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Viewed from up in the Divine Tree’s canopy, the sunset painted all of Sumeru a hazy, rosy gold.
Beholding it with tired eyes, Nahida smiled a little at the way it blurred the borders between rainforest and desert; it was almost as if the Wall of Samiel didn’t exist, as if all of her nation was truly one again, the way it had been in the days before the Dendro Dragon had changed colours…
The little Archon padded up the winding path up from the Akademiya and Razan Garden to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, exhausted after a long day; the aftermath of an even more exhausting adventure with the Traveler that’d taken her all the way out into that desert, into the very sandstorm of Hadramaveth itself. She was still privately sorting out the things she’d seen, learned and done there, even though she’d now spoken with everyone she’d wanted to see after matters had been settled – everyone save one, who she hadn’t been able to find.
That was alright, she supposed. She wanted to find him only when he wanted to be found. There’d be no other way, anyhow.
Arriving before the great Sanctuary, her shoulders drooped in relief, and she was just about to enter and take some time for herself when she spied a glimpse of brilliant blue off to the left of her abode, accompanied by gold glinting in the light of sunset.
There, almost out of sight around the Sanctuary’s arching walls, on the gold-veined marble ledge jutting out high above all of Sumeru City way down below, was the one she hadn’t managed to find.
The Wanderer was sitting on the edge, one knee drawn practically to his chin, his other leg dangling over the precipice. His hat obscured what little would’ve been visible of his face.
Despite everything, Nahida brightened immediately. “There you are!”
No reaction, save the knee being drawn closer and higher to his face.
The Archon quirked a little smile, gently reaching out to the Divine Tree itself. Branches reached back to her, forming a slender pathway over to the ledge. She lightly padded over, her bare feet landing on the gnarled whorls of ancient wood, and turned to politely thank them as they retracted from the precarious balcony. She joined him on the ledge, carefully sitting down next to him, her short legs dangling as well as she leaned back on her hands. He didn’t move a muscle. “Kintsugi, it’s good to see you,” she started, quiet and glad in the still evening air. “I was looking for you –”
“I heard you had a nice chat with the Dendro Dragon today.”
His voice was raspy and harsh, and for a moment she was sitting next to Scaramouche, not the slowly-gentling Kintsugi she’d come to know. It hit her like a physical shove to the chest, and in that moment she was glad she couldn’t see his eyes. She suspected this was the very reason he was hiding them.
“…Who told you?”
“Does it matter? I heard, and not from you, as you apparently couldn’t be bothered.”
“I – I couldn’t find you!” She paused, gathering herself, pushing on. “Everything’s alright, though. It all ended well.”
“You wanted to sacrifice yourself. ” He slightly lifted his head, fixating her with one blazing purple eye, every bit as fierce and frenzied as those of Shouki no Kami had ever been. Nahida froze, her words dying in her throat. He raised himself further, his expression crazed. “…You won’t deny it? So it’s true, then? You would’ve left me?”
“Kintsugi –”
“You would’ve abandoned me? Betrayed me?!”
She vehemently shook her head; it was all she could do. “It’s not like that – I wasn’t thinking clearly, I merely grasped at the quickest and most certain way to save all of Sumeru!”
“You do understand that’s not better, Kusanali,” he hissed. “Making a mistake without thinking as opposed to doing so thoughtfully.” His face twisted in a way that hurt her to look at. “You could’ve been gone. ”
“I wouldn’t have died!” she cried out. “I would’ve been a silver twig – I would’ve been planted and cared for, I would’ve recovered with… with time –”
He turned away with a jerk of his head.
“Kintsugi, please look at me.”
His shoulders were shaking, minute and restrained, but there.
“Kintsugi…” She hesitated – should she tell him it would’ve been for all of Sumeru including him? She decided this probably wouldn’t register at all with him right now, let alone as something important. “…I’m very glad there was another way, even though it took another’s sacrifice, instead.”
“…You’d better be.” He lifted a hand from its white-knuckled grip on the ledge, wiping past his obscured eyes.
Nahida’s smile and eyes were overbright with unshed tears of her own. “…You really shouldn’t need me this much, though.”
“I don’t –” The gnash of teeth, the clench of his jaw. His next words were like a gradual rockslide – slow-starting, irrevocable, heavy, gritted out with the urgent honesty of someone speaking to her while they still could. “I thought I had a spot by your side. I even… I started to think you were right about things not being transactional.” He paused, shoulders tensing, still not looking at her. “I thought you – I’d – I thought I’d finally found someone who wouldn’t leave. More fool me, I guess. Shouldn’t even trust an immortal Archon, not even one as… benevolent as you.”
As he spoke, Nahida had brought a little hand to her own chest, her eyes brimming, beyond touched, more than proud, despite his broken, accusatory tone; but she also knew this was not the time to voice it and call attention to his openness. The truth was more important. “It’s not good to place all your trust in one person. There’s no telling what the future may bring, you know this.”
He whipped back around, not bothering to hide the tears streaking down his cheeks, still welling in his eyes. “So you’re saying I shouldn’t count on anyone. After all that talk to the contrary.”
She clutched her hand into the fabric of her dress. “I’m not saying the future only holds bad things! It holds many good things, too, others who will see you the way I do even if I someday can’t anymore! That’s what I meant to show you in Irminsul that day!”
He scoffed, watery, his tears undercutting his usual sharpness. “So that’s it. Once something grand enough to warrant your sacrifice pops up, you’re gone, because everyone who knew you will be just fine. Not a thought spared.”
“…You know that’s not true.” She quieted, her face crumpling. “You know I’d never leave my people thoughtlessly.”
“Well, obviously, that’d be quite unbecoming of the God of Wisdom,” he sneered.
“…Or that I’d do it gladly.” Her voice was betraying her, now, going thin and quivery. She sniffled, finally looking away, hugging her own knees to her chest.
Kintsugi blinked, and it was as if something shifted before his eyes, as if he was only now really seeing her, not some idea of her.
She was crying, tears trickling down her face, little sobs wracking her little body.
And all of a sudden he hated himself more than he’d ever done before.
He was such an idiot.
She must’ve been unimaginably scared, faced with that level of responsibility, faced with the Dendro Dragon, faced with the decision to fade away after scarcely half a year out of her cage, already ripped away from a world she’d barely gotten to experience, of course she hadn’t been thinking clearly. She was a child. And here he was, shouting betrayal the same way he’d done at his fledgeling.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He made her cry. He hurt her. She'd already been hurt enough.
Something akin to panic lanced through him, and before he knew it he was fidgeting, and then reaching. His cool fingers brushed her shoulder.
Nahida turned to him with a little gasp, freezing up for just a moment, but then leaning into his touch.
Kintsugi bent forward, pulling her in, scooping her up, wrapping her into an embrace close to his chest; for her, and for all those he’d never get to hug again. When she wrapped her little arms around his waist and pressed her tear-streaked face into his shoulder, he let out a breath like the air had been punched out of him.
Both of them were trembling. Both of them were more than a bit stunned at each other and themselves, needing a minute to process what just happened.
Neither of them had been hugged in centuries. It was like flowers opening to the sun; it was like the wind bursting from an eternity of stillness. Kintsugi’s Vision was burning, radiant as a summer sky. The leaves and branches of the Divine Tree rustled and murmured around them, new buds forming and unfurling into leaves, filling out any gaps in the great canopy.
Then Nahida felt Kintsugi’s arms tensing around her, telling her he’d realized something.
“I’m being a giant hypocrite,” he quietly growled out, just angry at himself now – or maybe he’d only been angry at himself the whole time. “I know exactly what it’s like to see only one way out – one way to save those you care about, and not caring one iota about oneself in the process.”
Nahida huffed out the tiniest laugh. “Well, then I was also being a hypocrite, being ready to take that way out, while being very glad this other self-sacrificing person could still be brought back.”
Kintsugi chuckled roughly. “We’re both a mess.”
“Yes. But we’re getting better. It’s called growth.”
He hummed, resting his chin on top of her head. “…Next time, you bring your shadow, yeah?”
She squirmed, protesting. “I don’t intend to put you in harm’s way of my problems!”
“I’ll kick anyone’s ass. Anything’s.” He pulled back a little to look her in the eye. “I mean to stick around just as much as I mean for you to stick around, Kusanali.” He looked away, scowling a little, but not letting go. “…Not that I care, of course. It’s just that you’re of much more use to Sumeru as an Archon than as a twig.”
She giggled. “I do intend to stick around, too.”
“…Good.”
The first stars were coming out. The duo watched them twinkle over forest and desert together, as different as the two landscapes, and yet connected in just as many ways.
“It’s getting late. Do you want tea and Ajilenakh cakes before bed?”
“…Yeah. In a moment.”
She giggled quietly, sharing the sentiment. She couldn’t stop smiling, glad to be alive, glad to be home. “Okay.”
