Work Text:
No, mia vita: ombra seguace
Verrò sempre intorno a te.*
- Orfeo ed Euridice
(Christoph Willibald Gluck, libretto by Ranieri de' Calzabigi)
[*No, my life: I will always return
A shadow haunting you.]
One of the reasons Gray Shadow Chasing Sun gained his name was that he was not known to stay in one place. There was a strong association between the Crimson Calamity and his red city, the Black one and his dark waters. All they could say about the Gray Calamity's whereabouts was this: anywhere the sun goes, there is shadow.
What no one knew, however, is that the Gray Shadow would usually look for his sun at the centre of the biggest ongoing mess. Wandering through battlefields, under some disguise or other, in search of the familiar face was not anything new for him.
He found Pei Ming this time, too.
Or rather, the moment he noticed Pei Ming, the latter sat with his back to a hill's slope and pulled at the arrow in his neck. The arrow sat deep, but he gritted his teeth and somehow managed to extract it without breaking. He was porcelain-pale, but painted with blood and dirt, with drops of sweat gleaming on his skin. He dropped the arrow, stood up unsteadily, and started walking in Rong Guang's direction, visibly struggling to keep his eyes open. He made it to just a few steps distance when he finally lost consciousness. Rong Guang caught him in his arms.
He looked down at the face that he knew so well. Great and mighty General Pei. A joke, really. Pei Ming was pitiful.
Rong Guang laid him down, unbuckled his helmet and pulled his head sideways by the hair to get a close look at his neck. Admittedly, it was a fine shot - Rong Guang wanted to congratulate the unknown archer while murdering him. When Pei Ming removed the barbed arrowhead, he tore the wound badly. And there was something else - not distinguishable to human eyes, but clear to a Calamity. Rong Guang grimaced at that faint oily glint inside. Poison. So this is why Pei Ming was in such a hurry to get it out.
A fraction of Rong Guang's mind was keeping an eye on their surroundings. Mortals did not matter. No attack, should there be any, could get past him.
He shifted into his sword form and cleaned the poison out of the wound where he could reach. Still, it was obvious from Pei Ming's state that some of it had already gotten into the bloodstream.
Rong Guang returned to human form. It took him no more than a few seconds to apply a bandage, but even before he finished it, Pei Ming's body tensed, his fingers dug into the ground, his breath hitched. Then, he screamed. So the throat is not damaged - observed Rong Guang, trying to detach himself from the fact that he never heard Pei Ming, even in pain, sound like this. Pei Ming abruptly brought his hands to the scars on his face and dug his nails into them - that is, he would, if not for Rong Guang catching his wrists a moment before and holding them down. Pei Ming struggled back with some mad force, trying to free his hands so he could claw into his face, and Rong Guang practically fell on top of him to hold him in place.
Rong Guang had never known how Pei Ming got his scars. It had not occurred to him before that they formed vaguely the shapes of human palms - until now, when his face was so close to Pei Ming's.
...The last thing Rong Guang remembered in life was cupping Pei Ming's face with his bloody hands.
He finally realized what Pei Ming was screaming. It was Rong Guang's own name, over and over again, agonizingly, without end. It faltered only to begin anew, worse each time. Rong Guang's hands, still holding Pei Ming's down, were shaking. Was not it the deserved punishment for betrayal? Was not it what Rong Guang wanted? Why was it impossible for him to endure? Pei Ming was calling him so desperately, and all Rong Guang could do was keep him from hurting himself more.
Pei Ming's voice went hoarse and finally failed him. He kept opening his mouth, gasping for air. Then he stopped struggling against Rong Guang's hands, and it seemed that the worst was over. Until Pei Ming's rasping voice sounded again:
"Please just let me die".
In their teenage years, war came to their province in the form of a brutal invasion from the neighbouring kingdom.
They could not rely on anyone else to protect their home. They did not have numbers, training, or arms to last in head-on fighting, but there remained some ways to make an enemy's life bad and short. They knew the woods and paths and rivers like the other side could not hope to, and used it to their advantage. Fire and water, poison and deceit were weapons too.
However, they also learned that enemy swords were not the only thing that could kill them. Some causes were much more trivial, especially when the cold season came. The freezing rain was seemingly never-ending. It was one thing to get sick in your warm bed at home, where your family would take care of you and bring the doctor. In the wild, in hiding, it was different. One of Rong Guang's neighbours did not survive what at first seemed just a cough.
Then, Pei Ming got sick. He would wake up at night, weak with fever, and his stirring would wake Rong Guang, fallen asleep with his head on Pei Ming's chest, from his short restless naps. Pei Ming would complain that Rong Guang's hands were too cold, but lean into his embrace anyway. Rong Guang would make him eat and drink, wipe away the sweat, tuck him in. When Pei Ming fell asleep again, Rong Guang would quietly choke on tears. Do not take him away from me. To him, it felt worse than the risk of getting caught by the enemy that they faced every day. He trusted in careful planning, cleverness, and bravery; here, they were useless.
...Pei Ming got better. Everything got better. They got to their country's army, enlisted. They chased the invaders out. There was spring again. Their home was safe again. It went well from there.
But ever since then, Rong Guang knew the kind of fear that made him feel like a wounded animal. He treated the idea of his own death like a setback in a board game. Any other misfortune was just something to take revenge for. He was terrified of only one thing: losing Pei Ming. He tried to refine it into logic, into actions, so it would stop being a weakness. For all his efforts, it clawed a lair for itself in a corner of his heart, curled there, and although it could sleep, it never left.
The betrayal should have expelled it. Instead, it only made it dig deeper, hiding from light. It could not even hide well enough…
Rong Guang let himself act without thought, observing only fragments of his actions as if they belonged to someone else.
Took Pei Ming away from the battlefield, to a farm that was abandoned because of the war.
Tasted water from the well - it was not poisoned.
Discovered more wounds on Pei Ming - not poisoned either.
Realized he had let his disguise fall off; did not remember when; did not care. Pei Ming was unconscious anyway.
Rong Guang felt as if in a heavy sleep and did not want to wake up. Whatever he was doing, the only sound he had ears for was Pei Ming's breathing.
...He noticed when the rhythm of breathing changed, and he knew what that particular change meant: Pei Ming woke up. On pure instinct, Rong Guang bolted to the shadowed corner of the room and watched Pei Ming from there. It was impossible to notice the Gray Calamity if he did not want to be seen.
Warm water and food were waiting on the table next to Pei Ming's bed. His armour was piled under the wall. Pei Ming pushed away the blankets and felt the bandages. His eyes suddenly opened wide, and he looked around as if hoping for something. Rong Guang wanted to scream.
Finally, Pei Ming lowered his head and sighed. He looked very tired, like he had no strength left to go on.
As much as Rong Guang could not bear to watch Pei Ming like this, tearing himself away was even more impossible.
* * *
Pei Ming left that place several hours later. Was it that fucking difficult to wait for your wounds to heal?! Why are you... - silently fumed Rong Guang as he followed him out of the farm and to the empty road.
Pei Ming walked until after nightfall, and not even once looked back.
Already in the dark, he stopped in a grove and made a fire.
"It is fine" - he said, turning away from the flames. His voice was still rasping. "What do I have to complain about? I do not even deserve death. But what I cannot do anymore is pretend. Please do not leave. Rong Guang. Please... please do not leave me".
Rong Guang stumbled from the darkness into the circle of firelight - not an impressive entrance that he could make under different circumstances, but a shambling step of the walking dead. It was fitting.
How can I leave? I am haunting you.
Pei Ming swallowed back tears and stretched both arms forward to touch him.
Rong Guang once again reacted without thinking, pulling Pei Ming into his embrace. He cursed himself for it a moment later. And still, he could not stop it.
"If my hands are cold, it is your fault. Don't complain".
Pei Ming shook his head against Rong Guang's shoulder, hugged him even tighter, and kept repeating like a spell: "Stay with me stay with me stay with me".
No matter how powerful a Calamity could get, there was always a spell that would work on him. For Gray Shadow Chasing Sun, it was this one.