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Mortefi has worked with Jiyan for long enough to understand that the General prefers to work alone, but when he requires assistance, he is quick and straightforward in asking for it. Most of the business he’s involved Mortefi in is a matter of two short calls, one before and after.
That is how Mortefi knows that, when Jiyan personally shows up at his lab, he has a special favor to ask for.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, General?”
Jiyan closes the door behind him before answering Mortefi’s question. As usual, he’s too polite to take the seat that the researcher offers him, choosing to linger by the desk instead.
“I’d like your help for an expedition of sorts.”
“Hm. If you came all the way here, I assume you require more from me than just equipment?”
“That is correct.” If Mortefi isn’t imagining things, there’s a certain antsy undertone to Jiyan’s words. “I’ll be direct. I’m hoping you can join me this time.”
That gets Mortefi to raise an eyebrow. It is common knowledge that the Head of Tacetite Weaponry is loath to leave his lab, and Jiyan is surely aware of it.
“Explain.”
“You are aware of the developments in Mt. Firmament?” Mortefi nods. “Then perhaps you also know that the Midnight Rangers are assisting in its recovery efforts. However, the environment there is harsh, and the wild animals are particularly aggressive. Some tasks are challenging and risky for the soldiers to handle, so I’ve decided to personally step in—if only to show the Midnight Rangers’ sincerity in helping the citizens there.”
Typical Jiyan, being a mother hen to his Rangers, Mortefi snorts to himself. “And how do I fit into that picture?”
“Well, I expect that an inquisitive soul such as yourself might be interested in investigating the unique phenomenon at Mt. Firmament,” Jiyan reasons. “The town of Hongzhen is open to the public, but not the rest of the mountain; one must obtain the Magistrate’s endorsement and a Ranger’s accompaniment. I am certain the researchers at Huaxu Academy will be given access eventually, but the Magistrate will make an exception for you, should I request it.”
Mortefi hums. “Tempting. But why me?”
“Mt. Firmament has a wintry climate. Having a Fusion Resonator will give us an edge, and it must be one that can hold their ground in battle. Some of the ruins also operate on Savantae technology, so having someone well-versed in machinery will be ideal. I can count the number of people who meet these requirements with one hand.” Jiyan pauses, then shrugs. “Out of all, you are the one I work with the most often—and only one I’d trust with my back.”
Those words make Mortefi’s heart swell with pride, but it’s the same pride that keeps it from showing on his face.
“How long will this take?”
“Two days at most, including the journey there and back.”
Jiyan’s tone is hopeful and his eyes keenly observe Mortefi for a reaction; still, he keeps silent, giving the researcher time to consider. What he doesn’t know is that Mortefi had already made up his mind the moment he saw that it was Jiyan at the door.
Mortefi briefly scrolls through his tablet and glances at his watch, all while carefully keeping a thoughtful expression on his face. At last, he returns his attention to Jiyan.
“As always, I’m the one you need,” he sighs. “I really can’t win with you, can I? Let’s just get this done.”
The anxiousness on Jiyan’s face gives way to a bright smile.
“I’ll make sure it’s worth your time,” he promises. “Thank you, Mortefi.”
(If Mortefi thinks that Jiyan’s smile is all he needs for his time to be well-spent, he doesn’t mention it.)
Jiyan takes it upon himself to handle their preparations for the trip, and they arrive in Hongzhen the following afternoon. However, all it takes is one glance from Mortefi to realize that Jiyan had neglected to prepare sufficiently for one crucial matter.
“Jiyan.”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you freezing your ass off?”
Jiyan frowns. “Excuse me?”
Mortefi gestures impatiently around the town. Every person in sight is swathed with thick, fluffy fleece—or at the very least, they’re fully covered, save for their faces. The General, on the other hand… “You are wearing so little. For this weather.”
The tip of Jiyan’s ears flush pink. “I am almost fully covered, thank you very much.”
“Emphasis on almost,” Mortefi points beneath Jiyan’s shoulder. He circles around to Jiyan’s back, and the General visibly squirms. “How much heat do you expect to retain when your entire dorsal ridge is exposed? Not to mention you’re wearing such thin clothing. This town is warmer than outside, but I can already see goosebumps on you.”
Jiyan spins around, folding his arms self-consciously. “You’re not wearing much either,” he accuses.
“I’m a Fusion Resonator, Jiyan. My Forte is capable of regulating my body temperature,” he gives Jiyan a withering glare. At Jiyan’s skeptical look, Mortefi grabs his hand—as expected, Jiyan’s fingers are cold as ice. “See?”
At his touch, Jiyan flinches, and his eyes dart to the side. “I’ve been through worse,” he deflects, trying to tug his hand back. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“So you admit you’re cold,” Mortefi narrows his eyes. “Are you sure? We can look around town. Find you something better to wear before we set out.”
“I will be fine,” Jiyan insists again. “Once we’re on the move, it should warm me up.”
Mortefi frowns. Sometimes, he really can’t understand Jiyan. Was his stubbornness due to pride? Or a lack of self-preservation? Or some other reason altogether?
With a click of his tongue, he finally lets go of Jiyan’s hand to dig through his pocket.
“Here.”
Jiyan deftly catches the lighter tossed his way, confusion written all over his face. “What’s this for?”
The researcher is already walking off without him, dismissively waving a hand.
“So if we somehow get separated, I know that you probably won’t freeze to death out there.”
Jiyan forges ahead as Mortefi trails quietly behind, slowly taking in every detail he can glean from their surroundings. They begin with hunting down a few Dreadmanes that have been causing the townspeople trouble, and it becomes quickly apparent why Jiyan chose to take matters into his own hands—the creatures on the mountain are ferocious and quick-witted, making their next move tough to predict even for seasoned explorers.
Still, they’re no match for the General, who swings his lance and commands the winds in the steps of a deadly dance.
This isn’t the first time Mortefi has stood with Jiyan on the battlefield. His work is in the lab, yes, but during the days of the Threnodian disaster, desperate times called for desperate measures. The researcher’s firepower certainly wasn't limited to that of the weapons developed by his hand, and if there was anyone outside the Midnight Rangers who had seen the General fight countless times through live holograms, it would be Mortefi. And so it was Mortefi who fought back-to-back with Jiyan during one particular unforeseen circumstance, then another, and then another…
At this point, by sheer muscle memory, every shot Mortefi takes with his pistol has been carefully calculated to perfectly compliment Jiyan’s strikes.
But right now, despite the considerable distance between them, Mortefi can feel it—the frosty blizzard whipping around Jiyan, blades of icy wind whittling away at both their opponent and the General. If Jiyan is uncomfortable, there’s no hint of it on his face. Even so, if the chill could be felt from this far away, then it’s only a matter of time before Jiyan gets hypothermia, and that’s certainly not happening on Mortefi’s watch.
Silently, he sends a flicker of his flames into the eye of the storm, and it hovers over Jiyan’s shoulder like a dragon’s wing.
The air fans the flames, and Jiyan quickly notices the warmth enveloping him. He turns around and flashes Mortefi a grateful smile, who simply shrugs back.
If Jiyan paints a landscape of rivers and mist with his whirls of teal, then the flicker of flames is like a bright spot that marks the sun—Mortefi’s personal touch in the tapestry. The sight of it silently quells the familiar protective urge stirring in his chest.
Still, Mortefi has an image to keep, so he isn’t always so generous. When the Clang Bangs turn Jiyan into a frozen sculpture, he gets in a good laugh at the other man’s expense, before taking his time to melt down the ice. Jiyan gives him an unamused glare all the while, which he ignores in favor of snickering at the General.
As they move from place to place, it becomes abundantly clear that Mt. Firmament was every bit the treasure trove it was rumored to be. When Mortefi's colleagues had caught wind of his authorized entry to the area, they’d piled him with all sorts of requests, and so he finds himself taking a detour every other minute—to absorb an Echo for Baizhi, to collect a plant specimen for Verina…so on and so forth.
At some point, Jiyan seems to grow tired of glancing back every ten seconds just to make sure his companion was still following along, and quietly falls into step by Mortefi’s side to let the researcher take the lead.
“All these contraptions really capture your interest.”
Mortefi grunts, fiddling with the Chronosorter. “They’re of more use to my colleagues. To them, my visit to this place just means I’m their errand boy.”
Jiyan gives him a small smile. “Given your infamously fiery temper, you’re more generous than one would expect.”
“It’s not like I’m going out of my way to buy them souvenirs. I wouldn’t be doing any of these if they didn’t want me to collect such specific data.”
He gets a hum in response that sounds more amused than convinced. “So whose errand are you running now?”
“Xiangli Yao’s.”
Jiyan shoots him a puzzled look. “Isn’t he out of town this week? How did he know you’d be on Mt. Firmament?”
Mortefi balks. Then he continues prodding around the Chronosorter.
“He didn’t,” he eventually mutters. “I just thought that…this kind of puzzle might be up his alley.”
Jiyan raises an eyebrow. Mortefi avoids his gaze.
“I see,” the General says, clearly amused this time. “How do you intend to bring this back?”
“I’m not going to. These things apparently don’t work outside Mt. Firmament, not to mention I’d look exceedingly stupid carrying a huge rock. Right now, I’m trying my best to understand the principles behind how it works.”
“So you can recreate it?”
“No, I’m not knowledgeable enough in Automata Mechanics for that,” Mortefi sighs. Then an idea strikes him. “But I could take a few pictures. Jiyan, stand here.”
“Huh? Me?”
“Do you see any other Jiyan here? This needs to be operated with two hands. I can’t take pictures at the same time, so help me out. Just follow my instructions.”
Jiyan obediently walks over, but there’s visible reluctance in the way he removes his hands from his pockets. He’s clearly still cold, Mortefi frowns to himself. I’ll wrap this up quickly so we can find someplace warm to rest.
With Mortefi’s guidance, Jiyan adjusts the Chronosorter along various stages of the puzzle for Mortefi to take a snapshot of. The General tries to skirt out of the frame, but Mortefi chases him back in.
“For scale,” the researcher explains, “and to show how it’s operated. So stop hiding, because I want you in the picture.”
At the final step of the puzzle, the suspended rocks give way to the rays of the sun dipping beneath the horizon. All at once, the enormous entirety of Loong’s Crest is made visible to where they stand. The scenery is unexpectedly magnificent, with light refracting off crystalline ice in dazzling kaleidoscopes, and Mortefi’s not sure if any photo will ever do its sublime grandiosity justice.
Then he turns to his side to see Jiyan’s eyes wide with wonder, lips parted for a puff of breath, all coldness forgotten and face awash with awe.
It is this sight that truly steals Mortefi’s breath away.
Click!
Jiyan blinks out of his daze, turns to Mortefi, then frowns. “Hey.”
The redhead snickers, reviewing the photo on his Terminal with a smug smile. “Don’t worry, it’s a good shot. Made you look very handsome, if I may say so myself.”
Jiyan's cheeks go pink. “Self-praise is no praise at all,” he mutters, putting his hands back in his pockets.
Mortefi hums noncommittally in response. Originally, he’d intended to eventually delete all the photos from this trip, which were bound to take up too much space on his Terminal alongside all the other data he’d collected.
But perhaps he’ll make an exception for just one photo.
Jiyan entrusts their map to Mortefi, and with it, the responsibility of planning the route to the next location. It would thus make sense that the General stayed relatively close to him as their journey continued…but by the fifth time their shoulders bump, Mortefi thinks he should say something.
“Jiyan.”
“Mm?”
There’s plenty of space, so why are you walking so close to me? Mortefi opens his mouth to ask. He hadn’t even realized when exactly the General had drifted so close to his side, to the extent that Mortefi could feel his own body heat bouncing back to him—
…Wait a minute.
He glances furtively at Jiyan’s back. No goosebumps, unlike when they’d set off on their trip. The General’s face and ears weren't looking as flushed, either.
Mortefi squints at companion. “Did you just bring me along as a warming beacon?”
The flush returns fully to Jiyan’s face. “What? No!”
“Then did you adamantly refuse to get warmer clothing because you figured I was a viable source of warmth?”
Jiyan looks away, but the corner of his lips twitch upwards. “...Maybe.”
“You—seriously? Unbelievable,” Mortefi grumbles, and Jiyan finally breaks into laughter. “I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to being the General’s bonfire. Utterly humiliating.”
“I didn’t mean it that way!”
“Please, enlighten me on how the existence of a meager bonfire such as myself may be glorified.”
“Well,” he smiles, giving Mortefi a sideways glance, “perhaps I just wanted a reason to be closer to you.”
Mortefi’s breath stutters. Jiyan continues smiling wordlessly at him.
“...Sure,” the redhead eventually mutters, his eyes turning to the ground. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“I do genuinely enjoy your company,” Jiyan chuckles, “especially in this weather. Did you know? The people of Hongzhen have a saying: if you leave your mark in the snow and watch it melt, your wishes will be fulfilled. It does make the tedious experience of trekking through this terrain quite enjoyable, especially with the right company.”
As Jiyan speaks, he stretches out a hand to catch a snowflake gently drifting into his palm. Mortefi mirrors the action—but the frost yields to his warm touch, melting like the snow beneath his feet, which mark their trail with indistinct indentations alongside the crisp prints of Jiyan’s boots.
“On the contrary,” Mortefi snorts softly, taking a step away from Jiyan for his hand to fall back to his side. “I’d say you’re walking with someone who’s melting all the snow before you can make any sort of wish.”
The General hums thoughtfully, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. What he does do, however, is take a step back closer to him for their shoulders to bump again.
“Or maybe,” Jiyan suggests quietly, a small smile playing on his lips, “it is your presence that fulfills my very wish.”
When they enter the small cave, Jiyan frowns.
“Mortefi? This isn’t where our next objective is. Or do you have another detour to make here?”
“Indeed.”
“Ah. Pardon me, then. For whom?”
Mortefi finds that a fireplace has already been set up, and he hums at the pleasant surprise. “You.”
Jiyan blinks. “Me?”
“Yep, you. Let’s call it a day before you fall asleep on me.”
“What? But—it’s still early,” Jiyan protests. “I can keep going.”
Mortefi turns around to fix him with a glare. “Early in Jinzhou, yes, but I’m sure you can see that the sun has already set here on Mt. Firmament. Besides, don’t think I didn’t notice you constantly yawning for the past hour.” (At this, Jiyan belatedly stifles the beginnings of another yawn.) “I know I’m a very cozy heater, but we’ve already done a lot today, and you need proper rest.”
Jiyan tries to hide a smile and fails. “You are indeed a good heater, I admit. Have you considered that’s the reason I’m sleepy?”
“Ha-ha.” Mortefi lights the fireplace with a snap of his fingers. “Now set up this place before you start to hibernate.”
They split their rations, and time slowly flies by as they wind down for the day: Jiyan wipes his broadblade clean of rime and updates their checklist, while Mortefi organizes what he can of the data in his Terminal with its limited connection.
At some point, Mortefi catches the General nodding off by the fire. “Go and sleep,” he scolds gently. “I’m sure there’s nothing you have to do that can’t be left for tomorrow.”
“I suppose,” Jiyan yawns, with an uncharacteristic lack of protest that Mortefi attributes to his tiredness. “Then I’ll turn in for the night. Call me up when it’s my turn to keep watch.”
“No need. We’re quite safe here. Besides, I’m leaving my Terminal’s sensor on—it’ll alert us if there’s any threat nearby, and I’m a pretty light sleeper.”
“Mm. As am I,” Jiyan agrees, already huddling up. “Goodnight, Mortefi. You should get some rest soon too.”
“I will,” he promises. “Goodnight, Jiyan.”
It doesn’t take long for Jiyan’s breathing to even out. Mortefi’s attention is focused more on his Terminal and their surroundings than the General, but in his peripheral vision, he can see Jiyan constantly shifting restlessly in his sleep.
Mortefi spares the man just an arm’s reach away from him a worried glance. Maybe he’s still not used to the environment, he muses. He quietly walks over to Jiyan’s side, and sheds his lab coat to cover the General’s shoulders.
Jiyan stops moving around after that. Satisfied, Mortefi sits back down.
The chill of Mt. Firmament finally begins to creep up on Mortefi a little, but it’s nothing intolerable. The cave does a decent job at blocking out the frigid wind, and Mortefi is still comfortable enough to focus on his tasks. In fact, he ends up so absorbed that he doesn’t even realize the General had begun fidgeting again, and it's only when Mortefi hears the rustling of fabric unusually close to his right that he looks up from his work—
—Just in time to feel Jiyan’s head resting on his shoulder.
Mortefi almost jumps. What the— He turns to his right, speechless, and finds the General pressed close to his side. Somehow, Jiyan had managed to scoot right beside him while completely asleep.
This man—Jiyan, you…
He slowly exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. Luckily, Jiyan isn’t awake to feel his racing pulse.
If you were still so cold, you should’ve just told me…idiot.
He tries to gingerly move away and put some distance between them without the other man noticing. But Jiyan chooses that exact moment to let out a content hum, and moves in even closer.
…
Mortefi gives up.
There’s no way he’s getting any work done when the General is sleeping against his entire arm. With a long exhale, he uses his other hand to carefully put down the Terminal and take off his glasses. (He can’t keep them in their usual pocket since Jiyan has his coat, so he leaves them neatly folded on the floor.)
The wind outside howls distantly. His gaze slides to the General, who is close enough for Mortefi to observe in detail even without his glasses.
Jiyan’s chest rises and falls, which Mortefi can see as clearly as he feels. The fine snowflakes resting atop his teal hair are beginning to melt with their proximity to the Fusion Resonator, who lightly blows them away before they can do so. Some of the flecks land on Jiyan’s cheek, below his red eyeliner that’s slightly smeared at the end of the day.
Mortefi absently counts Jiyan’s long eyelashes, watching the tiny crystals of ice on them slowly melt as his own eyes gradually flutter shut.
(When Jiyan wakes up and finds Mortefi’s head leaning against his, he makes no mention of it, instead choosing to close his eyes and pretend to be asleep.
All he wishes for is to stay like this a while longer—in the warmth of the melting snow.)