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What did it mean to be alive? Blade did not know. He had lived long thanks to a curse placed upon him by the person he once trusted, and was driven into insanity when he was resurrected over and over again, never to find the peace he sought. However, living forever was not the same as being alive. Death was more preferable than the life he led — to never reach salvation, to never rest, to always be a danger to the world around him.
He travelled everywhere, wherever his legs could take him. As long as it took him far from life and to the people who must pay for their sins, it mattered not where he went or how long he walked.
(And if death awaited him at the end, he would gladly walk into its cold embrace.)
He kept dying and he kept coming back. Over and over. Again and again. Forever and ever. What did it mean to be alive? Was it to wake up with blood on his tongue wishing he could go back to the darkness where the pain of death could not reach him? Was it to wake up to the smell of iron thick in the air just before the edge of the sword swung down at him again and again? Was it to see the crimson stain upon the ground slowly painting the world in a single colour, when he wished to go back to the memories of the times before he became immortal?
The Stellaron Hunters found him in the midst of his insanity, unable to differentiate between friend and foe, unable to tell the living from the dead, unable to speak for the voice in his throat only knew the primal sound of beasts. By the time his sanity returned, he was being held down by an armoured man and his eyes gazed upon the red staining the earth. Another death again and yet he still breathed, until when would it end? The monsters inside laughed at his misery.
He looked up at the woman when she spoke, and the demons fell silent in his head.
“Listen, I can always kill you again, otherwise I can't bring you back.” Her voice commanded his attention, and all he could think was how quiet it was when the monsters inside him were not trying to break free.
They made him an offer to join the Stellaron Hunters, one that he did not hesitate to accept. He took the hand offered to him, one that would lead him to where destiny awaited.
The woman, Kafka, told him to relax and think nothing at all. Yet he disobeyed, the first of many occasions in the future yet to come, and he thought about how she smiled at him with familiar sadness.
(The first of many occasions in the future yet to come.)
Destiny’s slave made him a promise to fulfil his wish at fate’s end. In return, he would do as they bid him, and become a weapon to ensure the path stayed true to the visions foretold. He was loyal for as long as the promise was upheld and he would obey for as long as the curse in him was held back.
Then, he met the one who would become the pawn in destiny’s game.
When Elio brought Caelus to the Stellaron Hunter, the man did not know how to be human. He looked like one but in those emotionless eyes, Blade could tell that he had no soul. Caelus had no idea how to be human, let alone live as one. Kafka had to teach him basic life skills, survival skills, anything that Caelus needed to be able to survive a day alone.
And when he learned to speak his first word, Blade was asked to teach him how to fight.
It did not matter what the weapon was, whether it was a sword or a club, a bow or a gun, Blade taught Caelus how to fight with every weapon placed in his hands. And when the weapon was taken away from him, Blade taught him how to fight barehanded.
Blade was a harsh teacher. His skills in weaponry came with a price, it was an unwilling gift paid for in countless deaths. The pain of experiencing rebirth over and over still lingered in his body and mind, even if the gift forced upon him proved useful to him in the end. Yet, despite his harshness, Caelus never once complained about his teachings. He accepted the bitter words, the silence, never once making a sound of resistance. And when Blade praised him for finally being able to last five minutes in a spar against him, Caelus smiled.
Although the Stellaron Hunters moved their base often to avoid the IPC from finding them, Caelus was rarely sent out on missions and if he was, he was always partnered with Kafka and it was always a reconnaissance mission. He was like a bird trapped in a cage until the day Elio needed him, yet Caelus never once complained about the role he played in the script. He knew his purpose and his reason for existence. He was made never to forget when he was constantly reminded every waking moment. He was never given a choice, even after he became aware of his own free will. Like a puppet made to dance by its master’s hands, Caelus could only follow the path he was forced to walk on, even when the road ahead was covered in thorns.
At least in the time they spent together, when no one else was watching, Blade allowed Caelus to be himself.
The freedom Blade granted him made Caelus gravitate closer to him. They shared the silence — the peaceful silence where the mara stayed dormant, where no one pulled on the puppet’s strings. There was nothing that needed to be said when the company of each other was all they wanted.
Was it surprising then, that they latched upon each other like a drowning man upon a driftwood in the middle of the ocean?
Even when there were no lessons to be taught, Caelus sought Blade out whenever he could. Sometimes, it was to escape fate for one more day. Sometimes, it was to seek out the silence that the other would provide. Sometimes, it was simply to fill the longing for touch and warmth.
There was once when Caelus sought out Blade to show off something he obtained from a bet with Sam — a silver pocket watch that he hung on the side of his coat. Blade had no idea why he was the first one Caelus showed off his new prize to, nor did he understand why Caelus seemed delighted when Blade congratulated him.
(It took him a long time to understand. Too long and far too late.)
Blade never saw himself as someone sociable after he became marastruck. Why would he when he was but one step away from destruction? Caelus knew the danger of being around him. He had already made it clear that he toed the line of insanity and had lost control of the mara in him several times, something that Caelus had bore witness to, but he always returned to Blade’s side after Kafka calmed the mara inside.
“Why do you return? Do you not fear?” Blade asked and Caelus shook his head.
“I’m scared of being alone more than I’m scared of you.”
“You could always go to the others.”
“...But they aren’t you.”
Even when Blade himself drew his weapon against Caelus in the midst of his insanity, Caelus returned to his side.
He had returned to lucidity with the smell of iron thick in the air but no pain of death accompanying it. Sam held him down and Kafka stood in front of him; the scene so reminiscent of the time they first met. Kafka told him about how the mara had worn his sanity down, how Caelus had tried to bring him back with words alone, and how he had stabbed Caelus before Sam managed to stop him.
“Where…? Where is he?” Blade asked as soon as Sam released his hold on him.
“Elio is treating his wounds,” Kafka said with a sad smile. “I suggest you stay away for the moment.”
Blade did as Kafka asked and stayed away from Caelus and Elio. Lessons were suspended until Caelus recovered and Blade found himself at a loss as to what to do with his spare time. He was never one to relax, not when a minor slip of his control could lead to another incident. In the end, he spent the time refining his sword skill, swinging the weapon over and over countless times as guilt and regret slipped through the cracks in his defences.
“Blade.”
He faltered in his stance at the call of his name from a voice he was not meant to hear. He turned around, unsurprised to find Caelus leaning against the door frame. Immediately, his eyes drifted to his bandaged torso.
“You should be resting,” he said as he turned away, unable to stand the sight of the damage he caused.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Kafka told me to.”
“She didn’t say ‘permanently’.”
“Why are you here?”
Footsteps echoed in the empty room, yet Blade did not turn around to face the man approaching him. “...You’ve been avoiding me.”
Blade lowered the sword and stabbed it deep into the ground. A precaution, just in case he lost control of the mara again. He turned around to find Caelus standing in front of him, and he was surprised to find no trace of anger or hatred for what he did to him.
“Do you not fear me?”
“Fear you? No. Never.”
“You should.”
“And you’ll find that I really don’t care about what people think I should do.”
There was nothing Blade could say to make Caelus change his mind and nothing he could do to stop him. He could tell — order — Caelus to leave him alone but the man would physically latch on and say no. He could hide — flee — from Caelus but the man would find him no matter where he was, smiling in glee as he said, “Found you.”
Blade could continue to push Caelus away but Caelus would always find a way to return. Eventually, he just gave up and taught him how to better defend himself if the mara took control again.
He thought Elio would be furious at their closeness after he almost killed the most important piece in his plan and waited for the catastrophe that Caelus’ actions would bring, only to find nothing. There was no spark of anger or even a sign of retaliation. Blade asked Kafka but she smiled teasingly and told him not to worry about it because fate’s puppet had struck a deal with destiny’s slave.
“Caelus, what did you do? What did you sign away?” he asked when he found the man in question.
“It’s not important. I just needed Elio to get off my back about you.”
Just what did Caelus do? No one would tell him. Not Caelus, not Elio, not any of the Stellaron Hunters. It was dangerous to make a deal with Elio. Even he would think twice before striking a deal with destiny’s slave. However, no matter how many times he asked, Caelus refused to tell him. He could only hope that the man knew what he was doing.
Lessons resumed as per normal once Caelus recovered, or as normal as it could be with Sam keeping watch every lesson and Blade standing a distance away without a weapon. Caelus never complained, even as he looked disappointed every time he arrived and found Sam waiting impatiently for the lesson to start. He said nothing even when he found himself turning to look at Blade with regret too often.
Nothing changed until Blade found Caelus while out on a midnight stroll after having been woken up by nightmares of his death. He had not expected to see the man awake, let alone find him leaning dejectedly against the wall with his hands wrapped around his legs. It was strange seeing the frown where a smile should have been, where his eyes once full of happiness were then filled with sadness, where the man who could draw the world towards him sat in the darkness alone.
Was this strangeness the reason why he approached instead of turning away and pretending all was well?
Blade moved to sit beside him, the latter only giving him a quick glance before directing his attention back to the empty space in front of him. They remained in silence, neither wanting to be the first to break it. Hours passed before a movement and a pressure on his side drew Blade’s attention. He turned his head, surprised to find Caelus leaning against him, eyes closed and asleep. Blade shifted slightly and pulled Caelus down to his lap, tensing up when the man whimpered in his sleep. His hands moved up to pat the grey hair and the whimpers died, replaced by a sigh of relief as Caelus unconsciously leaned into the touch.
They stayed like this for the entire night. Caelus asleep by Blade’s side and Blade staying awake to watch over Caelus’ rest. The mara was dormant the whole night, never once rearing its head. When the sun rose, waking Caelus up with its golden rays, he thanked Blade for watching over him before taking his leave. Throughout it all, Blade never uttered a single word.
It was night again when Blade found Caelus in the same place, leaning against the wall with his hands wrapped around his legs. He moved to sit beside him and the man glanced up, smiling at the sight of a familiar face.
“Last night…” Caelus began, only for the words to die on his lips. Yet Blade stayed silent, waiting until Caelus could find the courage to speak again. The minutes went by, as did the eventual hours, and the two stayed together until dawn broke. As Blade moved to take his leave, Caelus grabbed his hand and Blade waited for him to pull him back down, only for him to release his grip. He looked back at him but Caelus turned away. In the end, Blade left as regret settled as a heavy burden on his shoulders.
It was days later when Blade learned the truth to Caelus’ strange routine, not from the man himself, but from Elio who finally revealed his plans and Blade’s role in them. He explained how Kafka would wipe Caelus’ memories and store him until the fateful day, of how Blade would guard the vessel until then, of how he would move as a pawn on the board until the end of the foretold future. Blade remained silent as he listened, breathing heavily as he tried to calm the anger rising from both the revelation and the mara rising up in response to the jarring shift in his emotions.
“Must he forget?” he asked, despite knowing the answer to the question.
“Yes. He cannot remember. He cannot return.”
Blade left to find Caelus, recklessness and impulse defining his actions where logic and reasoning failed him. He found the man practising in the training room alone, moving through the motions as Blade had taught him, the weapon following after his steps like an extension of himself. He ran in and grabbed Caelus by the collar, unheeded of the cry of surprise or the weapon clattering to the ground.
“You never told me,” he said. Caelus’ eyes widened. “You never planned on telling me.”
“No,” Caelus admitted, his eyes softening. Blade slowly lowered him back down to the ground after a pause.
“That night… when you stop me… why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was too scared to tell you. What if you pushed me away? …But you wouldn’t have, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t have.”
“You know, I think I’m lucky.”
Lucky? It was not a word that Blade would use to describe this if he was in Caelus’ shoes. “How?”
“I’ll be able to fall in love with you again.”
Love? With him? Blade had no idea how to respond to the confession. Did he love Caelus? He did not know. He cared for him and he enjoyed his company but romance? What did it mean to fall in love or had he already fallen and was only aware of it now? The mara shifted, rising up with the shifting emotions before he managed to force it back down to dormancy.
“You shouldn’t.”
“And I told you, I don’t really care about what others think I should do.”
Was Caelus really accepting of this inevitability? Blade cast his gaze back on the man, noting the false smile and the light that did not reach his eyes.
“Then why do you obey? Why do you stay? Why do you lie to yourself?”
“Because-”
“There’s always a choice. You can leave, I won’t stop you.”
“I can’t. They would hunt me down. They won’t stop until they get me back.”
“I can stop them, long enough for you to get away, far enough that they would not be able to find you.”
Caelus shook his head and gazed down, letting his hair mask his eyes. “Why won’t you protect yourself instead of me…?”
Oh… Why was he only realising this now? Caelus stayed for him. “Then I will leave with you.”
“You can’t. Your mara… If you leave, Kafka can’t stop it from rampaging.”
Something like that… was it more important than forgetting everything he loved and cherished?
“If it’s you-”
“No!” Blade closed his mouth with a click at the outrage. “I don’t want that! Just… When I leave… Can you promise to care about yourself more?”
But Blade could not promise that when he continued to chase for an end to his immortal life. Caelus seemed to know, already aware of the reason why Blade stayed with the Stellaron Hunters. He turned away, breaking away from the contact, only to be brought back when Blade reached out to him. Glistening eyes met Blade’s own, but there was no comfort he could offer to the other when it was the impossibility he wanted to hear.
“I’m sorry.”
In the end, an apology was all he could give, the words insignificant when compared to everything that Caelus would lose.
“I don’t want to forget you.”
“I’m sorry.”
Apology after apology, that was all he could offer instead of a false promise for a better future and Blade hated how powerless he was.
“Must he forget?” Blade asked Sam, hoping to hear a different answer, a possible solution where the Caelus he knew would not have to disappear.
Yet the answer remained the same, again and again, countless times with the same question. “Elio’s script must be followed.”
(He did not ask if he was only entertaining him by answering the same question he asked over and over, only walked away as the silence spoke for his disagreement.)
“Must he forget?” Blade asked Kafka, hoping to find an ally to argue for Caelus.
Yet there was no promise of a future that could not be when an apology was all everyone could give. “I’m sorry.”
(He did not ask if she was truly sorry at all, only walked away as the silence spoke for the disappointment he felt.)
“Must you forget?” Blade asked Caelus, hoping that he would find the courage to flee for his own sake.
Yet there was no answer, for the silence spoke the truth that he wanted to deny.
(He did not ask if he had accepted his fate when the answer would only serve to anger him, only walked away as there was no longer anything left to say.)
There was no warning when it happened, no sign alluding to what would happen. Caelus left after sparring, saying goodbye when Kafka came to fetch him, and he never returned after that. Blade only realised something was amiss when Caelus did not show up at their usual spot at midnight. He ran to Caelus’ room, only to find the room empty and devoid of any personal belongings. He searched high and low in the base but Caelus was nowhere to be found, it was as if he had vanished into thin air. Blade fell to his knees, grief and despair consuming him with the mara, but he could care less when the Caelus he knew was gone. The last thing he remembered was falling into darkness as he let insanity consume him.
The next time he woke up, it was to the smell of iron in the air and a pool of crimson beneath where the pain of death was. He was held down by Sam and Kafka stood in front of him, watching him with unreadable eyes and a familiar sad smile.
“Listen,” she said, commandeering his attention with her voice. “Our paths will cross with Caelus one day so when that time comes, you need to be there.”
Their paths would cross? He could see Caelus again? Even if he forgot about him, Blade still remembered and he would remember for as long as he could, for as long as his accursed immortality would allow him to.
After Silver Wolf joined the Stellaron Hunters, Blade was tasked to train her. It was almost reminiscent of the past when he was assigned to train Caelus. The memories overlapped where the image of Caelus took Silver Wolf’s place and Blade found himself frequently drawn back to his memories. It was dangerous when the mara would use his distraction to consume what remained of himself. Kafka had to use her Spirit Whisper often, if only to prevent another incident from happening again.
Silver Wolf remained oblivious, even if she drew conclusions based on how everyone rarely spoke about Caelus. She knew Caelus, that he was a vessel important to Elio and his script. She knew Caelus was raised and trained by the Stellaron Hunters. However, she remained blissfully unaware of the relationship between Caelus and Blade, of how they fell in love when one was to forget everything and the other would go insane from not forgetting. Blade said nothing to her even if she tried to ask and the rest of the Stellaron Hunters remained tight-lipped, whether out of respect for either him or Caelus, or because they had no right to speak of a memory too painful to remember.
On the fateful day, Kafka and Silver Wolf left to fulfil their role — to ensure that Caelus would be found by the Astral Express. Blade was not allowed to go as he had a different role to play at the time. It took him everything to crush that jealousy rising up in his chest. Why was he not allowed to see Caelus again? Why was Caelus being sent to the sinner who turned him into a monster? He threw himself into the mission in an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts.
(It did not work.)
Blade found himself slowly withdrawing from the other Stellaron Hunters, preferring to live in seclusion where he would not be haunted by Caelus’ shadow with every passing day. Yet, even when he embraced the loneliness, the memories would not leave him be.
The only one he allowed close was Kafka. He needed her to keep the mara in check and he trusted her more than the others.
(It was also because she was the only one other than him who seemed to care when Caelus left.)
When Blade finally met Caelus, it was at the one place he swore he would never return. It was the place where he had been cursed, where his closest friends destroyed themselves. He had been ordered to return and he came back to chase down a man he once knew. The place was full of painful memories and the familiar faces only brought him more grief. When he freed Kafka from her imprisonment, he found Caelus and his heart wept for the lack of recognition in those golden eyes. The mara consumed him the moment he turned his back on the man he once loved, taking away his sanity and consciousness.
And as soon as his feet touched the ground, not for the first time, Blade wished he would not wake up.
“Listen.” The voice cut through the dark fog, forcefully dragging Blade up to the surface of lucidity. He woke up to pain and to the sight of a familiar sad smile from the woman standing in front of him. She opened her mouth to speak but the words did not reach his ears. Tiredly, he closed his eyes and the mara took him under again.
When he woke up, he was in a starskiff driven by Kafka on their way to the next destination — Scalegorge Waterscape. Memories of the mission brief drifted through his mind and the image of the sinner along with them.
“Do you still remember the mission?” Kafka asked, glancing back to see Blade’s answer. He nodded and she smiled before turning back to focus on her current task.
Scalegorge Waterscape was in sight and the memories from when he was still mortal, rose up unbidden. He could feel Dan Feng moving from the gauntlet he wore, slowly making his way to the same place as Elio had foreseen. Blade clenched his fists when he remembered what the sinner did, of how everything fell apart that one day. Even if he tried to forget, even if Kafka helped him forget, it was a memory etched into his soul, a permanent scar to remind him of the tragedy that occurred.
Dan Feng would pay and death would not stop Blade from having his way.
It was fitting that they met before the statue of the first High Elder. Dan Feng had changed, both in how he looked and the way he moved, but Blade knew exactly who stood before him. Dan Feng could discard his face and his name, and deny what happened, but the sins he bore would follow him through every rebirth.
When Blade finally found Dan Feng — now Dan Heng — he was interrupted before he could launch his first strike when Jing Yuan’s student, Yanqing, showed up to arrest him. Blade had no quarrel with Jing Yuan despite once being close friends with him but he was not about to let his student interfere with his revenge.
Blade struck first, drawing the power that the mara offered. Dan Heng could barely keep up with the attacks even with Yanqing’s assistance. It angered Blade in their difference of power. Where was the might of the High Elder he remembered? How was this sinner to stand by Caelus’ side at the end when he could not even fight back against Blade? If this was the power Dan Heng possessed, then all Blade had to do was tear off the mask of Dan Heng to bring back the man he remembered.
He threw his sword at Yanqing, knowing that it would miss and strike the true target behind him. The sword struck Dan Heng through his chest and as predicted, the brush with death was enough to force him to revert back to his original form. The sword fell to the ground as the High Elder rose up and Blade called his precious weapon back to him.
Yanqing stared at the display, dumbfounded, only snapping out of it when Blade goaded him into attacking both Dan Heng and him. The child was a prodigy but still far too inexperienced in Blade’s opinion. However, as a student of Jing Yuan, Blade would not hold back.
As they fought, Blade could not help but see the overlap between the past and the present. Dan Feng where Dan Heng was, wielding the spear he crafted for him. Jingliu where Yanqing was, with her ice and speed, striking without mercy. Blade, once Yingxing, now teetering on the edge of madness as mara slowly consumed his being. Blade would have continued to fight until one of them died had Kafka not intervened. He let himself be controlled. It was a strange comfort to know that even when he lacked control over himself, he trusted Kafka to hold the strings.
Jing Yuan showed up to rescue his student and Dan Heng kept an eye on Blade even when he moved to take his leave. His task was done, and with Dan Heng back in his original form, he could open the way for the Astral Express. There was no need for him to linger here, no reason that he could use to meet Caelus again.
(A ‘want’ was not reason enough.)
He stopped in his tracks, turning to look at Dan Heng who frowned at the eye contact. “Protect Caelus with your life,” he said to the Vidyadhara before walking away.
Kafka led him back to the starskiff and Blade obediently followed her. The mara was still active and it was taking everything he had to suppress it long enough for Kafka to use her Spirit Whisper on him. Yet, even when she told him to forget about the past as Yingxing, the mara refused to return to its cage. Blade could not understand why. Why was it different now? What changed?
The next time Blade became aware of himself, he could hear whispers. His eyes were closed and he could not remember when he closed them. They had been walking, Kafka leading the way because Blade was barely holding on to the last threads of his sanity, before the mara took hold and he blacked out just before he could draw his sword on his ally. He paid attention to the whispers, barely audible but he could pick out the words. The voices were familiar, one of those he recognised as Kafka, the other was…
What was Caelus doing here? What did he miss?
His undying heart beat loudly in his eardrums and the mara responded with it. He let out a gasp as he tried to calm himself. The whispers stopped, followed by footsteps. He opened his eyes to the sight of Kafka staring at him with that familiar sad smile.
“Listen.” She said and his body shuddered when he felt her take control. It took longer than usual to get the mara under control and all this time, Blade wondered where Caelus went. He was no longer outside of the abandoned house the Stellaron Hunters were hiding in. There was the occasional sound of fighting but Caelus never returned and when he finally did, he waited outside for Kafka to leave the house.
(Not for him, never for him anymore.)
His chest ached and Blade was not sure if it was from the mara or the pain of seeing Caelus again. He closed his eyes and waited for Caelus to leave, only opening them when Kafka returned inside. She cast her gaze back at him and the familiar sad smile returned to her face.
“Bladie, your mara…”
It was different. It had moved on to a different source. The reason it changed… he already knew why.
“I know.”
“I can-”
“No.”
“Bladie…”
“Don’t… Don’t make me forget all that I have left of him.”
It was the one thing he could not give up — the memory of Caelus before he forgot everything. If Kafka used her Spirit Whisper to erase it, it would stop the mara until it latched onto a different memory but Blade could not give it up. He refused to give it up.
He discarded what remained of his honour and pride, and he begged, “Please.”
“I’m sorry,” Kafka apologised and Blade could only wonder the reason why. Was it because she knew the reason he did not want to forget or was it because she knew what would eventually happen if he left it to fester?
(And when he was eventually forced to forget, the Caelus he knew and loved would be gone forever.)
The next time he met Caelus, he had not expected to see him. Blade had been at Scalegorge Waterscape, staring at the statue of the High Elder. For once, there was no memory overlapping with the present, no demons lurking at the corner of his eyes, no nightmares waiting for him in the waking world. It was just him and the statue of a man he once knew.
“Blade?”
The call of his name was unexpected and Blade turned around, sword in hand to attack, only for his eyes to widen in surprise at the sight of Caelus standing alone before him in confusion. Blade turned away, he needed to leave before he lost himself to the mara again.
(Before he attacked Caelus again.)
“Wait!”
He halted in his tracks, his body frozen as he obeyed the order. He turned around and found Caelus staring at him in surprise, as though he had not expected him to actually stop.
“Leave,” Blade ordered, turning around and forcing himself to walk away, only for his hand to be grabbed.
“I said wait!”
Blade stopped in his tracks again, turning his head to look down at Caelus who let go of his hand in annoyance even when yearned to seek out that touch again.
“I have a question,” Caelus said and Blade nodded his head, urging him to continue. “Have we… Have we met before? Not here in the Xianzhou Luofu but somewhere else.”
Did Caelus remember? But how? No, he was not allowed to remember. Elio needed Caelus at a blank slate for his script which meant that he was not allowed to remember anything from before.
“No,” Blade said, even when it hurt to say that single word. Why was he here? Was the world so cruel as to keep punishing him for the sin of defying death?
He tried to leave but Caelus stopped him again. This time, the Trailblazer took out his pocket watch, the same watch he obtained after winning a bet against Sam. Blade had not known that Caelus was allowed to keep it but then again, no one cared as long as it was not part of the script.
“There’s this name,” Caelus said as he opened the pocket watch, the silver reflecting the false light of the Xianzhou Luofu into Blade’s eyes. Blade blinked away the specks in his vision and looked down at the watch Caelus was holding out to him. He shuddered and his lungs struggled to breathe.
There, on the back of the watch lid, was his name, his original name before he became known as Blade.
He had told Caelus after a spar, just a simple answer to satisfy the man’s curiosity and a reward for finally mastering the spear. It was a memory Blade had cast aside, unimportant when there were other memories he had to keep hold of.
“Do you know who this is? Jing Yuan said you might know,” he asked and Blade had to do everything in his power not to reveal everything.
He had a choice to make. He could tell Caelus the truth and all of the memories that Kafka erased. He could tell Caelus everything and take him away, to flee as far as they could to the ends of the galaxy. He could reveal it all, tell Caelus exactly who Yingxing was and the importance of the name residing at the back of the watch lid.
They stood in silence for a long time as the waves crashed against the rocky shores. Eventually, Blade opened his mouth and he spoke.
“No.”
Blade could have told Caelus the truth… but he chose not to. This was not the Caelus he knew before. Just as Dan Heng was not Dan Feng even if he bore the sins of his previous incarnation, this Caelus was no longer the Caelus of the Stellaron Hunters. This was not the Caelus he had fallen in love with, not the Caelus who sat with him under the moonlight in silence, not the Caelus who smiled brightly when he praised him for a job well done, not the Caelus who cried and told him to care for himself instead of him.
The Caelus he knew was gone, and it would not be long before Blade could no longer remember him.