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the high elder dreams of the past

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Lady Xuepu once instructed: "To the worthy of Long, to become a Scion of Permanence, one may pray a thousand times a day, and swim ten thousand counts in the Roiling Deep before the Dragon may speak thus."

Ancient stories like these were given to young Vidyadhara. The children were encouraged to read, and dream in the Lunarescent Depths, watched over by the older Preceptors who would wait to see the first bud of horns or the signs of a viridescent tail emerge from the brood.

Young would-be high elders come from all over Xianzhou to the Luofu, to submerge themselves in the Depths. Some return home, devoid of draconic features, disappointed initially but many of those rejected found it a hidden blessing not to take upon this terrible burden.

Some cried the moment the first nubs of horns emerged like pearly beads on their foreheads and wailed in pain as the mark of Long curled out of their spines. Some who fought the change were shackled at once and brought away somewhere to be tamed.

The torment of cellular transdifferentiation when conscious was a agony that can never be understood by any other Vidyadhara - only that those Pearlkeepers and Preceptor tutors would console and soothe the crying young high elders that this was only temporary discomfort.

'Long wanted to test them, test this body, of course, this body was never frail! Your body will never break despite the agony you will suffer while the transformation took place. Such was the kindness of our benevolent Aeon!'

"Did I cry?"

The man whose warm, scarred arms were around him tightened as Dan Feng told his story. They laid together, nestled in the aftermath of a long night, the salty smell of sweat clean on their bodies, the marks on their shoulders and waists still fresh and red.

"Of course, you never cried," The man laughed, pulling the Vidyadhara close. "I've never seen you ever shed tears, even when I was rough."

"Maybe I don't know when I must cry, or how I should cry," Dan Feng replied, closing his eyes. He felt weary.

With his eyes still shut, he asked a question: "What is pain to you, Yingxing?"

"Burning my hand on a hot forge, that would be painful," The man chuckled, turning to the side to look at his lover.

Idly, he stroked Dan Feng's cheek, pushing a tendril of hair away from the Vidyadhara's forehead, "Losing my arm, that would be torment. But I still have my other arm and my legs."

Dan Feng breathed, keeping quiet. He was still listening. Yingxing's rough fingers, they felt good, gentle even with such strength in them.

"Losing you, I don't know, doubt I would even experience it," The man said, pausing in deep thought, "If you lost me, will you feel sad?"

Dan Feng's eyes opened a slit, the emerald darkened beneath.

"I don't know," Came his answer in flat honesty. "I want to say yes but even if I kept a memory of you, in centuries, it will wither, when I enter hatching rebirth, I'll forget everything we ever had."

To that, the man only smiled. He wound his hand into Dan Feng's long hair, stroked down his neck and pushed their mouths into a kiss. "If that is so, I must cherish 'now', so when death happens, I die knowing of good memories we shared one time."

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