Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ever since his youth, Zandik has had an obsession with enhanced humans. Ones stronger than the ordinary man, ones that would make you wonder; “Are they even human?” Even ones that would surpass Gods. 

As a child, all he could do was read up on it, which set him on a clear path towards the future. Growing older grew his obsession further, and now with the strength and height; he’d go on to attempt and execute his theories. In the end, his obsession grew too large for his own hometown to deal with, leading to him being chased out with torches and pitchforks on his tail along with words no boy should hear.

In a desperate attempt to make something of himself, he applied to the Akademiya. To everyone’s surprise but his, he got accepted. Those from his hometown were outraged, sending him angry letters detailing why “a madman” like himself should be let in and not them and their children, who had “blooming potential.” The letters continued when he moved into his dorm, and did so to the point where if he recognised the return address, he wouldn’t bother opening.

As he scoped out the layout of the Akademiya, a green haired person with a reptile companion (?) draped over his shoulders caught his eye each time he passed by the library. 

The first time he noticed the strange man, he was attracted by the snake who hissed at him when he stared at it for too long, earning a slight chuckle from the guy whose neck it was swirled around. 

“Sorry about her,” he apologised.

Being caught catches Zandik off guard, making him tense up and leave in a hurry muttering some sort of half-baked excuse. When he gets back to his dorm, he buries himself in his bed and can’t help but think about the man and snake. Out of every creature, why a snake; a reptile with poison at easy disposal, with a bite who could kill you before you realise it? The man who gave off multiple signals at once had done nothing, yet had managed to leave such a remark. 

He sighs and closes his eyes, waiting for the next day to arrive.

The second time he made sure to visit the day it was busiest, now having a reason to sit within eyeshot of him, inspecting him from afar. Not too far though, he was sitting at the same table across from him, gradually switching from “reading” his book up to glancing at– no, inspecting the man. His eyes, whom he now knew were golden at the bottom and darker at the top. The snake, either a viper or elapid species based on appearance alone. Though it might be none since the snake has pink-purple eyes without slitted pupils. His glasses; oval-framed with some sort of jewellery hanging from them.

“Am I really all that interesting to look at?” The man asks, his odd yet soft tone startling him.

“Well,” Zandik chuckles nervously. “I must say, your eyes and… necklace are definitely thought-provoking.”

“That I get.” He scratched the top of the snake's head before speaking again, “Is it mine or Changsheng’s that interests you the most?”

Zandik glanced down from the man's serpent eyes to the snake’s more human eyes, “the snake’s eyes resemble more the ones of humans, and yours look more like a serpent’s,” he points out. “So, enlighten me; are the snake's eyes yours?”

“Hmm,” the man closed up his book and stood up from his chair, book tucked under his arm, “Why don’t you try figuring that out on your own? You seem like a fine scholar yourself,” he said with a smile.

Zandik bit the inside of his cheek, forcing a smile as the man turned his back to him.

The man tilted his head his way, sly eyes looking as if they were about to say something— only that he didn’t— he chuckled and walked away, leaving Zandik pent up and irritated.

When Zandik got back that afternoon, as he sat down to finish undone assignments, he couldn't help but let his mind wander back to Him. His honey-oozing tone was too sweet to be anything good. His eyes; golden with serpent pupils. The man who radiated such a mix of auras both intrigued and intimidated him. All his frustration being, in the end, taken out on his pen, falling apart under his unmerciful grip.

The third time they crossed paths, it was along the Razan Garden. The man was… he doesn’t remember, blinded by either rage or interest. 

He walked up to the man, who seemed to have noticed him earlier, and asked: “Why didn’t you just tell me? Don't you think it's a little dangerous to let someone freely speculate like that?” Formatted as a question, spoken like a demand. 

“Ah, I remembered that I had something important coming up,” he answered, “Sorry for leaving so suddenly.”

The snake spoke; “Yeah, and you almost forgot to give me some air,” it hissed. “Shouldn’t me hanging around your neck be reminder enough?”

The man chuckled nervously, “Changsheng, behave.”

Zandik rolled his eyes. “Could you at least answer my question?”

“Get to know me a little better first?” 

“Pardon?”

“Meet me tomorrow. I have some errands to run, don't you think it'll be a good chance to get to know each other?”

Zandik sighs but nods anyway, “fine.”

The man flashes him a smile. He can’t tell if it was genuine or not; it seemed forced. “See you tomorrow then?”

“Yes,” Zandik replies dryly, “don’t leave me hanging.”

The man chuckles. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” he says.

Chapter Text

Baizhu drops a few mora into the hand of a tradesman who, in return, hands him a small bag labelled; kalpalata lotus. “Thank you,” he says to the tradesman before turning back to Zandik. “Alright, we can go where you want to now.”

“What do you even need those for?”

“Medicine.”

“Kalpalata Lotuses? For medicine?”

Baizhu rolls his eyes. “Well,” Baizhu starts, “it was once rumoured to be used in a taboo medicine that could make one “resist the curse.” It might not be used in medicine today, but in the past, there’s a possibility.”

“Are you trying to replicate the cure or do you need more decoration for your dorm?”

Baizhu shrugs, “Both? I’m not sure,” Baizhu gave the small bag a twirl, “I was just curious; if the people from the past were able to make some use of this with what little knowledge they had back then, what could we achieve with the gadgets and technology we have available now? Was there something they overlooked that we are able to discover now?”

“The people of the past were not dumb by any means,” Zandik corrects, “the Khaenri’ahns were living proof of that.”

“Yes, but the Khaenri’ahns used forbidden knowledge which we do not use today,” Baizhu says, “…for obvious reasons, that is,” he adds. Baizhu put the bag in his pocket and then looked at Zandik, “And I was not calling them “dumb”.”

Zandik shrugged, not seeing the point in bickering any further.

They walked up a slight hill, which at the top stood a large tree and a zaytun peach plant. He picked one up, firm to the touch. “Do you want one?” He offered.

Baizhu, who was sitting down at the stump of the tree, shook his head and said: “You take it,” punctuating it with a caugh. “It’s said to have a calming effect on the mind.”

“Yeah, you look exhausted after a short walk. Do you want one?” He offered once more. 

“I’ll be fine”

Zandik holds out the fruit for a while longer while raising an eyebrow.

Sighing and accepting defeat Baizhu takes the peach, mumbling something akin to “if you say so.” Zandik watches with a pretentious, self satisfied grin.

“Won’t you take one too?” 

“I don’t have the time, have to get ready for a trip with Sohreh.”

“Oh, do you have to leave now?” Baizhu asks with his mouth full of peach; pink, mushy, and disgusting. “Who’s that?”

“Nobody really,” he replies dryly. Zandik walks over and plops down beside Baizhu, “I should go and pack now, but,” he trails off.

Baizhu raises an eyebrow, “but?”

He shrugs, “We have next to nothing in common, so everything we’ve done so far has been relatively awkward.”

“Don’t you study the same things?” 

“No, she’s a Dastur in Amurta.”

“Really?”

Zandik nods. “Don’t you study medicine, or was it healing?”

“I do,” Baizhu says, “I’m fairly new to the Akademiya though, that might be why I don’t know her.”

“You seemed less lost than me,” Zandik recalls.

Baizhu takes another bite of the peach, “you got accepted before me, I’m sure. Though I knew the general layout of the building before I got here, hence why I was less lost.” 

“Did you familiarise yourself with the source material too?”

Baizhu shakes his head, “I used to have a master who taught me medicine. Medicine that was taught by his master and then by the master before and so on.” Baizhu made eye contact with Zandik, with a certain look in his eyes that Zandik didn’t recognise immediately. “Even after he taught me all he knew, I still couldn’t cure every illness.” Baizhu’s eyes twinkled with a shine of nostalgia as he spoke. “That’s why I’m here now, I want to succeed where they failed, even if I don't know how to achieve it.”

Silence fell on the two of them. Baizhu’s lips formed a soft, bittersweet smile; it looked as if he had fond memories flashing in his mind.

“What about you, why are you here?” Baizhu asks after a while.

“I want to know more,” he answers dryly.

“Know more about what?”

“I am afraid I can not tell you.”

“That’s fine,” Baizhu responds.

Zandik looks for the twinkle he had in his eyes earlier, only to find it had been replaced with the shine of the evening sun; shining proudly in the sky and reflecting sharply off the smooth, glass surface of his oval glasses.

Chapter Text

“I’ll be right back,” Baizhu says, sliding the door shut behind him, leaving Zandik standing in the dorm room hallway alone only with his thoughts as company.

They’d both started researching in their separate fields, yet still managed to sneak their way into their respective fields. He’d scoffed when Baizhu had proposed a collaboration of sorts; in which context would robots and machinery be useful? Yet, somehow, he’d managed to persuade him into agreeing. 

“What’s in it for me?” He’d asked.

Baizhu pondered for a little while before responding with: “I could offer you my assistance, in case you harm yourself, that is. I’m afraid I won't be helpful when it comes to all the heavy lifting.”

All through Zandik doubted— and still does —that he’d harm himself enough to need a healer. Sure, a couple of slight cuts here and there were inevitable, but a small band-aid would do just fine. However, in case of more serious injuries, it would be handy to have one hanging around.

At first, he had assumed Baizhu offered out of pity, but, after a while, he realised he was serious about sticking to his word; showing up at their agreed time and day routinely, continuing to do so when it stopped being beneficial for him. Zandik had stared at him when he was sorting through his herbs, wondering when he’d pack his snake and leave. Yet, to his surprise, he never did. He had come to the conclusion that it would be useless to ask him “Why?”, therefore he accepted it despite it confusing him to his core. It was better than being accompanied by constant ticking, he supposed.

There was a lot he didn't know that he wished to, the same goes for Baizhu. “I want to succeed where they’d failed ,” Zandik recalls somewhat accurately, and he couldn't help but agree to a certain degree. 

There would be times when he’d be sitting down at his desk, tinkering with a rushed prototype or something he'd picked up on an expedition. In his hands it could become a simple quality of life upgrade or a possible murder machine. How much chaos would it cause, he’d wonder. How many trees would it be able to paint red? And yet, every time without fail, “ I don't know,”  would be the answer. And he never would know, unless he were to disobey ethical and general law, that is. But one day, the day he was to find out, what would he do then? 

Would his heart sting for the opportunities he’d have no access to anymore? Would he rot in prison, isolated in the cold winters of exile or would he escape and live the rest of his life evading punishment? Right now, all he could do was shrug and wait till that day eventually came. Since it was never a question of if, it was always a question of when.

A cough from Baizhu’s dormitory pulled him out of his head, alerting him of how long he’d been staring into space for. All dorms were small, there was no way he was still digging through his stuff.

Zandik opened the door slightly, enough for him to see Baizhu looking down at something framed— most likely a picture— which he was smiling fondly at. 

He shoved the door open so that he could walk through. “What's that?” 

“Ah,” Baizhu put the picture frame down on the cabinet, his face looking somewhat unsure, “it’s nothing.”

Zandik raised an eyebrow, walked up to him and looked down at the picture he had just put down. “Is that you?” In the photo, it was pictured a younger, more innocent-looking Baizhu, with the same painstakingly kind smile he wears even now, sitting by a desk with an older man who resembles the younger boy in front of him, instructing him on what seems to be calligraphy. 

“Don't pry into things that don't involve you,” the snake hanging Baizhu’s neck hissed. The snake that had originally drawn his attention, yet the more he was around it, the more he wanted it gone (and dissected for further research.)

“Changsheng, please,” Baizhu said. His face turned towards Zandik, “Sorry about her.”

Zandik shrugged.

He picked up the picture again and pointed at the young boy resembling himself, smiling fondly. “That is me, yes.” He pointed at the older man beside him, “That is my father.” Those words were spoken with so much sweetness it made Zandik have to repress a gag. His childhood contained little variety, all his memories were composed of metal and insults, obsession and aloneness. Part of him so desperately  wondered how it would be to speak of someone that way, to feel so dependent on someone. The other part finds it disgusting, and useless; a waste of time.

“Ah, those were the good old days,” Baizhu says and puts down the picture, “don’t you agree?”

Despite his thoughts, he shrugs and returns to his baseline of speaking; “I don’t know, I can’t say I recall too much of my childhood.”

Baizhu tuts, “That’s unfortunate—” He picks up a couple of thin books Zandik can’t make out and speaks, “—but hey, it’s upsetting to live in the past— you’ll get nothing done that way.” He walks past him, and only now does Zandik notice that he has put his green hair up in a bun. “Plus, there's nothing you can do about the past, you can only move forward, after all.”

Zandik follows him out the door, saying nothing.

Chapter Text

Zandik knocks hastily on Baizhu’s door, which quickly turns to hammering. “Baizhu!” He calls out, “Are you in there?”

He slows his hammering when he hears coughing and light steps coming from the other side of the door. Baizhu, who opens the door with slow movements and a frail grip on the door handle, looks weak; with pale skin (noticeably paler than usual at least), heavy eye bags and a shaking posture. He seemingly forces a pained yet polite smile and greets, “Well if it isn't Zandik!—” He coughs “—how can I help?”

“Baizhu, our meetup.”

Baizhu’s eyes widened as much as they could in his current exhausted state. “Ah…” He said, his voice dripping with guilt, “I… apologise. I seem to have forgotten.” He chuckles, coughs, then continues with: “Is there a chance we could reschedule?”

“I can do two days from now,” Zandik replied.

Baizhu wore a nervous expression, “Could we do three days instead?” He seemed almost embarrassed. “Again, I apologise, I haven't been feeling all too much like myself lately.”

Zandik was about to question it, but, in the end, it seemed pointless to do so. A week ago, it had rained and had done so heavily, signalling the start of a new season. It was unexpected —the day before was almost like a summer day— and must've come as a shock to an underprepared body. The next day it, again, rained heavily, and the next day thereafter. It couldn't have been more than a common cold, though it seemed to affect him more than it would anyone else.

“I could hand you some notes that you can look through if I find them. They might not seem entirely logical, but I’m sure you'd find something of use,” Baizhu added. Before Zandik got to answer, Baizhu turned around and called after the snake, “Changsheng? Do you see my notes on the desk somewhere?”

“Baizhu-”

“Are the notes you're talking about loose papers with scribbles all over?” The snake shouted in response.

“Baizhu, I'll be fine-”

“No, the ones with text, Changsheng.”

“There are none with text!”

Baizhu sighed, “Never mind then!” He looked at Zandik, and, if Zandik were to describe him, he looked utterly defeated. “I’m truly sorry that I—” he coughed “—can't be of much help.”

“It’s fine,” Zandik reassures, though it comes out shallow. “Go rest, it’ll do you well.”

Chapter Text

Baizhu.

Zandik has noticed things about Baizhu, both things they share and things they don’t.

Baizhu, like Zandik, speaks lies. If he does not speak lies, he tells half-truths— not false, yet not entirely true either. He is sick, constantly out of breath and stamina, yet he lies, it doesn’t take a genius to notice he does. Though Zandik doesn’t know the details of his problems, he can spot symptoms of fatigue when it’s shown.

He is overbearingly kind-hearted; offering to help, rarely asking for anything in return— rarely as in Zandik has never seen him accept payment for his generosity. It was weird to him how someone so easily exhausted could offer themselves to others like he does.

“Why do you always insist on helping others?” Zandik asks. 

“It’s the right thing to do, in my eyes at least,” Baizhu answers, taking a sip from his cup of tea. “I study medicine as well, I kind of have to be able to help at all times.”

Zandik raised an eyebrow at that. “Even when you're as tired as you usually are?”

“Oh please, it’s nothing major. I’ll be fine.”

It’s an irritating thing. It’s always “I’ll be fine” whenever he has his arm slumped on his shoulder and out of breath. It’s always “They needed it more than me” when he’s sickly and without medicine. It’s always “I promised —— that I’d help her with research- Chansheng, did I deliver those herbs I said I would to ——-?” when his deadlines are fast approaching.

Yet that’s what makes him so well liked. He’ll always go out of his way for anyone, despite his condition. No matter the circumstances, it is always the other that was put in front of himself on the list of priorities. And he’ll put his heart and passion into it, always doing it with unmatched effort.

“Why?”

He smiles that painful, sugary smile, “because it’s what I believe in.”

Baizhu.

Selfless, kind, irritating Baizhu.

Chapter Text

She sat down on the blanket they'd laid down on the grass and unpacked the variants of fruits from the basket she had brought with her. Of course, bringing fruit she’d bought whilst on holiday in Fontaine. Zandik sat down across from her, unpacking his loaf of bread that he’d wrapped in a piece of cloth. Sohreh noticed that he grumbled when he realised that the bread was dry and chuckled. “You didn't think about buying fresh food before leaving?”

“It didn't cross my mind, no,” he sighed and wrapped cloth around it again. “You don't have any jam or something similar?”

She peeled a Bulle fruit and threw a piece in her mouth, “No,” she answered simply. “But you can have some of this,” she gestured towards the fruit in her hands, “It’s really good. It’s sweet, too.”

Zandik reached out to grab a slice and put it in his mouth. “It's similar to an orange,” he remarks, “where is it from?”

“Fontaine. The salesman I bought it from said something about it only being able to grow in damp environments and the fruit needing plenty of sunlight.” She grabbed another one of the fruits she had bought; an apple, “This apple I bought in Mondstat, I’ve heard that they’re fresher since they're bred to be turned into wine.” 

“Are they resistant to worms too? I don't see how they're all that different appearance-wise.” The apple is shiny, not shinier than a regular one, he’s sure she can see her reflection in it.

“Not as far as I know.” She threw him the apple, “You can have it if you're curious.”

Zandik catches the apple. It is firm to the touch— it would take one determined worm for it to be able to bite its way through. Though , he thinks, a snake would have an easier time eating an apple, using its fangs to suck out the juice would probably be the best course of action, wrapping itself around the apple like they would choke prey wouldn't be proficient. 

“I don't think it’s worms that make their way into apples. I think it was moth maggots, I'm not sure though.” She smiled, “Or does it matter in the first place? As long as it’s pest-free I’d say so.”

However, if it were to treat everything like prey instead of doing what's most logical, it wouldn't get far. “Perhaps.” But, say, if it were to come across a situation where the prey happened to be another snake, what would it do then? Zandik took a bite of the apple.

“If I found out one of my apples had been bit through, I wouldn't be all that concerned about what had bit it but more so that there was an insect that had bit through my apple.”

Would it treat it like prey and do as usual or would it go through another mode of action? Of course, it would have to account for the other snake to fight back, but would it just take the hits and continue despite it?

“What I’m getting at is that sometimes it doesn't matter what it is that “bites through your apple,” I think. Don't you agree?”

“Indeed.” Zandik puts down the apple. “It's the fact that it did it in the first place, or am I wrong?” He leans forward slightly.

She remains still and nods, “You're right.”

Without warning, Zandik pounces on them and grabs a hold of their throat, both cutting off their surprised yelp and pinning them down. Digging his nails unkept nails into their neck and throat, feeling blood form under his nails and feeling bones against his fingers. They reached up to claw at his wrists, to no avail. Pressing his palms against their throat, he watched their struggle as they felt their oesophagus closing. A small, sinister grin makes its way onto his face. Under his tight grip, he feels a bone crack.

Their arms falter down onto the ground; their face soaked from tears and their eyes losing life by the second. Their eyes closed, and their last breath was wasted on a breathless “Help.”

Zandik smiles to himself and gets off them to lick the blood under his nails, the taste of metal filling his mouth.

Chapter Text

One day after Zandik had arrived home from his expedition, he and Baizhu had planned a, in Baizhu’s words: “A get together to make up for the days you were gone.” It was only when he had gotten back that he had to push the event back a day due to noticed unusual behaviour on his part.

He’d gotten uncharacteristically giddy, it was like someone had taken a bag of sugar and suffocated him with it. He’s sure Baizhu noticed even in the brief interaction when he had to tell him about having to move the ‘event’. Even though Baizhu didn’t look like he noticed anything, he has an unmatched poker face; there were no unwanted emotions that Baizhu would put on.

The both of them had agreed on meeting at Zandik’s. When the day had come, Zandik made it a point to not mention anything of the last day of the expedition. If Baizhu was already onto him, he’d be painting a giant target on his back with bright red paint.

Baizhu had brought something to drink and nothing more to occupy himself with, whilst Zandik was sitting at his desk correcting notes he’d taken during the expedition— or that was what he’d led Baizhu to believe anyway.

As he dragged his pencil across the blank lined paper, he could hear Baizhu clear his throat.

“Say, Zandik,” he started, “How have you been recently?”

“The same as always,” Zandik answers simply. “Nothing exciting happened on the expedition. There was really nothing interesting,” he lied, “and the people were bland.”

“Oh really?” Baizhu questioned.

Zandik pauses to put down his pencil, thinking through what to say next. “Yeah, nothing to report home about,” a safe pick, sure; even though Zandik wasn’t all that social, he knew his way around a conversation— especially when it came to avoiding and redirecting. “Nothing noteworthy happened here I assume?” He looked in Baizhu’s direction as if he were able to see him. The fact that he was turned away from Baizhu was both a blessing and a curse; denying Baizhu to analyse him the way he would Baizhu.

Baizhu chuckled, “You’re right about that.” Baizhu paused for a little, then said: “No, actually, there was a woman who had joined the Akademiya whilst you were gone.”

Zandik whipped his head around, red eyes meeting golden ones. Though, mentally, he was taken aback, he could manage a relaxed expression without issue. “Oh?” 

Baizhu put on one of his sweet, poisonous smiles, “Mhm.” He took a sip of his teacup; tasting whatever tasteless leaf water he’d put in there. “She’s quite the character: She’s incredibly intelligent and beautiful, though lazy at times- Wait, no, she’s lazy most of the time.” Baizhu took his time to think and describe her accurately. “Other than that she’s a pleasant person to be around, though she doesn’t have a limit to her teasing, apparently.”

“So you know this woman?” 

“We’re acquainted,” he answers simply. “She’s around our age, you should get to know her some time.” 

Zandik remained quiet; how come he’d never heard of her before? If she was such a character, he would’ve heard of her arrival before. People like Sohreh who liked sticking their noses into other people’s business would’ve told each other, which in turn would have eventually reached Zandik. Other than he won’t be hearing from Sohreh anytime soon, it has reached him now.

Baizhu chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you for her anytime soon,” Baizhu teased. Zandik couldn’t not roll his eyes at that, Zandik would’ve scoffed at the mere idea.

“Oh, that’s not anything I’m worried about,” Zandik responded in the same tone. “Maybe you could introduce me to her once,” he said, knowing full well he had no interest in meeting anyone at all.

The only thing that had him worried was, if she really was as good as Baizhu made her out to be, was her intelligence.

“She’s a busy woman, I doubt I’ll find the time.” He takes a sip of his tea. “Plus, there’s no need if you don’t really want to.”

Zandik did his best to remain unchanged at Baizhu’s comment and shrugged, “Guess not,” and went back to ‘correcting notes’. Though, internally, he was panicking. If Baizhu could see through him that easily, what else did he know? 

It takes a liar to know one , he had said once. And, if that really was true, how much of Baizhu did he really know of?

Chapter Text

Baizhu had noticed a slight change in Zandik: He had become ‘happier’, if you could call it that. No particular change in body language, no noticeable change in his health, it was only his mood that had changed. Of course, these were only things he’d noticed in passing.

The both of them had agreed on a get together two days after Zandik had come home from his expedition. A simple hangout at Zandik’s dorm to catch up, it has been a while since they’d talked properly between the two of them after all. 

Baizhu had brought something to drink and nothing more to occupy himself with, whilst Zandik was sitting at his desk correcting notes he’d taken during the expedition.

He circled the rim of his tea cup, “Say, Zandik,” he started, “How have you been recently?”

“The same as always,” he answers simply. “Nothing exciting happened on the expedition. There was really nothing interesting and the people were bland.”

“Oh really?” Baizhu questioned.

Zandik pauses to put down his pencil, “Yeah, nothing to report home about. Nothing noteworthy happened here I assume?”

Baizhu chuckled, “You’re right about that.” Maybe it was that he was raised to notice small details, or that he had a keen eye, but something was off. The air felt tenser than usual. There was always something about Zandik that made the air tense; he never let his guard down. If his head wasn’t turned away from him, he’d probably meet with his intense and analytical eyes. If he were to make an educated guess, he’d guess that Zandik had his eyes pointed to the side in Baizhu’s direction, waiting for his next move. “No, actually, there was a woman who had joined the Akademiya whilst you were gone.”

Zandik whipped his head around. With a relaxed expression, he made eye contact with Baizhu; eyes crimson enough to light up the room, deep enough to drown him  “Oh?” 

Baizhu put on one of his sickly sweet smiles, “Mhm.” He took a sip of his cup; it tasted as bland as usual. “She’s quite the character: She’s incredibly intelligent and beautiful, though lazy at times- Wait, no, she’s lazy most of the time. Other than that she’s a pleasant person to be around, though she doesn’t have a limit to her teasing, apparently.”

“So you know this woman?”

“We’re acquainted,” he answers simply. “She’s around our age, you should get to know her some time.” 

Zandik remained quiet, causing Baizhu to chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you for her anytime soon,” Baizhu teased. Though he knew that’s not what Zandik was thinking about. It’s hard to twist anything true out of the mouth of Zandik, is another thing that Baizhu has noticed. 

“Oh, that’s not anything I’m worried about,” Zandik responded in the same tone. “Maybe you could introduce me to her once.”

It takes a liar to know one , Zandik had said, Baizhu can’t find it in himself to disagree. “She’s a busy woman, I doubt I’ll find the time.” He takes a sip of his tea. “Plus, there’s no need if you don’t really want to.”

Zandik shrugged, “Guess not,” and went back to correcting notes.

Chapter Text

A few times, enough to count on one hand, Zandik had seen Baizhu out and about with Ms. Minci, hot on his tail. Out shopping, reading in the library, and simply gossiping, in that order.

Kalpalata Lotuses were what they were buying. Baizhu was wearing his usual attire and expression whilst, most likely, going on about his latest medical discovery or repeating the previous one. Minci was wearing the school-appointed “uniform”, carrying a thick book under her arm whilst listening to Baizhu’s rambling and making sure they got what they paid for.

Baizhu was immersed in a large, possibly educational book with Minci sitting across from him, idly reading a smaller novel with a ridiculously long title. 

They were in a small, but loud, group of classmates, gossiping about the latest relationship problems or student-teacher drama. Baizhu’s smile had gotten more and more intensely sweet as more people joined in.

Baizhu was certainly right about Minci; she was gorgeous; brown hair, piercing green eyes, rose coloured lips and hints of purple in her jewellery that only added to her beauty and charm. Watching the lovesick fools crowd around her was certainly a sight to behold, it was a true blessing to the world that she doesn’t use her beauty for evil.

 By watching her interact with Baizhu, it was obvious she was well spoken too. Her mannerisms reflected her self and attitude, she was not far from the perfect student.

It was no wonder why Baizhu liked her. 

And, as Baizhu said; she was a busy woman. In shared classes, she would often be missing when they took attendance. 

And, after a while, she grew too busy to focus on things other than her own academics. Rumours quickly spread amongst their peers— ranging from plausible to outright ridiculous— and many came up to Baizhu and asked about her whereabouts. Every time, without fail, Baizhu would shrug and say: “ If you’re so curious; why don’t you go knock on her dorm and check for yourselves ?” The fools would shiver even at the thought of trying, scurrying away to ask another.

“ Sixth time this week,” Zandik mumbled.

“You’re right about that,” Baizhu sighed, slumping down on his chair. “Can’t really blame them though, you’d get a little worried if someone you have eyes for suddenly upped and disappeared too.”

Zandik raised an eyebrow, “Do you…?” He trailed off, not really sure on how to approach the topic.

“Oh, no. I have my sight set on someone else,” he hummed.

“Lucky them,” Zandik scoffed . “And they have theirs on Minci?”

“God, I certainly don’t hope so.”

Zandik couldn’t help but chuckle.

When she would come out of her dorm for fresh air, the crowd of fools would rejoice until she ultimately went back. 

It was the curse of beauty. But despite her curse, she could make time for her studies and drown in them completely. The crowd of fools would soon disperse when there was nothing to talk about anymore, since Minci had become too busy to talk to anyone at all. 

And so; there was no longer any Minci until she eventually popped up again, but the temperature would have to drop a few before that could happen.

Chapter Text

As the days grew shorter and the stars shined brighter, outdoor outings became less and less frequent among the students at the Akademiya. 

Instead of relaxing in the gazebos of the Ryazan Garden, students have migrated to using the Library instead, surely posing a problem for those who use the Library for its intended purposes. Zandik had witnessed an argument between the students who wanted to use the library and the students who wanted a hangout spot: One side had said that they could go to their dorms and be there, and the other side had argued the same, sending them both deeper into a rage. 

Some of the students had customised their uniforms— the Akademiya had handed out a warmer set of uniforms for the autumn and winter; it is visually the same, only adding thicker stuffing— embroidering stylised versions of local flowers and animals, some even went ahead and embroidered the forest spirits Aranara. The issue had been taken up with the head of the Akademiya and, unlike them, they let it happen. The only catch being that it had to be removed when they returned the uniform at the end of their studies. 

Zandik, barely using the uniform due to not being cold, had himself not done anything to it. It was in fact still folded the way he had received it.

Lisa, apparently, had not even gone out to grab her’s yet— still being holed up in her dorm refining her craft.

Baizhu had not done anything with his uniform either, though Zandik can't recall seeing Baizhu outside in his free time all that much.

Everytime he couldn't find Baizhu around campus he always chalked it up to him helping a classmate out, willingly sucking the little energy he had out of himself. But he’d always reach out at the end of the week to review and practice things from class, except this week, and the week before that, and the week before that again, and the week before that one again.

 Come to think of it; it had been radiosilent from Baizhu the whole previous month, continuing into present week.

Oh well, a check up on him seems to be due by now.

Chapter Text

Zandik knocks on Baizhu’s door.

No response.

Zandik, knocking again, says; “Hello?”

Still no response, only a slight cling from two dishes hitting one another coming, presumably, from a dorm next door, and a muffled voice coming from Baizhu’s.

Zandik starts tapping his foot. “Baizhu?” He calls, knocking again.

“Come in,” a weak voice says, to the protest of the muffled voice.

And so he does; opening the door he sees Baizhu sitting crisscrossed on the floor with Changsheng slithering from one point to another on his body, swirling itself around his neck when it spotted Zandik, glaring at him. The dishes in the sink looked to be constantly added to whilst the rest of the dorm stood gathering dust. Baizhu coughed, “Sorry for the mess.”

“What happened?” Zandik asks, looking around confused. “Why are you on the ground?”

“Just a little tired,” Baizhu tries to form his smile, “That’s all.”

Zandik looked Baizhu up and down, growing increasingly concerned. Whilst, yes, looking tired, he, in fact, looked like he hadn't slept a night in his life. He looked pale and Zandik was sure he was a gust of wind away from blowing away. 

“Get up, sitting down like that on the floor can't be comfortable.”

“I… uh,” Baizhu stammered, looking at Changsheng for backup, only receiving a shake of its head in response. 

“Figured,” Zandik mumbled. Closing the door behind him, he reached out his hand for Baizhu to grab onto. “There’s no point in trying to hide it when you're in a state like that.” Baizhu reluctantly takes his hand. Though lacking the power, he pulls himself up with the other man’s help. Baizhu is immediately on unstable footing, but Zandik sneaking his arm around him helps him stay grounded, letting him lean his weight on him.

“I’m sorry,” Baizhu says hurriedly— Baizhu, with deep eyebags, hollow cheeks and prominent cheekbones, says hurriedly.

“There’s nothing to apologise for,” Zandik says.

“Seriously, what were you expecting?” Snares the snake at Baizhu.

Baizhu sighs but ultimately ignores the snake's remark. “Could you help me to my bed, Zandik?”

Zandik eyes the snake— who returns the look —and says “Sure.” One foot before the other, he leads him to his bed, walking past the dust and the furniture alike. He wonders how Baizhu remains so thin despite the pile of dishes in the sink as the snake slithers off Baizhu onto the bed.

He helped Baizhu sit down on the soft bed, being ‘careful’ to shoo the snake away from him. 

Baizhu thanked him and apologised for the mess once more. “It’s weird to admit, but this… thing is kind of embarrassing all around.”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about being sick every once in a while,” Zandik reassures him— even if you think so, never leaves his mouth and remains unsaid. “There’s nothing embarrassing about needing help,” he grits his teeth. “You can rely on me anytime.”

Baizhu, looking right through him, sighs, “You’re just saying that.” 

Zandik does not respond any further, instead opting to shoo the snake away. “Leave,” he tells it. It does as Zandik says, but not without hissing before leaving.

“Do you need anything?” Zandik asks whilst tapping his foot, looking back at Baizhu, “Medicine? You surely have some laying around.”

“No, medicine won’t help,” he admits.

Zandik feels an unfamiliar sting in his chest. “Surely there’s something I could give you.”

“You don’t have to prove anything, Zandik.”

He bites his bottom lip with his canine, “I’m not trying to prove anything.” He shakes his head, “Stay there, I’ll figure something out,” He tells Baizhu as he walks towards the main area, as if Baizhu could move on his own. “Wait there.” From a distance he could hear Baizhu sigh.

Zandik looks around the area, mind racing. Admittedly he did not have any medical training, and knew very little of the practice of ‘ healing ’ overall. What he did know was what he’d executed on himself when he’d fallen ill.  All he could was destroy, assess, and improve, yet in this case there was no ‘destroying’ he could afford to do. 

He quickly reached up into a cupboard, pulled out a cup and filled it with warm water with the intent of brewing tea, only realising after he’d filled the cup that he did not know how to. 

Looking around he spotted a cloth laying on the coffee table next to a sceptical snake. The snake did not lecture or go on a tangent, it only asked one word: “Why?”

Zandik scoffed as he grabbed the cloth, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

 “Would you drop the act or are you going to continue to act like this is genuine?” It questioned.

Running the cloth under cold water, Zandik ignored the reptile.

“Go ahead then, be the hero you know you aren’t,” the snake said.

Zandik took the cup in one hand and the cloth in the other and walked toward Baizhu’s bedroom. On the way there he spoke to the snake, “You ought to think higher of me.”

Walking up to Baizhu, he placed down the cup on his bedside table and took the cloth in both hands. “Lay down,” Zandik instructed Baizhu, who, hesitantly, did as he was told. Zandik carefully placed the cold cloth over Baizhu’s forehead, which made Baizhu shiver in response. 

Looking down on Baizhu, he felt the hint of a feeling he’d assumed to be maternal, or a mannerism that had rubbed off on him from Baizhu, but ultimately was unfamiliar with, being combined with nervousness. Internally he was cringing at how he had let his guard down enough, but felt a feeling of relief wash over him when he saw Baizhu’s expression relaxing. “There’s hot water on your bedside table,” he told him.

 It was weird really— going through internal conflict whilst remaining completely deadpan on the outside, he couldn’t help but wanting to laugh at himself.

Behind him sat the snake; eyeing him cautiously. 

Zandik can’t put his finger on what made the snake distrust him as much as it does. At first, when he’d taken an interest in it, he’d scoured the library for books on reptiles, and later, having found next to nothing similar to it, tried looking into Liyuen local legends, which was (unsurprisingly) lacking. He couldn’t narrow it down to exactly what it was with what little information he had— which, no doubt, drives him into a wall— but he had no doubt about it being beyond the biological borders. Was it some sort of ancient reptile born out of the will of satan? Is that why it could see through every-

“Excuse me?” The snake spit, snapping him out of his train of thought. “Did you hear what I said?”

“What?” 

The snake grimaced, “Could you follow me out?”

Zandik furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?”

“I have a couple of words you need to hear,” it said sternly.

He looked back at Baizhu and sighed, “Make it quick.”

The snake nodded, “Follow me then.”

Chapter Text

Closing the door after him, Zandik follows the snake down the corridor, having to sprint to keep up with it. Thinking back on it, he hasn’t ever heard the thing talk to anyone other than Baizhu, he’s not all that sure about how he didn’t react more strongly.

He follows the snake for what feels like a century, the snake only stopping when it reaches a place with no people; Razan Garden. 

“So,” Zandik says in between heavy pants, taking in his surroundings, only now realising it was dark out. “What did you want to say? Anything worth dragging me through the whole Akademiya?”

“It’s about Baizhu, so I’d like you to think of it as important,” the snake states blankly.

Zandik sighs with a hint of annoyance, “Yeah, he’s ill, I know that much— plus ; I’ve got it taken care of already.” He runs his fingers through his hair, “If you’re not going to tell me anything I don’t know, I might as well leave.” He can’t help himself from rubbing his temples. “Who do you even think I am? I’m not some leech sucking him dry, even if you do so clearly think so,” he snaps.

“That’s not what I’m on about at all,” it clarifies.

“I don’t see you doing anything about his problems,” Zandik says.

“He’s going to die anyways,” it says through gritted teeth, “It doesn’t matter if I help him or not.”

Zandik’s eyes stare directly into the reptile’s, “What, from falling down with a cold?” He scoffs, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard in my life,” Zandik says as he laughs. “Tell me more!”

The snake looks moments away from popping from anger, having gone from quietly seething to furious to the point of violence. “Why do you think he’s so weak all the time?” It snaps. “You must seriously be oblivious if you haven’t taken that into account.”

Zandik rolls his eyes, “ Of course, ” he wonders for a second what it thinks he is to imagine him as some oblivious idiot, yet to know the snake would ultimately be an impossible task. “Don’t think so low of me, I’m a scholar, remember? And an excellent one at that.”

“I think you might need to think lower of yourself if you’re refusing to realise this man is resting at death’s doorstep,” it says, “If you’re such an excellent scholar, why do you not know that prolonged illnesses can also lead to death?”

Zandik grimaces and crosses his arms, “That’s not funny.”

“And I am not joking,” it snaps, “What do you not understand? He’s going to die.”

Zandik hesitates before speaking, “He won’t die. ” 

“Oh, I promise you he will.”

Every sense in his body is on high alert, “He will live,” he insists. A part of himself scolds him for not seeing this coming.

“He won’t .”

“He will,” he says, but they both know well that reaffirming a false narrative will only make it harder to accept. Inside, Zandik is practically grasping for straws, trying to find something, anyone , to blame. “What did you do.”

It shakes its head, “I did not do anything, he entered a contract by his own accord.”

“No, no, what do you mean contract,” Zandik practically demands. “With whom?”

“With me he entered a contract,” it states, “You must knock sense into that boy; he’s too selfless for his own good, he gave away his life to save others.”

Zandik grits his teeth, “End the contract, then.”

The snake laughs in his face, “What, so that he’ll die without the power he so desperately wants?”

Zandik shakes his head, too many thoughts are running around for him to pick out one. “I’ll make him live,” he naively says. Zandik was never one for feelings, never one to not take anything for granted, never one for any being. He had faced loneliness, he’d had blood on his hands, yet he had never thought fate was one he’d have no chance against. “I’ll make him live,” he repeats, “I’ll save him.”

The snake rolls its eyes, “Yeah, you will, won’t you. I don’t need to remind you that no human— especially not Baizhu— are anything like robots; there is no reviving them when they’re dead, you can’t dismantle and reassemble.”

Zandik can’t find it in him to respond.

“Machinery and living beings are worlds apart, you’ll need celestia themselves to help you if you even try your hand in medicine.” It smiles at Zandik. “I don’t get what Baizhu sees in you. “You just need to get to know him,” he says, yet I think I know you as well as he and I see something completely different; an egomaniac, someone who never helps anyone if there is no benefit, and only helped Baizhu to feed his own pride.” It shakes its head, “So, tell me: Why does it bother you so much? Why do you have the nerve to save him? You barely care for him at all.”

“I value him.”

“Oh?” It pushes, “How so?”

Zandik bites his cheek, “What’s it to you?”

“I am his lifeline and his talent, without me he wouldn’t be the one you know him as today,” it bluntly states, “Even if he dies, I will stay living.”

“And what if you die?” Zandik asks calmly, even if he has to dig his nails into his palm to do so.

It narrowed its eyes and started slithering past him. “Don’t even think about it.” 

Zandik couldn’t resist trying to stomp on its tail, only slightly missing. “I should’ve snared and killed you when I had the chance,” he said under his breath. The reptile didn’t look back, only sped up and slithered out of sight.

Running after it seemed next to impossible, he felt deathly fatigued, too tired to move. He felt weird, really. The quiet and peaceful atmosphere after the leech had left only served to let everything sink in. 

The realisation that he couldn’t do anything seemed to sink in only now instead of lurking at the surface like it had earlier. If one can simply “enter a contract” to gain talent and power but lose out on their life, then how long will it take for someone to use up their remaining life force and die? Will the contract go on after said person's death? If so, how many have suffered the same fate? 

He sighed, his breath coming out shaky. He was mentally exhausted. Backing away from Baizhu and his skill seemed the best course of action if he wanted to leave the Akademiya unscathed; detaching himself from the one who seemingly cared for him so he himself could live without hurt, but he was too interested and involved to back out now.

Yet Zandik couldn’t muster the courage to go and face Baizhu again, retreating to his dorm to rest instead like a coward.

 He didn’t like it, no, not at all.

Chapter Text

Zandik reaches over Baizhu to reach the zaytun peach laying next to him on the grass, pushing his hand on his stomach so that he can grab it. 

“ Ach!” Baizhu chokes out, curling in on himself when Zandik gets off him and starts coughing.

“Sorry,” Zandik says with a close to monotone voice. “Oh, you were right, these are pretty good,” he said with his mouth full after having taken a big bite out of the peach; firm and sweet. “Or did you mention it at all?… No, you didn’t.” If he were to spit it out on the grass, it would by no doubt look like a goop of mushed brains— a part of him wonders if this is what it would taste like, too. “You did say that it had a calming effect on the mind however, and you were right in that regard,” he shot a glance at Baizhu, who was still holding his stomach and coughing, “If that matters.” He looked away.

The endless prairie goes on until it reaches the horizon, clashing with the clear blue sky. The light breeze moves the grass into a dance in a way that makes him forget that it was cold as recently as yesterday. He could barely make out anything else other than grass from the hill they were laying on, under the shade of the tall tree they had pulled the peaches from. 

“It’s so nice up here, isn’t it?” He asks Baizhu. Even though he couldn’t hear him over the wind picking up, he could feel Baizhu laying down again. “It’s relaxing, it makes me forget that snake of yours.” For the first time in a while, he feels truly happy. It’s a shock to Zandik, you can hear happiness clearly in his voice. Maybe to the other man he sounds happy, too. 

Zandik sighs with a smile when the wind slows down to the point of barely being audible. “How do you know if you love someone?” He asks casually with a smile on his face. “I don’t think I’ve been loved before nor loved anyone, so how am I supposed to tell?”

He heard Baizhu make a sound, not quite a word. Zandik turned his head to look at him; a green haired beauty, honey coloured eyes with blood on the right corner of his mouth. “People often say that the opposite of love is hate,” he lays back down on the grass, “But I think indifference is, and that’s how I usually feel; indifference, sometimes annoyed, both about the living and dead, but…” Laying next to Baizhu makes him hesitate, yet he dares cup the porcelain’s cheek and turn his head so it’s facing him. “I don’t think I feel indifferent about you,” he chuckled. He stroked his cheek with his thumb, rough hands meeting delicate skin, his eyes following his thumb as he smeared the blood across it when he ghosts over his lip. “As much as I’d like to find out now, I don’t think it’d feel the same as it would if you looked less,” Zandik looked up from his lips up into his eyes and smiled, “lifeless.”

Silence fell upon them both. Zandik couldn’t find it in himself to let his mind wander with Baizhu laying right in front of him. Not even the wind bothered to fill the void. 

He looked over at Baizhu’s stomach and, as he expected, there was blood seeping through the fabric where he had pushed his hand against. Zandik could shake the feeling of something having broken through, he knew that the skin had simply given in on itself and broken. He spots a beetle wandering in between their two bodies on the blood Baizhu had coughed up earlier. Zandik picks it up with his unoccupied hand and recognises it as a scarab beetle. “Strange,” he mumbles and he throws it away into the distance.

Zandik looked back up into Baizhu’s eyes, unfazed. “I didn’t know you were that prone to breaking before yesterday,” he explained, “well— I had a hunch, but I just never thought it was this severe.” 

He caressed his cheek once more and smiled. “I can’t let you get taken away by anyone else. Not even death can take you away, even by force,” he explained, “I won’t let him. Now that it has come to it, I will hand her to you myself. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that she’ll be gentle with you, like she was with Sohreh. After all; it’s not death that’s painful; it’s dying that is.” Zandik laughed a little at how insane he must sound. “Sorry, this might seem brash, unhinged even…” he trails off, struggling to justify himself.

He’d always imagined it to be easier to talk to a corpse like it was talking to a plushie or machinery, yet he doesn’t find it all that different to talking to a living person. The only thing it differentiates itself from are the scholars at the Akademiya; not caring at all for his research and dismissing it entirely as ‘pretty boy going down the wrong path. 

“Even though you’re unable to respond to me right now, I’m sure you’ll understand why I did what I did.” He slides his hand down from his cheek to his neck, thinking back on unimportant memories. ”I’m not sure what I’ll do if you don’t, though,” he sighs. “What would you want? Herbs? Food? Flowers? Flowers are used to express regrets, yes? What kind would you want?” He wonders out loud. 

“Sumeru Roses? You can take it home with you to Liyue as a souvenir,” he announces. “I’m going to have to remember that. Hold on—” He picks up a fountain pen from behind him and writes ‘A Rose for Baizhu’ down on his left hand “—There,”  Zandik smiles. “I’ll buy you more than one if you’re still upset.”

Zandik rolls around to look out on the grass, “Do you think there is any out there? Might as well check.” 

He looks back at Baizhu as he sits up, gasping for air when he’s sat up completely, grasping the sheets tightly with his right hand and covering his mouth with his left. He could feel sweat running down his forehead, no, he could feel everything all at once; the temperature, the clothing he’s slept in, how dry his throat is. His senses are still as alert as when he’d gone to rest. He looks around his small, darkened room in a panic and sees a beam of light from a window he forgot to close, on the wall of the window he sees the same beetle he discarded mere moments ago.

He pants heavily as he tries to get a stable hold on reality. One thing he is sure of is that whoever that was, who at times impersonated and seemed like him, was not. He might have done such things before, but he would never do it to Baizhu . His eyes struggle to focus as he looks at his left hand, swearing over and over to wash his hand until the feeling of ink goes away.

The mirror in the corner of his room reflects a man that he’s not sure he recognises anymore.

Chapter Text

In his youth, no more than five years ago, he remembers meeting a couple along with their daughter, sporting long dark hair which flowed down her skinny limbs like ink, with just as dark scales covering her skin. She was leaning on her mother for support–  and she was paler than her parents were. Moreover, the girl had seemed to be balancing on the line of consciousness and was generally distracted. 

Admittedly, curiosity got the best of him and he struck up a conversation with the couple under the guise of being an Akademiya scholar. The two were immediately interested, but declined the proposal of treatment. They were spiritual, relying on prayers and divine intervention after multiple failed attempts at healing. (The girl, however, looked like she had given up hope long ago.)

They had allowed a simple interview with the girl, only allowing simple questions since she “Was too far along to have any energy.” 

Try as he might, but Zandik could not get past the pleasantries; when did the symptoms start appearing, were there any warning signs you missed, before the girl had given a weak “I don’t think I’ll have the energy to live for much longer.” Zandik himself struggled to act surprised at that, it might as well have gone unsaid. Yet he had no issue doing so when the parents grabbed their stuff, daughter and left in a hurry with her struggling to keep up.

Though their interaction was brief and the notes of that interview have long been lost, he stayed curious. As much as he wished, he could not look into it any further without being a verified scholar, and even when he was one, the rules and regulations were too strict to get anything done effectively. Even listening in on a lecture couldn’t keep his mind from wandering; one day, when he has helpers at his fingertips fulfilling his every need, he would experiment to his heart's content, finally quelling that age-old curiosity looming inside of him. 

It was one like no other; he would go as far as he needed to for knowledge, and he’d respect others who did so as well. Moral principles were like dust to him, if it was done through “taboo” methods, then so be it.

The wind when he walked outside was raging, sending his fellow classmate’s loose notes flying into the sky. It of course didn’t stop there, almost taking Zandik’s headwear with it if he had not held onto it. It had flown through the coldest cavern of Dragonspine to the humid climate of the nearby jungle, washing even the heaviest of waves ashore. No matter how loud they shouted at it, it kept the same brutality, destroying everything in its path, only slowing down when it itself decided so. Even flowing through the dormitory’s building entrance together with Zandik who, by this time, had taken off his headwear and shoved it under his arm like he would a notepad. With nothing else to push off, the wind ruffled his hair and dishevelled his uniform before leaving, closing the door shut with a bang.

Walking straight up to the right floor, like in a trance, Zandik knocked on the door of the person he could loosely call a ‘friend’. 

They were both visibly dishevelled, clothing wrinkled and hair in disarray, though you could hardly say they were matching.

Chapter Text

Zandik sits on the edge of the bed next to Baizhu, who is lying down with his right hand resting on his stomach and the other lying at his side, staring into the vast darkness the room was engulfed in, which had consumed any words the two had wished to say. 

They had been remaining still for what felt like an eternity, no one daring to say anything. 

For there were too many things that must be said, and things that mustn’t, out of respect or fear— neither could tell.

The snake had decided to leave the two alone this time, for reasons only known by itself. 

Only now, for the first time, did Zandik wish that it was here, filling the silence with obnoxious complaints.

The only thing that was heard currently were the harsh winds barging its way through the tree and leaves, banging on the windows of his room.

The wind had been unstable recently.

It was never noticeable enough to take note of, but when it starts getting extreme, it gets hard to ignore.

It squeezes through the tight gaps of the windowsill, mixing with the cold of darkness.

The dark, it threatened them; if they said anything, a world of pain would be released onto them both. 

Yet they’re allowed to choose their fate; the bliss of ignorance, the conflict of misunderstanding, or the struggle of knowledge.

Zandik started to wonder if he were better off laying in his bed, wrapped in his own warm blankets, ‘blessed’ with ignorance.

Baizhu opens his mouth, breaking the silence between the two.

“I know what Changsheng told you.”

He spoke in such a slow, languid pace.

“Is what it said true?”

Zandik, leaving uneasy silence to choke them both, took his time answering, too.

Others would call it cowardice —boy-like cowardice— and, for once, he couldn’t find it in himself to deny it.

“I wish I knew.”

“…Oh?”

Baizhu sighed, “It’s only been so many years, and Changsheng is taking her time teaching me.”

He could hear Baizhu lift up his right hand towards the sky, reaching out for something.

“Though, there are a couple of things she said wrong,” Baizhu adds, “she doesn’t mean to mislead you; it was just in the heat of the moment.”

“It’s the…”

Baizhu hesitates.

“I didn’t give up my life— ” Zandik could feel his hand grip the mattress cover “—for my powers.”

“What did the snake mean then?”

Both of their voices were laced with fear; the honey soaked tone Baizhu spoke with was no more and Zandik’s was dripping with emotion only unknown to himself.

“When I use my powers…”

“No— the people that have been bound to the same contract as me tend to die early.”

“Young?”

Baizhu chuckled, weakly, “If you think thirty to forty is young, then yes.”

The wind rattles the windows once more, unrelenting.

“I’m,” he hesitates, “Not well informed enough to tell you why.”

Zandik takes a deep breath of the cold air and lets it out in a slow, steady flow.

Keeping himself grounded has been a struggle lately.

He tries to put his thoughts to words, yet

He lets his head hang.

Baizhu sighs.

Zandik could feel his own hand creeping towards Baizhu’s.

“Fine,” He didn’t feel like himself when their fingertips touched.

“I’ll wait then,” is what ‘his’ impatient self says to him.

Baizhu only chuckled.

It was harder than he thought to unearth his truths behind the untruths he had told.

The silence hung heavy over them, there was no doubt over why.

Chapter Text

The memories of his parents coughing up blood from his youth had grown hazier over the years, but the scene of the cold tombstone of his master was crystal clear before his eyes.

Of course, it was he who had taught him everything, that disease is dangerous, but can ultimately be overcome by human intellect. This would usually be the case for others, but his master seemed to struggle with his own illness a lot.

He was the one before Baizhu who was bound to the “Way Of The Dragon-Dragging Jade Snake” contract, therefore he went through the same as Baizhu is dealing with currently. He witnessed all this first hand after being taken under his wing. He knew what he was getting himself into. That’s what he tells himself.

It’s true, you never truly know someone’s pain until you experience it yourself.

In some way— in some twisted way — it makes him feel closer to his master. To know that once he too was laying down on a cheap bed, hot pain soaring through his body. Sometimes it’s all at once, sometimes it goes away for a moment, long enough for him to foolishly think it’s gone, and then it starts all over again.

To know that once he too was laying down on a cheap bed, the pain making him tired, with another boy as foolish as himself holding his hand.

Before the tombstone that day was a green glow that he usually keeps hidden away in a drawer on days he’s with company. It’s not well hidden, one might even find it by accident.

He’s been through every drawer and cupboard, he should’ve spotted it by now. He has, he won’t say anything about it, or lie straight to him whenever he’ll bother to ask.

Just with that one lady. He lied about having to pack so that he could go on a trip with her that never existed at the time. And when he does go on a trip, she is found mauled by wild animals, then he returns giddy. 

What do you do when someone you care so deeply for turns out to be that way? 

He can blame it on the childhood he doesn’t remember, except he does, and doesn’t at the same time. That is what he has to believe, because he has to believe every lie and reject every truth. Because you just never know .

What do you do when someone you can’t turn away turns out to be a monster?

He’s gotten too afraid of saying his name, for that is a step of facing the truth.

But somewhere inside, he hopes he has humanity enough to stick around, if there’s any in there at all. 

He is too foolish when he pulls him down and embraces him and burrows his head in the crook of his neck and says in a tired voice, “I know what you did.” For when he looks at him with dread in his eyes, he’ll be pretending like he always is, just this time it’ll be with his eyes shut.

Chapter Text

“I know what you did.”

His hands shaking, he pours a pink liquid into an empty vial.

“I know what you did.”

Not an hour, minute— second — goes by without it echoing in his mind. Constantly on loop, reminding him of his wrong doings.

“I know what you did.”

He liked Sohreh, he really did. She was pretty, nice and easy to talk to, which was why it broke his heart when it dawned on him that she knew too much. She was a threat to himself, to Baizhu. But by the time the regret set in, the tigers had already gotten to her, and there was nothing he could do to save her. He’s not a bad person, it was just circumstance; an unfortunate circumstance.

“I know what you did.”

But he would just shake his head in disapproval, chuckle and whisper in his ear “ Did you really think I’d fall for that?” All with a smile on his face.

“I know what you did.”

The air in the laboratory was starting to get thicker and thicker by each vial he emptied. He could see his own reflection in the glass: Sweaty, shaking, warped, breathing heavily.

“I know what you did.”

Visions are the evil of man, for what was granted by the gods is only meant to lead you astray. Otherworldly intervention is the path to ruin as it is not the path you have carved out yourself. The higher beings are too uninformed to give out visions as a courtesy of will, for what makes one truly eligible for power? One error of judgement and

“I know what you did.”

Suddenly he falls, or something pushes him— he can’t tell. 

“I know what you did.”

He’s not entirely sure if he’s lucid; a glass shard cuts through his skin, multiple do, all over his right side. But when he blinks he sees a lot on his left side too, yet he cannot feel it, nor can he feel his face. Nor can he see very well. 

“ I know what you did.”

Where did it go wrong? Where did it all truly go wrong?

Chapter Text

Everything is so warm. His face, his limbs, the room, the flames, the breath of the people who are storming into the lab, moving their mouths. 

The surrounding area was completely destroyed; the vials were shattered, scattered all over along with the shattered windows; still dancing around the room from how vicious the outside wind is. Some of the counters have been destroyed too, including the nearest one to him which is completely gone. There are a dozen puddles of different colours and sizes from the vials and containers all around the laboratory, some of which have caught fire. 

It could be that the smoke or chemicals had gotten to him as the room was spinning, and the people all wore the same face, though he couldn’t recognise who it was supposed to be at the moment.  

He could see bloody handprints from when he pushed himself up. Surprisingly; he could walk just fine— only limping slightly, though the pain would set in soon, he was sure. 

Pushing through the crowd that was beginning to form, he could feel the stares in the back of his neck as he walked. He had doubts of the crowd, in reality, noticing him because, even though he didn’t hear anything himself— and still doesn’t— he can imagine the “bang” that caused all this commotion could be heard all across Sumeru. 

His assumption was proven correct when he looked back and saw everyone looking at him and those he’d walked past twisting their necks a whole 180 degrees, resembling an owl. It was then that it clicked whose face they were wearing; his own. Red eyes, sharp teeth. 

A shiver ran down his spine, the first thing he’s felt since he awoke, as it dawned on him that this would be the last time he’ll see his face as he’s used to it. He realises that he can’t open his left eyelid and can’t close his right, a steady stream of saliva was rolling down his chin, he is unable to make any facial movements and he’d be the luckiest man in the world if he hadn’t lost any hair. 

Indeed, no one can mock themselves quite like their own subconscious.

He could do nothing but go along with wherever his legs were taking him, as he could feel another dizzy spell fall over him.

As the person behind the door he knocked on would have to catch him as he fell over into their arms.

And, of course, his mind could not help but entertain themselves once more. As he looks up to see not his own face, but a far too familiar one.

If he could crack a smirk, he would. But, unfortunately, he can’t do anything but try to hang on as everything blurs out yet again. Only this time he is in much safer hands. 

Chapter Text

The man unconscious on Baizhu’s sofa had experienced what could only be described as a mental break, which led to the current state of His body; bloody, burned and broken. 

His left arm looked like a rabid tiger’s breakfast — one messy crater led down to the bone located on the inside of His forearm. The sliced blood veins constantly leaking blood likened the hole more to a bloody pond that refused to drain. It would need a miracle for His hand to regain mobility due to His nerves being blown to bits. No matter how many cotton balls he ended up using — which ended up resembling blood clots by the time he had to replace them — it wouldn’t stop flowing. It all accumulated into a metallic, yet rusty, stench that constantly lingered. It tasted like the man’s love for bolts and screws served on a silver platter.

The disfigurement of His face was, considering the circumstances, not too severe; eyeballs still in their sockets, all teeth intact and His tongue has no visible damage (he cannot, however, verify if He has any internal nerve damage). He seems to have had time to cover His face with His left arm, but, due to what Baizhu perceives could be chemicals, His skin is peeling. It was like involuntarily taking the skin off a fruit, revealing the meaty insides. It falls off in chunks, almost like hair, leading to His overall appearance growing evermore grotesque. He seems to be unable to close His right eye, and he was unsure if the tear ducts were undamaged.

It was a little unsettling; His eyes that were once so vibrantly crimson were becoming increasingly dull, losing its lifelike effect. Although some could argue it never really had it to begin with. His eyes reminded Baizhu of Crimson Agates he’d encountered during a study of frostbite in Dragonspine with his former master. A crystal made from concentrated life force unique to the area. The one he held was warm to the touch and almost glowing, mirroring his reflection back at him. What set His eyes apart from the crystal was simply that His eyes did not reflect his image back at him; it took in everything He saw and noticed every little change. It was unlike any pair of eyes he’d seen before. 

Then there were the burns; all over His body — ranging from extreme to mild — there were burns. Burns that would stay with Him for the remainder of His life because, despite the blood loss, burns, nerve damage and chemicals, He was breathing.

Baizhu couldn’t help but wish He weren’t, couldn’t help but wish it’d taken Him out right then and there; it would be a far less crueler fate. Yet he wrapped Him up in bandages to the best of his abilities, cleaning and disinfecting. 

It’s a doctor’s oath, after all.

“Might have to amputate,” he mumbled to himself, but Changsheng nodded from where she was perched on his shoulder anyways. “Might make it difficult to tinker with your...” He trailed off; It’s useless to make conversation with an unconscious person, after all. He cleared his throat, “You’ll figure it out.” 

Chapter Text

“We should wait till tomorrow,” Baizhu states, “have it done by a professional, too.” 

Zandik looked himself in the mirror and, for once, he was sure it was him that stared back; a bandaged up, deformed face with spots of missing skin, burns covering almost every corner, a dry unblinking right eye, and an arm that could be mistaken for a cocoon by the amount of bandages wrapped around it. From how Baizhu was describing it, there’s no saving it; therefore it’s better to get rid of it before it causes any unnecessary complications. For once, his outside aligned with his ugly insides, it almost made him smile.

“Be careful not to move too much, we want to avoid irritating the… remaining skin as much as possible as well as reopening any wounds.” Baizhu moved to cover the mirror; his wrinkly uniform, messy hair and eye bags truly fit the aesthetic of a doctor.  “It gets better. It might seem grim now, and it might get worse before it gets better, but, at the end of the tunnel, there’s light.” He nudges his face so that he’s looking up at the ceiling.

Zandik blinks; optimism is truly the poison of the species. For one who has no choice but to lay low, Baizhu certainly has a habit of dreaming about soft clouds and a future in which he goes hand in hand with his mortality. He’s special in that regard — neither at the bottom of the Fontaine oceans nor at the tip of Dragonspine will he find someone like him. 

He remembers that when they were first getting acquainted, he found his selflessness irritating. As an onlooker, it seemed useless; why would one neglect one’s own need to service others? Yet, now, as the one on the receiving end of this irritating habit of his, he can’t find it in him to complain. As he lays injured, he is embarrassed by his appreciation of being catered to in such a way.

Before meeting him, any wounds were handled by him and him only— no doting parent (what happened to them, he doesn’t know. His guess is either they abandoned him or were killed, by him or an external force, by whom he can’t bring himself to care.) to scold him or help him clean up after himself. No, his bandages were earned by charming strangers and leaving before they realised who they were charmed by— a technique lost to his own stupidity, his only “redeeming” quality— and applied with as much precision as his age would allow. 

“It’s also important to keep drinking and eating despite your condition,” Baizhu adds, “Anything in particular you want? Tea, maybe? I heard some Liyuen merchants had arrived not too long ago, so I’ll be visiting them regardless… Fruit? Something small?”

Zaytun Peach , Zandik wants to say, recalling back to their numerous strolls around the Akademiya. It calms the nerves, no? He looks at Baizhu, tired, kind, selfless, “ irritating” Baizhu. Why don’t you get one for yourself, too?

Baizhu cracks a curious smile, “What’re you thinking about?”

Zandik speaks slowly, “Do I make bad company?”  

Baizhu, despite himself, can’t help but laugh, “ That’s what you’re thinking about at a time like this?” He regains his composure and walks towards the door. “Also, I’ve asked Lisa to come by to check on the chemical burns, fumes— the sort. She should be here soon.” He waves at Zandik as he walks out the door, and Zandik doesn’t miss the way Changsheng sticks her tongue out at him.

As the loneliness falls heavily on him and the wind makes itself heard, he can’t help but feel the heaviness of his unresponsive limb against his side. It’s a shame; it’s so much easier to distract yourself when you’ve got company.