Chapter Text
There are many things that can be synonymous with the Trailblaze, as Dan Heng has come to learn. Contrary to what most who are not familiar with the path believe, however, modes of travel are but a means to Trailblaze, rather than being synonymous with it.
Flying is one of those means.
Falling, is a consequence of that particular mean.
Dan Heng has seen Caelus fall many times. He is no stranger to Caelus’ antics, nor is he a stranger to the variability of the universe—the many things that are left to chance and coincidence. Dan Heng would not say he’s quick to blame or quick to anger, but he is quick to release, elastic with his movements as he darts towards his targets, and ricocheting off his surroundings if his mark is not at first made.
He’s efficient as Himeko and Welt describe, but a majority of the time it’s him who wishes to meet their expectations.
“The port is collapsing!”
Dan Heng swings his body from where he had wedged Cloudpiercer into the side of a wall and launches himself forward, sweeping up another falling Cloud Knight before they could disappear into the artificial sky below. He’s sure they’ll be fine with the multitude of safety measures installed even if they do fall, but landing from such a distance is a pain in and of itself if not oriented correctly.
And from how this Cloud Knight’s limbs flail in Dan Heng’s hold before he sets them down on the other side of the bridge, they’re not quite experienced enough to make that landing yet.
Dan Heng doesn’t see the need to recall Cloudpiercer to his side as he turns his gaze back to the crumbling tower on the opposite platform. There’s Artisanship Commission craftsmen running past him and screaming, eager to get out of danger while the Cloud Knights direct their escape route.
A rogue Starskiff, and judging from the speed of impact there had been a military grade jade-wheel modification performed on it, had crashed into one of the high towers in Stargazer Navalia. The exact number of people affected is still unknown—the amount of injuries and possible casualties—but he knows that Caelus had been up in that tower to launch his surveillance cycrane at the request of the Realm’s Keeping Commission.
He’d been on the highest floor when the starskiff crashed, and there was still no sign of him emerging. There wasn’t an explosion, just a massive blowout that had resulted in accelerating debris being hurled towards the ground, but the tower has already leaned too much to one side. There is no hope of stabilizing it, so the Cloud Knights are hoping to evacuate everyone they are able to before the entire tower collapses.
“My fur!”
“Keep going!”
“Everybody to the evacuation starskiffs!”
A knight grabs at Dan Heng’s shoulder, jerking Dan Heng’s attention away from the tower roughly. Dan Heng heeds him no mind, gritting his teeth as he tenses his muscles. “The scale of the aftershock can’t be determined and we’re too close, we must evacuate.”
Dan Heng has seen Caelus fall many times.
In a sense that makes him lucky—lucky that he even has the chance to witness it. Lucky that he even knows when, how, where, and why it is that Caelus is falling. Just the simple notion of knowing is better than the alternative.
He doesn’t know if he could ever live with the alternative.
Even without the full context, broken memories are enough to evoke certain emotions, and those foreign emotions linger long after a nightmare has passed, as though they were his own when they could be further from what he is. His body is a vessel, his mind is a fortress, and they carry a legacy into the future. He is Dan Heng, but what he carries into the future along with his own legend, is Dan Feng’s past.
Dan Feng’s accomplishments, his sins, his atonement.
His regrets.
The tower leans until it buckles. A damaged and disfigured starskiff is the first to fall from the top floor. And then it’s followed by more debris. And finally, a limp figure.
Dan Heng throws the sputtering Cloud Knight off him and lunges forward.
You are lucky to even witness him as he falls.