Chapter Text
For a few seconds, his memory traveled years in the past and Jiyan saw his seven years–old self in front of the creature known as Spearback King, an unearthly animal surrounded by an eerie scarlet aura that one day appeared at the base of a tree near the Plateau Ruins and never left that place.
Back in those days, Jiyan was a mischievous little boy that had no problems venturing in to places that even adults avoided, precisely, because they knew the dangers that awaited them there —of course, if they dared to walk into the territory of a creature like that.
Every time he went into those forbidden places, he made it back and talked about the scenery —the lighting, the plants, the flowers—, deliberately ignoring their disapproving look, and those eyes that when from the sincerest form of relief to the most hostile coldness. People that was glad seeing him alive had a shift in their attitude and all that warm feeling was replaced by coldness, a silent rage increased by the fact the none of them had the right to discipline him.
Jiyan knew that more than one among them wanted to slap him and it amused to know that if they dared to try to do him something, they would have to deal with his mother.
The same woman that made people wonder if she did him something to deserve so much hate or that he was just a spiteful little brat. For them it did not made sense to see him making her go through the same ordeal, every time he had the opportunity.
(Risking his life, not listening to her, making her look like an irresponsible and incompetent mother that had no control over his own child. Making her apologise on his behalf and promising that his son would not pull a stunt like that again. One, two, three times. There was a constant “I will not happen again” but it always happened again. Again. And again…)
But he did not. She did not hate her. He loved her dearly; the problem was that he acted as if he was born with one braincell and Jué was taking care of her until Jiyan stopped being a spunky brat.
No wonder the old widow that lived next to them called him “little shit”. As a child he never liked that spiteful woman, seemingly bitter for no reason, but after growing up and being hit with enough maturity and experiences to reflect on the past and accept his mistakes, he did no have another option than to agree with that moniker.
He, in fact, used to be a little shit.
“You are wasting your good luck—”
His mother always chastised him like that, using the same words, the same tone. It became almost a mantra that Jiyan ended up memorising and using against her.
“… And one day, you will cry upon realising that Jué got tired of giving you chances”, mocked her, with his eyes rolled and a cheerful smile. Some times he even dared to chuckle, as if her mother’s concerns were just uncontrolled ideas of a woman that cared way too much about her only child and saw danger everywhere. “You always say the same, mother.”
With the passing of time, he got increasingly cocky. He kept doing it until he met that beast.
Even he, a child that knew no fear and got used to get away alive from forbidden places du to his insanely good luck, was smart enough to realise that it was stupid traying to approach him to see if he was dangerous or not. Because it was not just dangerous, it was dreadfully dangerous. Walking a few steps forward was basically traying to commit suicide.
He did not want to advance but he felt it was impossible for him to turn back. At that moment, Jiyan felt a fear that paralyzed him in that place. He really wanted to run away but and make it back to safety, next to his mother and the other adults he loved to mess up with.
But he could not. He stopped registering his actions. He just stood there, paralyzed, waiting for the worst. Waiting for the worst outcome.
It was a feeling of horror he was experiencing for the first time. Something that seemed to penetrate his body and take shelter within his bones before overwhelming each of his nerves with a dreadfully icy sensation that made him wonder, for a few seconds, if it was possible for blood to freeze inside his veins.
The next thing he felt, was the energetic grip of his mother, telling to run and don’t look back.
It was when both were safe that he started to feel the pain on his wrist. With teary eyes and rage clouding his judgement, he opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong with her.
But he had no time to complain because his mother slapped him hard across the face.
“Hard enough that put me on track to become a soldier, mother”, he joked once, years later. This happened a few weeks after being appointed by the sentinel of Jinzhou as the Midnight Rangers’ general. “None of my instructors ever hit me as hard as you did that time”.
He stopped talking for a few seconds to open bottle of that liquor from Jinzhou her mother called a “noxious thing”. Before pouring some on his glass, as a joke, he showed her the bottle, as a silent way of asking her if she wanted to drink or not. She declined with her head, so Jiyan, amused, put a quantity that was considered normal according to military standards.
“In fact, they all got increasingly frustrated with my lack of reactions after every hit. To the point they ended up telling me, more than once, that something was wrong with me”
She did not like her son’s comment.
“Well, I’m glad that at least one of us can laugh about it, cheeky smartass. Because back then I was scared to death. I still don’t understand how both of us made it alive. Maybe Jué really likes you.”
She was not particularly mad, but she was not thrilled about his son talking like that about something like that after so many years either. In fact, she sounded somehow offended. There were times she still found herself glaring towards the Plateau Ruins. She knew they were safe and that the creature was away from them. But sometimes, at night, the sight of her child paralyzed would wake her up.
(Part of her job as a doctor was telling parents their child did not make it alive. Nobody prepared her to face the possibility of losing her son.)
Both memories shone for a few seconds and merged with no transition, but its was long enough for them to stain his present with that upsetting event, and to bring back the fear he felt that day. After that event, there were calmer times, but the shadow of that monster lurked behind them from years.
“Shit…”, he mustered, back in the present.
Jiyan could to feel the metallic taste of the blood in his mouth.
He was also, at some extent, simultaneously aware of his surroundings and the awry situation he had gotten himself in to. But, even with all the information he mentally gathered, he still felt lost. If he had to describe everything right now, he would be forced to remain silent because the exact words disappeared from his head.
He knew what was happening but he also did not know. It was a confusing situation; he did not remember when it was the last time something like this happened to him.
He had the information but he was incapable of place them together. It was one of those extreme situations where he could see pictures, hear sounds and smell, but that was the limit of his capabilities. He was unable of associate them, and that was dangerous.
“This is my fault and I deserve whatever the fuck is about to happen to me”, he told to himself, knelled on the snowed floor, griping Verdant Summit’s handle with both hands.
His blood-stained broad blade, plunged on the snow, was the only thing that stopped him from ending on the floor.
“This is the end—my end”, he thought, but he was not afraid.
In fact, he was calm. He acknowledged his defeat and knew exactly why he ended up like this.
He got arrogant and these wild animals humbled him in the most humiliating and unmercifully way. He thought it would be easy to get rid of them, that his experience would help him get out of this trouble with a few scratches.
At first, he was facing one, dodging those powerful claws and teeth, traying to figuring figure out its attack pattern and waiting for an opening that would allow him to strike a killing blow.
Dash, strike, and kill. It was not the most elaborated plan the general had ever came up with, but he had not time to think about something more refined. However, everything started to slowly crumble upon realising one thing: the endurance of these beasts was something new for him.
They were animals from a snowing place, where food was scarce. It was incredible how being enormous and heavy did not prevent them from being fast.
And then, suddenly, there was second. It appeared out of nowhere, like a bloodthirsty ghost, attacking Jiyan, who, by focusing solely on the threat closer to him, lost awareness of his surrounding and, thus, never considered the possibility that this animal was not alone.
And then the attack became more effective and coordinated. They were relentless and it did not take a lot of time after he saw himself surrounded by three light crushers.
He did not think about a way to escape. Part of pride, part of not knowing if he would make it to a safe place.
It was just at that moment that it occurred to him that this was a pattern. While the first one was to test the prey and exhaust it as much as it was capable of, the other kept the distance evaluating the situation. They would step in if their target refused to quickly surrender and allow themselves be killed.
“Maybe I can do something to solve this problem”, thought, dodging an attack.
Maybe was an important word. Maybe he would live another day, maybe he would see the person that made him travel to this place.
“I’m such an idiot…”
It was their hunting ground and he stupidly walked into it.
His mind was working in a curious way and he could tell the urgency of the situation. He was starting to have problems breathing; his vision field was becoming blurry and the drowsiness he was feeling at that moment was rapidly dragging him to the verges of the unconsciousness. Soon it would be too late.
But he was too tired to care about anything. He did not have enough energy to stand up, and do the bare minimum to keep himself alive.
“Guess that I have no other option that giving up…”
It was the kind of giving up that came after being overwhelmed by the soreness of his muscles, the copious amount of blood loss.
The General knew there was a lightcrusher close to him —the sole survivor of a group of three—, badly injured but still with more chances of survival than the aero resonator.
Jiyan understood that killing two out of three meant nothing when he was unable to slay the remaining one. But something within that logic did not make sense. There was something beyond, something he was no grasping. A knowledge buried beneath information he used daily.
Suddenly, he remembered something. It was so obvious he felt stupid for not acknowledging sooner: these animals were social predators.
They were probably part of a pack, not the whole group of individuals. There was no sense of personal victory, everyone did what they were supposed to do. It was the cooperative hunting.
The lightcrusher he faced were the hunters, and Jiyan was the prey. It was a reversal of roles were Jiyan lost the advantage he usually had.
The one growling was walking in circles around him. It was probably him the one that — if he managed to murder him— would drag his body so other animals could shred his flesh and consume it.
And the mere idea of his body parts scattered and shared disgusted him. If he was to die, he would rather do it on the battlefield, not in a forest, away from his comrades.
A sudden sense of urgent pushed him to try to stand up but a wound on his abdomen — “Fuck, I forgot about it” —brought him back to the ground. He saw his hands on the floor, half–buried on the snow. He had to do something. Anything. He no longer cared about his sword, he just wanted to get away from this place.
And suddenly, the silence. A silent warning that made him raise his head.
“Shit”
The lightcrusher had stopped in front of him but Jiyan had no idea when that did happen. It was just there, still, silent, looking at him with those glowing beige eyes filled with rage and nothing more. The cold air of the night condensing the creature’s breath in a misty cloud that scaped from both sides of it’s barely opened jaw, going up till his eyes, and twisting around his head like a branches
It looked brutal, dangerous, terrifying and yet majestic, even if it was wounded.
Slowly, the animal approached the general. His heavy paws crushing the snow, sending shivers down the midnight ranger’s spine. Jiyan tried to go back on his feet and summon Qinglong, but it was difficult to do it when there was will to fight but not enough energy to do something.
“It’s been a long time since last we saw each other”, said somebody, passing next to him. “Sorry for being late”
Jiyan said nothing. Suddenly he stopped hearing any sound, everything started to move slowly, he no longer felt cold. His senses were becoming numb and the only thing he could do was to look at the person that talked to him.
He knew him, but at first it was impossible for him to remember his name.
There was, however, a tender sense of familiarity in that slender frame covered by that black attire, and that blue-edged sword being held. He smiled before being submerged in a dreamless slumber.
Regaining consciousness was a slow process and it started when he was able to hear a voice calling him.
He distinguished the syllables directed at him but not in a precise order, so he could not group them together and form a word. The voice sounded like a benign echo guiding him in a direction. It did not matter where he was, how dark his surroundings were, how far from home he was, he knew he would find a safe place if he followed that voice.
He did not know how much time he spent listening that call resonating inside his head, but it was when he heard the word “General” reverberating that his eyes started to open slowly.
At first his vision field was blurry and all that his eyes could do was to register a diffused scene. His unfocused sight perceived colors merged in an irregular pattern. There was colour and light, but it was his sense of hearing the one that started to properly work again first.
Slowly, everything started to make sense. The first thing he noticed was Rover looking at him, smiling. It was a bright, relieved smile. The second, was de the absence of his black jacket —something that put Jiyan’s head in direct contact with Rover’s shoulder.
If I move it a little, I will gain access to Rover’s neck.
Jiyan knew he would not be rejected. He never was.
Normally, when both were this close, Jiyan was the one firmly seizing Rover. The general would spend some time trailing slow wet kisses along Rover’s neck, building anticipation, feeling the softness of his milky skin, licking and sucking, tasting the saltiness of his sweat, enjoying the deliciously slow process that involved the change in Rover’s body temperature. Jiyan would always purposely leave the ear for the end; he liked the sound of the soft moan Rover made when his ear received light nibbles and kisses.
But somehow, right now, Jiyan just wanted to press the frontal region of his head over his neck. Bury himself and close his eyes. It was nice sensation, Rover and him in a hot spring. People wrote stories about wounded soldiers that woke up with aethereal creatures next to them.
“Welcome back to the world of the living, General”, finally said Rover. “Please, next time be more careful with your whereabouts”
Yeah, this was the part were Jiyan got brought back to reality.
His golden eyes, like always, were warm and welcoming, but there was something off. At first Jiyan was not could not figure out what exactly was. It did not take him long to figure out that even if the they looked like those that other people remembered, they were different.
It was his pupils. They emanated sadness.
“Rover, what’s going on?”
Rover decided to pretend he did not know the actual sense of Jiyan’s question.
“You got badly hurt and I brought you to a hot spring with healing properties”
The idea of being in a hot spring with Rover was enticing, even if both were still dressed. Under other circumstances he would have allowed himself to enjoy the sight of Rover, surrounded by steam with his sleeveless gray shirt —there was something special in the way it sticked to his torso when wet, how the fabric seemed to blend with his skin, highlighting the curve of his back and his narrow waist—, his soaking raven hair and his rosy cheeks.
But that answer was something Jiyan was not going to accept. In fact, it annoyed so much he was unable to appreciate what he had close to him.
Jiyan did not leave the Midnight Rangers base just to be treated like an idiot —even if being a stupid, careless idiot almost got him killed.
He was grateful for the help, but he came looking for answers to certain questions he had. He cared not about half-truths or details that would not help him understand why Rover seemed to have ghosted every person he had met in Huanglong—from native people to New Federation people.
Rover heard Jiyan scoffing before breaking the embrace and standing up. With cold eyes, he looked down Rover.
“You are the worst liar I have met.”
The smaller remaining serene and smiled. He was not afraid of the general and the latter was completely fine with that. Intimidated people were always difficult to approach. And, right now, the general had no need of an unreachable person.
“It’s been two months since the magistrate got back to Jinzhou,” said Jiyan. He was not furious, but his stern tone meant that his patient was limited. “Last thing they heard about you was that you were staying here. After that, no news. It’s like you just decided we were no longer important.”
Rover stumbled over his own words.
“I did not—!”, he started to say, but Jiyan did not allow him to complete the phrase.
“And now you pretend you did not understand my question, when, in fact, you did understand. You choose to act like an idiot.”
Rover reached out and hold one of Jiyan’s hands, hoping that that gesture would calm him. The general did not reject him but he also did not return the gesture like Rover expected.
Instead of ending with their fingers intertwined —something that would have encouraged Rover to talk more freely—, it became a loose grip. One was trying to get close to somebody that, in return, just wanted to keep a distance between both.
A sudden and upsetting sense of shame made Rover doubt that if it was right to try talking and to come clean with him. Nevertheless, he decided to talk.
“The mayor offered me a living quarter as long a I stay here,” Rover said but all his calm seemed to banish the moment he saw Jiyan crossing his arms and tilting his head upward.
Maybe it was something Jiyan did unconsciously, but that action, in addition to his frowned eyebrows and his incisive glance, made him look so imposing that Rover, feeling smaller, concluded that there was one way to react and that was fixing his eyes in surface of the warm water.
Rover felt studied, dissected by Jiyan’s inquisitive gaze. And Jiyan, on the other hand, felt like something inside him got cold and made it difficult to trust Rover.
From one moment to another, there was no trusting, just doubt, and that made the aero resonator overanalyze everything Rover said. It was like looking for lies behind everything he said. There was no assumption of he telling him the truth.
The stating point was a veiled lie, and Rover had to prove him it was a full truth. And for Jiyan, it was something difficult because that was the treatment people in the army gave to people that were suspected of plotting something awful or involved in a crime.
“How… how about we head back to Hongzhen?”, he suggested. “If we stay longer, we will catch a cold”
Jiyan was temped to answer “you have no right to ask me anything at this moment”, but his lips remained flattened, and his gaze fixed on Rover, now silent and dejected.
An idea crossed Jiyan’s mind, making him wonder if, at some extent, his attitude toward Rover could be perceived as hostile, and that was contributing to his lack of cooperation. If this was the case, he had to change the approach first, otherwise he risked of not getting the answers he felt entitled to receive.
After a while, he said, “Fine. Let’s go back to Hongzhen.”