flew by, the limbs of the garden trees shifting from a breeze coming through. Windchimes sang softly as Huaiyan took the swords from him.

At first, nothing was said.

Ren raised his head.

“What do you think?”

Did I… make you proud?

Those swords the product of his passion, his beating heart which kept him alive.

Huaiyan gently smiled, lines creasing around his eyes as he looked warmly upon Ren. He reached across, patting his old hand on the crown of Ren's head.

"Mn. You did well, Yingxing."

Ren stared at him, heart pulsing. A warm, soft feeling slowly spreading through his body. He nodded with a shaky exhale, feeling just as he did when he was standing here as a young boy.

In utter awe.

"Thank you, Master.”

“Yingxing!” Yunli shouted in excitement, running across the courtyard once she saw him. Yanqing had been standing alongside her, following along.

It had been rather convenient timing that the boy had come back to the Zhuming at the same moment Ren had finished these.

Ren, Huaiyan, and Dan Heng all stood at the head of the outer courtyard, smiling as the two teenagers came running up.

Ren was holding the two swords in one his arms, the two of them wrapped in leather pelts and hidden away. He put his hand down on Yunli’s head before she nearly ran into him in her excitement to see him again.

“Slow down,” he smiled, patting her hair a few times.

“You owe us a spar now that you’re out,” she said, eyes shining. “You’ve been locked away in that forge for so long.”

He raised a brow. “I only remember promising to spar with you.”

“You have to do us both,” Yanqing butted in, raising his chin. “That way you can say who is better right now.”

Huaiyan sighed as Dan Heng gave a soft laugh. “Will you two ever let that up?”

Ren decided to ignore it, his expression shifting into one of more seriousness.

“Yunli. Yanqing. Stand straight. I have something for you both.”

The two of them exchanged a quick glance at each other, but ended up straightening out and looking more akin to the sword masters they truly were.

The atmosphere feeling more appropriate to the moment, Ren nodded once.

“You both have taken interest in Shard Sword before. But that blade was not crafted for either of you. That master is far gone. I have been wielding it in her place for all this time, but it did not truly belong to me either. And so, just as the master has departed, so too did Shard Sword need to be put to rest. I have allowed it to be swallowed in flame.”

Yunli and Yanqing’s eyes widened in silence.

Ren gazed at the two of them.

“And I have breathed new life into that metal, birthing two swords that now seek their masters. I have crafted these with your images, your swordplay, your hearts hammered within.”

He lifted the first sword, unraveling it and passing it to Yunli.

“Guang, the longsword of light. Its blade resonates with the sun and will spark fires that shall not dissipate until you will it.”

Yunli stared at the longsword in awe, that usual childlike wonder now replaced with a growing understanding of what this sword was, the two resonating with each other as the sword began to speak to her.

Ren unraveled its counterpart, placing it into Yanqing’s hands.

“Yinying, the jian of shadow. Enabled by the moon, its edge can cut through shadow and conceal your form as long as night is cast.”

The two swords found their home, the metal whispering. It seemed that they had both accepted their masters. And so too had the master accepted the sword.

Expression wavering and eyes beginning to water, Yanqing held the jian tightly and bowed as deeply as he could.

“Thank you, Master!”

Yunli was next, voice trembling as she thanked him too.

Ren exhaled, feeling like a weight had finally been freed from his heart. Waves in the water calming, dual reflections coming together to show one face.

He waved his hand to bring them back up.

“These are not twin swords, but still two parts of a whole. You will find them to be at their finest when they fight side by side.”

With a nod of the head toward the courtyard, he gave them the signal to go ahead. “Unfortunately I’ll have to break my promise for now on sparring, as I have no sword. But the two of you have a pair waiting for their first taste of combat.”

They blinked at him before biting back smiles.

“Yes, Master!” they said in unison, running off to the center of the courtyard, pushing each other's shoulders as they babbled on in excitement.

While those two continued to run about, the other three of them sat down to watch.

It was a beautiful note of music, the first clash of metal meeting. He could feel the way Dan Heng took in a breath, Huaiyan’s smile.

These were creations worthy of the Quintet, of a time once thought lost, and now reclaimed.

“You truly are my pride,” Huaiyan said, shoulders relaxing as he exhaled, looking out with admiration at those two swords finding home in their new wielders.

The older man looked up at Ren, the lines of his face showing every aspect of his heart as he smiled. “Your legacy will forever live within me, within all the lives you have touched.”

His smaller palm pressed against Ren’s chest, right where the dragon heart was. “And it shall live within you, Yingxing.”

That night, Ren and Dan Heng returned to the lakeside in which the Qixi festival had taken place. Once again they sat down upon the smooth, flattened rock there, looking up at the starlight.

“What do you think I should do now?” Ren asked.

Dan Heng turned to face him. “What do you want?”

Ren looked down. “I don’t know. But… I wish to continue this. Perhaps not here necessarily, but somewhere.”

The vidyadhara smiled, as if he had expected that answer. “Then I will be with you. Always.”

Ren glanced back up at the lake. Dragonflies danced over the water, a pleasant hum of crickets through the air.

“For so many years, I saw myself and only saw the space between life and death. The edge of a blade, never truly here.”

“You are not a weapon,” Dan Heng said, cupping his cheek with a warm hand. “You are alive . You always have been.”

Ren’s eyes burned, vision blurring. He remembered the scorching pain of metal cutting him apart, the blistering cold as he dragged his broken body away from the mountainside Jingliu had tortured him upon. Mara and the contorting venom it poisoned him with, every regret, his tears, his loathing.

His eyes widened though as a gentle pulse came from his chest. His parents and sister walking together under an afternoon sun, his father carrying him on his shoulders. The pleasant ache of the body, smiling as he wiped away his sweat when Master Huaiyan had given him the first nod of approval as an apprentice. Jing Yuan’s awestruck expression when he held that glaive for the first time, Baiheng hugging him afterwards and squeezing his hands. Waking up past the blood and the suffering to find Kafka there, brushing his hair from his eyes. Silver Wolf sitting in his room at night even if in silence, isolation broken. The first time Firefly had watched him resurrect, tears falling down her cheeks as she embraced him tightly.

Yunli and Yanqing crowding his forge with banter and conversation, the light in their eyes as his creations finally came into their hands.

His love.

Eyes focusing, chest constricting as the High Elder of the Luofu had come into the weapons hall all those years ago. The first time their eyes had met. Learning his intricacies, his laughter, his anger, his grief. When Dan Feng had laid down before him, trembling with repressed desire as Ren took him for the first time.

Dan Heng embracing him silently at night, the shared whispers, the revelation as memories were finally returned to them. Their lives, their memories circling each other despite the pain, despite everything. Reunion of lovers destined to come together and find their ending.

Finally, himself. It was the eve of his sixtieth birthday. His hair silver, his age a gift. Alone he sat on an outlook on one of the mountains close to Dan Feng’s estate. The sun was rising over the Luofu, bringing warm, golden light that shone upon his skin. He had closed his eyes with a smile, breathing in and out. How beautiful it was, to be alive. How blessed he was.

He blinked out tears, pressing his face closer to Dan Heng’s hand. It had been so long since he could say these words. That he was alive, that he held love for his own existence.

“Say my name, please, Dan Heng,” he said, voice fragile.

“Yingxing,” Dan Heng whispered, gaze tender as he stroked his cheek with soft fingers. “Yingxing.”

To return home, to return back to that person once thought to be gone, but was simply lost and waiting to be found.

Two completed souls now resonated alongside that dragon heart, finally at peace.

Yingxing smiled, allowing Dan Heng to brush away his tears.

“It’s me,” Yingxing said, placing his palms over Dan Heng’s. “I’m here.”

The vidyadhara looked up at him with such love, nodding with a smile. “I see you, Yingxing.”

Above, moonlight shone upon them, so similar to those days of the past that now reflected into the present.

It seemed as if their story was coming to its conclusion.

I’m ready, he thought. Yingxing squeezed Dan Heng’s hand. I am alive. My life has meaning. My death will have meaning. Let us go together this time.