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Warning(s): G, none
In the circle of Cloud Knights he sat among, a ring of fire that warmed their faces in its dry, arid heat staved away the cosmic chill the Xianzhou Luofu and was addled by the báijiǔ he and the others imbibed.
Truth be told, he wasn’t an ordained Cloud Knight. Rèn was from a world afar, a human with great ambitions who didn’t quite belong among these long-lived whose lives immensely dwarfed his. He must've seemed so desperate and transient to them, yet he had everything to prove.
Swigging back another shot of báijiǔ, Rèn’s scarlet gaze wandered towards the High-Cloud Quartet, to the illustrious four that sat with illustrious airs about them. Maybe it was just his drunkenness beginning to take hold, but when Jǐng Yuán raised his thimbleful of báijiǔ in clear acknowledgment, a rush of adrenaline swarmed Rèn’s body. The man smirked knowingly and Rèn hastily glanced away, flushing guiltily. Despite his low ranking, the tenacity of humans had taken him far.
In a time that was but a blink of an eye to those of Xianzhou, he had become a maker, a smith, of weapons and other Curios that had gained him great renown. To him, though, at least fifteen years had passed since his arrival at the present moment, and his ennui was boundless. Day by day he pushed himself to make something better than the last, and the remainder of his short life was a crop that compelled him to be better than the day before. More than that, his artistry wasn’t without a muse.
Rèn’s gaze lingered the longest on Imbibator Lunae, Dān Féng. The Vidyādhara high elder was like the moon itself, so close and yet so far. Like the sea beating against a cliffside, no amount of throwing himself at that precipice brought him any higher.
Of course… it wasn’t like he was some pathetic cad hung up on pining. Maybe being so untouchable made him want to glimpse the closest any human came to eternity, to prove that he could come within its proximity and not burn up like some lesser star.
Rèn glanced at the two bracers perched on his lap, their fine intricacies glowing jade and pale silver in the moonlight. He’d forged them with Dān Féng in mind, covetously capturing his visage in his mind’s eye with every hour and minute of work that tried to emulate that Vidyādhara. Perhaps it was more confounding because their race didn’t have courtship customs, as they had no need for them. Their creator, The Permanence, had made sure that all were meant to exist did so; and thus, they were reborn endlessly.
Companionship was a choice most saw as needless, but Rèn wondered: was it true for all of them? Was Dān Féng as uncaring, as indifferent? Rèn watched him converse genially with Báilù, a younger member of his race and slated to be his successor in the distant future.
“Aha, Rèn, how about another round— Huh?” The Cloud Knight recruit and one of his few friends watched, flabbergasted, as Rèn rosé determinedly from his seat and gathered the bracers to stride intrepidly towards the dais the four generals were seated atop.
Bái Héng giggled mischievously at his intrusion, fanning herself coyly. “Are you lost, little bird? Your comrades seem to be calling for you…” Despite her mischievous persona, Bái Héng was a good woman. As assumedly kind as Jǐng Yuán, but far sweeter.
Jìng Liú regarded him warily, but his status as a master forger saw him respected among the entire hierarchy, and this seemed no different. Her eyes were careful but cold, a single glance the difference between her guardsmen cutting him down or not.
Last of all was Dān Féng himself, those deep, pale jades almost blue in the festive lighting neither cruel nor inviting. Utterly enigmatic, but beautiful to behold. Jǐng Yuán charitably beckoned for his master’s attention, drawing her away from Rèn and his new interlocutor.
“Rèn-xiānshēng,” Dān Féng greeted respectfully, inclining his head. Báilù regarded him quizzically but remained quiet. “Is there something wrong?” How impermeable Dān Féng seemed, utterly unaware of the bewitching effect he had on those like Rèn.
“Imbibator Lunae, I’ve paid my tribute to the rest of your comrades… except you. I wanted to rectify that,” Rèn began as he lowered himself to genuflect and presented the ornately wrought bracers. Dān Féng received them between the icy glares of the guards that passed betwixt them like a river, one Rèn was glad to ford. Bowing lower so the Vidyādhara could receive them personally, Dān Féng studied the items. For a long moment, Rèn felt as though he were suspended, bare-skinned, over hot coals with each second of scrutiny that transpired. Dān Féng gave no subtle hints of approval or disgust, merely studying them like a fascinating pebble. He swallowed thickly, Dān Féng’s cleared throat jarring him with shock.
“These are well made,” Dān Féng observed neutrally, turning them over in his hands. “I’ve heard much of your works, Rèn-xiānshēng, and I’m honored to receive these. I’ll wear them with pride.” Despite the words of praise, he felt hot with how they seemed so distant, scripted for the sake of being polite. Yet, he reminded himself that he should be honored to be acknowledged at all when so many others were just faces in a crowd. This was their first interaction, his first step…
“Thank you, Imbibator Lunae,” Rèn conceded with a formal bow. “I’m glad you approve of my handiwork.” Dān Féng nodded genially and set the bracers aside, returning to converse with Báilù.
Straightening, he met Jǐng Yuán who winced sympathetically at his attempt that was something in itself. But, instead of feeling besmirched, it felt like a hook had found its purchase. The first step towards knowing this lunar immortal’s heart.
Smiling to himself, Rèn strode back towards his fellow soldiers who would greet him ecstatically at his gumption. For him, though? It was just the beginning. Soon, very soon, he’d journey farther in his path toward the moon. Tonight, though? He’d drink like everyone else.