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Chapter Text

In one hand was an empty cup of wine, in the other was the handle of an oil paper umbrella.

The archon sat on the edge of a cliff, paying no mind to the damp yet empty cave right behind him. It was a suitable shelter for such weather, yet he remained seated right where he was.

All around him was an endless torrent of rain, one that hadn't let up for the half an hour he spent on the edge of this very cliff. The sound of rain pitter-pattering against the umbrella he held served to calm his mind, yet hints of melancholy were evident in his eyes.

The war had been dragging on for years, yet it showed no signs of letting up. Rex Lapis had thus made peace with the fact that a separation may not always be indefinite. An "until next time" may unknowingly be a "goodbye", and a "goodbye" could, in reality, be a warning. A warning that your paths may cross once more, but this time on opposing sides of the battlefield.

Through the onslaught of rain, auburn eyes squinted as they faced the sky. A white silhouette, a stark contrast when superimposed against the dark skies, gracefully flew away. The sole purpose was to create a distance between herself and the archon. How big did she wish for this distance to be? It didn't matter, as long as she could no longer see the archon when she subconsciously looked back.

That philosophy was engraved in the mind of the archon, yet deep down, he held hope. Deep within his heart, the smallest, most pitiful ray of hope was being cultivated; that their paths would cross once more.

The umbrella handle slipped from his hand, landing leisurely on the stone beside him. With his now free hand, Rex Lapis picked up a porcelain wine jar, pouring whatever few drops that remained into the cup.

In place of savouring that last drops of wine his close friend had made herself, he inverted the cup, watching as the wine merged with the rainwater that fell from the cliff.

This wine, spilt in her honour, would carry away any remaining melancholy. Along with this wine, that would flow with the rain and merge with the earth only to be soon forgotten, he feared the day that the memories of his time spent with her would follow.

And though the memories may fade, converging and twisting into a foggy blur within his mind, the moments will be cherished. The emotions will be cherished.

The wine cup in the hands of the archon was placed near the edge of the cliff. As he stood up, making his way down the mountain, the umbrella rolled about, shielding the cup from the downpour.

For now, it would remain empty. It would remain empty for many years to come.

It had been two millenia, yet this memory still shone brightly in the mind of the now ex-archon.

Chapter Text

A dark, damp cave. From the entrance, not even light seeped in. The downpour taking place outside did not make for the best sight, but with time one could learn that guessing when the next raindrop would fall by the cave's entrance proved to be rather entertaining.

Hazy sky, dark clouds, and something close to absolute silence. The atmosphere was one worth indulging in, which was exactly what the dragon resting within the cave had been doing for a while now.

Time was an elusive concept, and this dragon had yet to get a proper grasp on it. How long had he been resting in this cave undisturbed, the only fluctuating factor in his life being the change of seasons? He did not know.

A huff escaped his nose. If lazing around was the only thing he could do, lazing around was exactly what he would do. Deftly, the dragon had adjusted his position, body curling around itself as he lay his head on his short arms. He closed his eyes, appreciating the sound of falling raindrops.

Even through the thick, foggy clouds that obscured one's view of the sky, anyone could note that the day was ending. Everything, everyday was a constant .Today as well was just a constant, an experience devoid of events worth being written in any history book. It was as if the dragon's entire life was a cycle; a never-ending one.

Right, that day should have been just another constant. The dragon's heightened senses had not been used for much aside from sensing nearby crystal flies. Now, he quickly grew wary as the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps resonated near the cave, slowly growing closer to the entrance. The first thing he could think to do was remain immobile, act as if consciousness was a thing he'd recently lost. In the few moments where he was "asleep", he could scope out the intentions of this potential intruder.

"Ah....this...ridiculous. I could ...the clear...from ...morning was meant....auspicious!" The sound of a voice, a woman's voice, infiltrated the cave. Despite the previously mentioned "heightened senses," the conveyed sentence, one that came out as a bemoan, still ended up relayed as a broken one. The sound of rain echoing within the cave paired with this person's panting, indicating that they had been sprinting for a while, affected how much of these complaints could properly be evinced.

Very soon, the mysterious figure had set foot in the cave. The serene sound of rain colliding with the stone floor quickly being overshadowed by the sounds of light pants, the sudden variable setting off the dragon within. He moved once more, slowly backing up into a corner of the cave, hoping that he could be fully obscured by the shadows. Just stay still. That way he will not be noticed...

The voice of the offending woman resonated once more, now far clearer than it had been at any point prior. Perhaps she had finally caught her breath. "Judging by how hard it's coming down, the rain won't let up for a while, will it?"

Her voice was light, a delicate whisper. Although this was not something that the dragon usually cared for much, he couldn't help noting that her very voice seemed terribly refined.

Had the dragon not known any better, he might have even believed that she was taking the presence of another being in consideration. Of course, that was not possible. She had yet to notice any other lifeforms in the cave.

Not another word left the lips of this sophisticated-sounding lady. Out of curiosity, the dragon cracked its eyes open. Just a crack, there was no way this visitor would notice. He was sure of it.

The sight taken in was slightly unclear, but certain details could be noted. A small figure, someone who would be far smaller than this mighty dragon, stood upright. She looked a terrible lot liked one of those "humans" he had gotten a few glances at. Her body was draped in long robes⁺, robes that were sullied by the ends. Most likely because of the rain.

A bed of [Hair Colour] hair came in view. It was tied up and bunched together haphazardly at the back of her head. When she raised her head, she also lifted an arm to tip one end of the hat she wore upward. It was a hat weaved with bamboo with a veiled that reached a little past her knees. Though a bit transparent, the veil still obscured a majority of this woman's features. She seemed to be observing the sky.

Finally, what was most notable was the large bundle of light green cloth that she carried in her arms, delicately. It was longer than it was large, confusing the dragon. It was definitely an object wrapped in cloth, perhaps to be protected from the rain. The question was, just what was it that this person carried so, seeming to value it more than she did herself?

This intruder took a knee, placing the bundle of cloth that she carried about on the floor. Her low mumbles could be deciphered as worries about whether wood would rot after being exposed to such weather. Wood, exposed to the rain for but a few moments, rotting? That was a story that the dragon had never heard of before, inadvertently letting out a breath of ridicule. He then closed his eyes, nuzzling his head further into his two short arms.

His attention was taken, however, when the sound of footsteps fearlessly venturing further into the cave resonated through the small area.

An extremely shallow cave, that was what it was. It could only serve to hide one dragon and the dragon that occupied it could hardly hide the entirety of its form in shadows.

This fact, paired with the sound that the dragon made earlier, only now realizing that said sound had sealed his demise, led him to predict what would happen next. He quietly prepared himself to hear a scream of horror, or rapid footsteps scrambling for the cave's sole doorway. How else would someone as frail looking as her react?

Instead, a shiver ran down his spine. Something unrecognizable met his mane. Fingers ran through the hair that surrounded the top of his head, eventually laying motionless on one of his horns.

The dragon found it hard to stay immobile. How dare someone simply waltz into what he claimed as his territory, only to mindlessly feel him up? This was an offense, and offense of the highest calibre. This person would need to earn her lesson.

Her voice suddenly rang out, unexpectedly low and unexpectedly close. Just by sound alone, the dragon could determine that she had brought herself impossibly close to his head. "A Lóng⁰...? No, aren't you rather peculiar? You also seem a terrible lot like a Qilin¹. Which one is it?"

"Hm, four claws²?" The woman's voice grew a bit in distance. A peak to his side told him that this mystery maiden had taken a seat by his side. How bold of her. "So you're nothing special, huh?"

He held back a puff of irritation.

The conversation, or once-sided rant, steered in an unexpected direction. For some reason, this unwanted guest began recounting a story about the very first time she had encountered one of these mystical beasts, a Qilin. Something about misunderstandings and stubbornness. Now, she'd been actively avoiding a certain plain in hopes of avoiding this newfound enemy of hers. "It's been a while since I've seen one of you be acting so docile", she claimed.

Though her voice remained levelled, her storytelling was something worthy of admiration. She conveyed emotions through words quite well, a part of this being thanks to her extensive vocabulary. The setting would have been far more respectable, however, had the guest not believed that the dragon was unconscious. It also would have been more remarkable; had she not been playing with the dragon's mane as she saw fit. Despite these complaints, said dragon did not have the energy to retaliate.

"I heard that dragons could be classed into groups. You're definitely not any sort of treasure-hoarding dragon. This cave can hardly fit a single person." The woman joked, though the butt of the joke did not receive it well. At all. "Unless you're so extremely magnanimous that you gave away all your gold. Wow, so admirable, mister Lóng. Do you have anything left to give this poor traveller? It has been days since she's last had a proper meal, one that didn't consist of berries and wild boar meat with a fifty-fifty chance of giving food poisoning. Boohoo, don't you pity me, my magnanimous friend?"

The dragon huffed in negation. Oddly enough, this self-proclaimed "traveller" seemed to have understood him. A dejected sound left her lips.

Almost immediately, however, she returned to her relentless pestering. "Are you sure? I heard that many dragons were auspicious. Are you perchance one of these great, revolutionary dragons?"

This time, the dragon remained silent. No ridiculing huff, no visible agitation. No nothing.

The reason was simple; this mighty dragon was not sure of exactly what it was.

Silence reigned within the cave, the previous words of this energetic guest resonating within the dragon's mind.

"Wow... You live such a sad life, mister Lóng." The other lamented, her voice lowering to a whisper. "Next time I go begging around the village, I will be sure to mention your unfortunate circumstances. I will throw away my dignity for the both of us, so do not fret. I'll return with a meal fit for someone such as yourself."

Once more, the dragon could no longer be bothered to answer any of these pesky remarks. This conversation was enough to exhaust him, and so he nuzzled further into his arms. His patience was, however, running thin.

This newfound guest was rather persistent, however. She of course noticed the foul mood the dragon was in, her every word worsening it considerably, yet she refused to relent.

"Dear almighty dragon, do you have a name with which you could grace this feeble, insignificant maiden?" The glower that this self-proclaimed maiden received was enough to make her expression fall. She claimed to be many things, didn't she?

The dragon regularly shot looks to the maiden by his side, yet nothing changed. The veil of her bamboo hat still obscured her face, only allowing him to get occasional peeks at her cheeky smile. The dragon's eyes seemed to narrow at this.

"Please do not misunderstand. I don't wish to sully this sacred name of yours, I would never even entertain such ridiculous thoughts. See, I'm a firm believer in the idea of good and bad karma. Insulting a dragon would take away any of the merits³ I painstakingly collected up until now."

This woman was also quite the conversationalist. Had anyone ever given her that title? If not, a certain senile dragon might have to be the first to let her know.

"I'm simply curious. I promise, I would never use your name in vain."

What was that saying again? «A demonstration was worth more than a thousand words»? Probably not, but it was of no consequence. The dragon answered this sudden question with silence.

The witty maiden caught on. "Wow. You poor, poor dragon... Literally and figuratively. I first thought that you had retired from any worldly matters, being above materialism. But now, you're just giving off the energy of a hermit."

The maiden could not avoid the harsh look the dragon had sent her, cracking one of his eyes open and staring her down. To do this, he had to lift his head a bit, most of the traveller's face still being obscured by her veil.

Finally, she stopped talking. All that talk about "never insulting a dragon in fear of losing all collected merits " was a pile of garbage.

This exchange took place over the span of ten minutes. The dragon was beyond devastated when he had learned from the maiden that the downpour would go on for an additional half an hour, potentially an entire hour. He was stuck in this miniscule cave for the next half an hour with this blabbermouth of a traveller. What could be any worse than that?

Despite the grievances expressed by the dragons, he listened to every slowly spoken word that this woman shared with him. Perhaps it was in hopes of hearing another one of her tall tales, but he was soon disappointed. The maiden by his side claimed that no story should be told twice, nor should any story be told within the same conversation as another. In her eyes, stories were what made a being, and to sully a story was akin to sullying the very existence of whomever was commemorated through these tales. Clearly, she held them in high regards.

How she accurately guessed the dragon's thoughts, he didn't know. Did she have the ability to read minds? What a peculiar human.

Constants were something that had made up the life of this century-old dragon. Variables appearing within the life of this exalted being was something he had prepared for long ago, which was how he knew how to not react in this situation.

All variables would, at some point, take their leave. His life would then return a simple, one. A static life.

Change was a fickle thing. The moment someone got used to a certain "change", it would become a constant. If an unwanted factor inserted itself into someone's life, it was always dealt with thoroughly. Something as fickle as being serenaded by a storyteller, a very eccentric one at that, would obviously be one of these variables. The dragon was convinced that someone such as her would walk out of his life with her own to feet.

"The rain's stopped." The woman announced. She stood up, doing what the dragon assumed was stretching, with a loud yawn. A satisfied hum left her lips as she tapped the top of the dragon's head, right before his mane. The gesture was not welcome, yet the dragon seemed to have gotten used to it.

Yet, clear curiosity grew within this dragon. Just who was this unexpected visitor? Her ventures with a rare mythical beast that roamed the land also gave away the fact that she clearly was not normal. Despite his suspicions, he couldn't put his finger on exactly who, or what she could be...

The moment the feeling of delicate fingers caressing the dragon's scales vanished, he cracked his eyes open. He had just grown familiar with the sensation, yet he was already made to bid it adieu.

He observed as this mysterious maiden leisurely walked out of the cave without another word, robes fluttering in the occasional puffs of wind. Silence filled the cave once more, and the dragon returned to his stagnant lifestyle. This memory wouldn't be labelled as anything special. Just one of the multiple odd encounters he would live through in his long, long life.

An immature, inexperienced being taking the shape of a chimera and an elusive, storytelling traveller. What an odd combination.

Of their umpteen future encounters, this was but their very first.

Chapter Text

Right. That fleeting meeting should have been their last.

Unexpected visits from this very maiden should not have become apart of his everyday schedule. The day after their first meeting, she appeared by his doorstep before disappearing without another word. From then, she appeared the following day, and the one that followed, and the one that...

Long story short, the time spent in the dragon's cave had become the maiden's lull. She dropped by for a few hours, entertained herself, and left without another word. Her visits were apart of the dragon's daily schedule; he found himself expecting them. It was a few months into this arrangement, that something truly noteworthy took place.

As per usual, a travelling fellow waltzed her way into the cave as if she owned it. The dragon had noticed that she had a colourful closet. Despite her constant complaints about lacking the funds for provisions, she seemed to have enough to hardly wear the same outfit twice.

Lazily, she sauntered into the cave, a bamboo basket in hand. She dragged it across the rocks that made the mountain, paying no mind to whether it would rip open. She adorned green robes, light in colour and rather flowy. The sun was up in the sky for longer these days, and the weather was growing warmer. Perhaps she'd already adjusted her wardrobe for that.

"The people down in the village have been beyond euphoric these days. Is this some sort of repercussion for their delight? "Unbearable" isn't enough to detail this heat!" The woman whined, taking a seat by the dragon. She handled her basket rather aggressively, almost making it topple forward. She did, however, manage to stabilize it in time.

Through the basket peeked a large bundle of cloth. It seemed to be that mysterious object that she'd been carrying from the beginning of her journey. Through their many meetings, he had yet to even get a peek at what was inside of that preciously wrapped cloth.

He had to admit, he was rather curious about what secrets she concealed. However, if expressing this curiosity would inevitably lead to another bout of teasing, he would rather keep it to himself. Honestly, he never thought the day would come where he would hold his tongue in fear of another being...

"Lord Dragon, do you have something on your mind?" The dragon felt rather uneasy with the way the maiden seemed able do discern each of his thoughts, yet it sometimes served its purpose. The two could interact in peace without the need to worry about a potential language barrier. With every conversation, the lady's "intuitive" responses only solidified his theory that she was a mind reader. There was no other plausible explanation.

"Oh, my, mister Lóng, are you drowsy? Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?" Well, that theory crumbled. The dragon didn't bother entertaining his companion's antics. He wanted her to get the hint, that he wasn't enjoying her useless commentary one bit. Yet, his silence seemed to enable her chatty nature instead.

"Unfortunate, honestly. I've been informed that my singing voice was... Less than pleasant. I don't think you want a tone-deaf person to sing you a lullaby..." The dragon's thoughts drifted off to menial topics. If he overwrote the sound of her voice with something else, maybe he'd be able to grasp some semblance of peace. A train of thought was something the dragon hardly engaged in, yet for the past few months, he's been contemplating too many things for too long for his liking.

Yet like a saving grace, a source of salvation, a slow harmonious hum resonated through the cave. It was a low sound. It resembled nothing like the fleeting strums the dragon had once heard, no. It was far more refined than that.

Each note seemed to be prolonged, their very vibrations reaching the dragon's core. A beautiful melody that heightened his senses, the sounds of nature coming from outside the cave merging and creating a symphony with the musician's work.

The dragon had mixed feelings. He had yet to scope out any of the other's facial features, and he especially regretted not being able to get a glimpse at her expression in this very moment. Yet now, as a pleasant aria whistled its way into his ears, the dragon found his closed eyelids to be a great source of solace.

His eyes were gently shut, fearing that, should he open them, the waves of pleasure that crashed against his conscience would return to their usual rhythm. As if this tide would return to its old pattern. A stagnant static.

This pleasure would, of course, also disappear should another person rip it straight from his claws. That was exactly what happened.

A piercing shriek forced the dragon to snap his eyes open. Just like any of the other notes played by his musician companion, this cry bounced off the walls. The sound reminded one of the constant howls of the beasts around the mountain, or the few vagabonds in search of a metaphorical rope to grab onto.

A small "oops" left the supple lips of the maiden. The dragon didn't even bother glancing at her, knowing that she definitely wore a dopey grin on her face.

"I didn't snap a string, did I...? I can't afford replacements!" Despite the words of worry expressed by the maiden, her voice held no sort of urgency. Curiosity got the best of him and slowly, he adverted his gaze to his right. There, she sat cross-legged, bamboo hat and veil both in place, still doing a thorough job at obscuring her face. Regrettable, really.

In front of said maiden was a large light green cloth. It lay on the stone, having been thrown haphazardly. A clear display of him much the maiden cared for the textile. The dragon was slow to notice, but he also took note of the fact that the light green of said cut of fabric was coordinated with the color of her robes. She acted overbearingly irksome in all senses, yet whenever it came to what she wore, she seemed to develop a conscience. Huh.

"Oh! It's come to me, the greatest breakthrough yet!" The woman exclaimed, her clear excitement ending in a thud and a slight creak. She'd allowed the instrument she'd just been playing to fall from her lap and straight onto the green patterned cloth, as if she hadn't a care in the world for whether it broke. He watched as her attention quickly drifted from one belonging to another and suddenly, she was nose-deep in her bamboo basket. She began searching for a few materials, rather aggressively at that.

"Why the long face, lord Dragon? You fix me with a gaze that would make anyone believe that I had murdered one of your kin. Or is this about some other matter?" Even if her words indicated that her attention was fully on the dragon, her gaze remained fixed on whatever was within the endless pit that was her bamboo basket. "Or do you believe that I've lied to you? Don't worry, mister Lóng. I have sustenance to back my assumption."

"Ah, I did imply that I was tone-deaf, did I not? Worry not, it only applies to my singing. I'm actually a professional when it comes to handling instruments- Hey, stop giving me that look." Here words were met with eyes expressing clear disbelief. A small sigh left her lips, and the woman returned to her cross-legged position. In front of her now lay many instruments for calligraphy. Paper scrolls, ink as well as different sized paint brushed. Where had she gotten all this material, if her funds were as scarce as she claimed them to be?

"I visited a few associates of mine, as they'd weaved some fabric. It was promised to me in exchange for a problem of theirs that I'd solved- Malevolent spirits seemed to have taken a liking to their waters." The storytelling, although unexpected, was far from unwelcome. "I stayed back a little more after that, and they seemed to love my musical compositions! Yet the moment I opened my mouth to get out a few lyrics, they all dove back into the water, praying that the deep seas would "save them from this onslaught of disorderly notes". I've merely stuck to humming sounds from there on out, as it seems my good will wasn't appreciated... And I thought the Jiao Ren were sensible. Hmph."

The dragon's tune was immediately readjusted. He hadn't even imagined being lulled to sleep, by her no less, yet now he was sure that he wouldn't ever entertain the thought. He was curious, however. The Jiao Ren inhabited the south, it was a known fact, yet the dragon was sure that this mountain range was in the north-west. Just how long ago had she visited these people?

The gentle fluttering of a white veil quickly knocked all these thoughts out of his mind. The upper half of her face was still shielded by the veil, yet the opposing half was now in clear view. Her lips were curved into a radiant smile, though not exaggerated. It was pleasant to look at, at least.

"A dormant dragon, the unexpected adventures that lie ahead and his courage whilst facing these challenges... Wouldn't that be popular with the townspeople? How much do you think I could... Oh, come on! I'm not just sticking to you for lucrative purposes! Here, to prove my honesty, I'll offer you a thirty five percent share of whatever I make, as you are my muse. Eh? How does that sound? Tempting, right?"

Replying was useless. He mentally cast out the woman's low complaints about being ignored in favor of watching as she slowly wrote a few characters upon her crumpled rolls of paper.

But, what in the world was she writing? It seemed like a mix of some made up symbols and random drawings of plants found within the foliage. This... "Language", if that's even what it could be called, has never been seen or spoken of. It left even a great being such as a dragon beyond confused.

"Plagiarism is running rampant these days, like some sort of bad flu. I made up a code to fight off anyone trying to steal my work. Watch closely, mister Lóng. Make sure to remember these characters, because it gets even more complicated from here."

The dragon didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He was rather impressed by her dedication to this craft, "storytelling". Never had he met someone devoted enough develop a set of symbols that were comprehensible to none but themselves.

And so, just as he was advised, he carefully watched each of her movements, taking in this utter tomfoolery in an attempt to make sense of it. In the end, the dragon let out a jeer in the form of a ridiculing puff of golden air. This absurd lady managed to offer him a moment of respite. He was all but manhandled into acknowledging the gratifying decadence of her hymn, and slowly, he had been tuned to be played however the other saw fit. How she seamlessly weaseled her way into the dragon's mind, he did not know.

He watched as she swiped her brush in a calculated manner, watched as she held the brush near her lips and brainstormed ideas. He watched as she stared mindlessly outside, not a single thought in her head as she prayed for a sudden stroke of inspiration. He even watched as she picked up her instrument and experimented with a few melodies. Despite their soothing nature, she claimed that they were all "mediocre", and that they were "low-effort", each lacking individuality. Claimed that they lacked any semblance of life.

And finally, he watched as she leaned back, weight shifting onto the palm of her hands. The dragon's body coiled around the other's form, the cave not offering much in terms of space. He didn't put it past her to give her palms a break and lean against the dragon at any moment. He even considered moving to corner to avoid it, however he played it off as unnecessary and not worth the effort.

Silence reigned within the cave, a rare occurrence. The cave had become much livelier these past weeks because of a certain someone. Because of that, moments such as there were few and far between, yet worth savoring.

""There had been no such thing as a "climax" for this being. When the string snaps, now but a sign of misfortune, only then with "fate" be set in stone"... Passable." Yet, she made no effort to write down this "passable" line. If the dragon put two and two together, going off of her previous complaints about nothing clicking together, she would probably discard this line as well. She seemed to be extremely picky whenever it came to writing.

"Yet these snapped strands have a purpose to serve." She went on. "As actions are recorded and slowly corrode, becoming "history", a once undeterminable future will turn into the present . With that, challenges once viewed as impossible to surmount will resemble mere stepping stones. Now, the virtue of patience must be put into practice, and we will wait until the ink sets."

The dragon grew more and more curious with each word. She no longer seemed to just be spitting out text to use. What was she trying to imply?

And once more, the girl's uncanny ability of reading the dragon's thoughts was put into play. She grinned, turning her head to the side.

"It means that I'll be by your side" It was such an unexpected setting, and such an unconventional situation. The dragon couldn't even muster the ability to be shocked when a pair of [Eye Color] eyes locked with his. They held a certain wit mixed in with slyness, yet they were glazed over by a soft altruism. This gaze, paired with her smile, nearly made the dragon completely forget about all their encounters prior to this moment. All that was left was this moment. "Until my ink sets. I may stay the night, mister Lóng."

Chapter Text

As seasons pass, the sweltering heat turned into a pleasant breeze. This breeze shifted into unbearable cold, and the cold transformed into a once familiar scene; hundred of water droplets falling to the ground in admirable harmony. A recreation of the day they'd met.

Abiding by their usual arrangement, the now-familiar maiden took her seat near the dragon's tail. And over the span of just a few minutes, she had already made herself more than comfortable. All over the rocky floor of the cave lay an endless number of scrolls and stray papers, thrown about in a haphazard manner. Yet, somehow, in all this mess, the maiden in a bamboo hat still managed to be productive. It was rather impressive.

Today's weather was unique. The sun was partially out and occasionally hidden by the clouds. There were a few waves of heat, though they weren't anything extreme. People wandered about as usual, their mannerisms more bland than anything. It was normal. Normal was a term the dragon had forsaken for a long time. That was why, compared to all other days, something about today in particular felt... off. Yet he couldn't pinpoint exactly what he was feeling.

To brush off these obscure thoughts, the dragon moved his gaze in an attempt at finding something else that could enrapture his attention. His eyes remained glued on a pair of light grey pants. They were loose, yet didn't dare go under the pitch-black sandals of the one wearing said pants.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes landing on someone's back. A top, resembling a traditional one, composed of plum purple, gold and light lavender, caught his attention. Over it, the veiled bamboo hat served as a thin film, lightly blurring the designs that imitated the swirling of bamboo leaves, resting on the woman's top.

The outfit was a remix on a traditional robe, giving more space to move about and seemed far more comfortable than the usual long, layered robes the other wore. It gave off the vibe that she was in her own abode, trying to finish a piece by the deadline.

The bamboo hat was soon removed and the woman fixed up her posture, raising herself from her previous position that forced her to hunch over the paper on which she wrote. Whatever she was writing didn't seem to be coming together. Her eyebrows furrowed, one of her nails tapping on the edge of the thin, wooden paintbrush she held.

The dragon watched as said paintbrush was dropped and abandoned in stead of grabbing the instrument she'd introduced earlier, and everything unfolded as usual. For a while, she experimented with compositions she had written down, complained that they had no harmony, tweaked it, tried again, complained once more, and eventually dropped the entire beat.

And as per usual, she turned her head around, an impatient scowl on her lips, eyes finally landing on the quiet dragon who simply observed this foolery of hers. His eyes flickered upwards for a moment before dropping once more. Despite it being a few weeks, he hadn't gotten used to seeing the same eyes he'd sought out for many months.

Even as his eyes remained glued on the ground, the dragon felt the other's gaze burning through him. And finally, she spoke, "Mister lóng, what do you dragons do?"

"Whenever I walk into this cave, you're always lounging about. You resemble a bedridden, aged man than you do a high and mighty dragon."

Her unseeming taunts were things that the dragon had gotten used to, and even if hints of genuity slipped through her words, the dragon could also be petty if he wished. If she was going to ask him such questions in such a tone, why would he answer?

The maiden's pestering persisted, her voice holding the same patience and clarity as it always has. It was almost as if she was announcing that she wouldn't mind going on this back and forth all day.

Now, the dragon had an excuse. He couldn't speak her language in this form, and true, he could simply switch forms, answer her question, and make her shut up. However, ...

He raised his gaze, eyes landing on the other once more. Her fingers toyed with a jade yaopei⁰ that hung from her belt. The strings lay limp in her hands, mingling between the cracks of her fingers.

Without a doubt, if he were to reveal yet another "cool" trick to this woman, she wouldn't let him live it down. It would do the dragon more harm than good.

The sound of wood clattering against the rocky floor caught the dragon's attention. The instrument now lay beside the paper scrolls. Said scrolls, still wet with ink, left black patches on the white string of the instruments' bow. It was just now that the dragon noticed that this wasn't the only odd patch on said string. Perhaps she'd repeated this process more than once.

With no shame, the woman leaned against the dragon's scaly body. She extended her legs, crossing one ankle over the other and turned her head away from the dragon. Her free hand reached out to grab her bamboo hat, throwing it over her already invisible face.

"Mister lóng, what stories do you have for me?" Her voice came out muffled, both because of her low tone and the hat that served to obstruct her speech. "Maybe that way, I'll get some kind of inspiration."

Instead of an answer, the artist received a thousand-yard stare from the dragon. His eyes stayed stuck on the other for a while before eventually, he turned away, resting his head on his clawed hands.

The maiden, however, wasn't one to remain silent for long. "I also had no talent for playing instruments."

The sentence was random; so out of context in this setting, that the dragon couldn't help but pay attention to this seemingly offhand comment. Yet another thing he found bizarre about this day.

The maiden's head was still turned away from the dragon. However, one of her arms moved, raising just enough for her to cover her eyes with her forearm. She sat like that for a while before turning her head back, staring at the blank ceiling.

"I gave up on singing at some point, so I just decided to try instruments." A dry laugh escaped the confine of her lips. "Yet, unlike singing, even I knew how terrible I was at playing."

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if considering whether this "story" was one worth telling. Hesitance. Something that was out of the ordinary when it came to her.

"I intermittently switched instruments. In short, I never stuck to just one. A few years back, I was walking by a nearly deserted village. Just gaining their trust took months." Her head swayed back and forth. It almost seemed as if she were dozing off. "They lived so close together, I never even imagined that I would be able to weave myself into their little society. So finally achieving that goal was... Unexpectedly fun."

She paused. The silence in the cave was palpable, making the dragon only now realize just how unsettling it was. He shifted in place, curling his body about as if to press the other to get back to her storytelling.

"They were always hard at work. Always busy preparing for the next season. During spring, collecting provisions for winter was on their mind. During winter, preparing for the fall harvest was their goal. Through fall, finding ways to welcome traveler during summer was the vision. I thought that, maybe, if I was already an interruption in this fix schedule of theirs, I could fit in a fun thing or two."

It began with teaching the younger kids, when they weren't helping their parents, how to blow through grass. This irritated the parents to the point where they threatened to plow entire lawns, should the children keep it up. Then came fallen leaves, how to compose mediocre melodies with whatever leaf you could find on the ground. The maiden got blamed when the children got back home, clothes looking as if they spent the entire day rolling about in the dirt.

She needed something more sophisticated. Something that could amuse both adults and children alike yet wouldn't have her name brought up in any arguments. So, the next stop was the carpenter.

The carpenter in this village was a little like her. He liked toying around and experimenting with whatever he could get his hands on. It was only when he offered the maiden some lodging and faced the consequences of his actions that he acknowledged how irritating that sort of person could be.

"He travelled about to keep business steady, going to other small villages and even larger towns. He brought back, introduced and even learned to craft a multitude of instruments. Even his son was amazed by it." A small chuckle left her lips. "One day, I asked for him let me rent any of the instruments he makes. I wanted to test them out."

And he did. He let her try out whatever instrument she wanted to try out. She was quick learner, able to grasp the basics in but a few weeks, and in the span of a few months, she played well enough to entertain any who wished to be entertained.

There was, however, a little downside. This musician of theirs was unusually careless. It didn't take much for an instrument to break, which then led to her growing tired of playing it. Every other month, she switched through personal instruments, mastering one, and then another, and then another, as if it were a full-time job. Because of this, she never had the time to truly concentrate on enjoying and mastering one instrument.

"Hence my earlier comment. To rectify, however... It would be best to say that I have the necessary talent, but no passion when it comes to instruments." The woman sat up, relieving the dragon of the pressure that pressed against his body. "This one is the most recent one I've gotten."

Her fingers motioned to the oddly shaped instrument that she'd been carrying about in a cloth for a long while. She elaborated, "This was also one of the things I planned on renting."

"Yet, seemingly a nickname had been passed through the village. "The eye of the storm", they called me. Lacked originality but gets the point across. I broke so many instruments, and my debt piled up so high that in the end, I got this one sold to me to a cheap price, the only condition being that if I break it, I would have to repair it myself."

Sometime during this storyline, the maiden's playful spark returned. Honestly, the dragon wasn't even sure when it had disappeared, but now, as he felt the air in the damp cave lighten up, he was truly able to compare the earlier mood to the current one.

"A low blow on my dignity, it was." A sigh sounded from the woman. "But a freebie is a freebie! Why would I, as dire as my situation was, dare to refuse such an offer?"

The dragon could only huff, adjusting his head so that his seating position revealed no signs of his earlier curiosity. If she was back to normal, there was no need to feed her anything she could tease him over.

"Hey, mister lóng, do you want to hear me play again?" She asked, eyes still unfocused, yet they were still clear as day. Per usual, the dragon didn't answer, instead allowing the other to draw her own conclusions.

After a while of staring, she let out a laugh with no real amusement behind it.  In that case, I'll be sure to hang on to this. When we meet again, I'll be sure to have the perfect piece to play for you. Would you look at that, I feel all motivated again!"

There it was again. The snippets of uncanny words or actions coming from the maiden. With those sentences, her playfulness seemed to vanish for a second, only re-appearing when she cracked a joke by the end. This time around, the dragon couldn't just brush it off. He twisted his body, eyeing the maiden as if that would expose all her secrets to him in one go.

All whilst turning away, the other went on, "Hm, what was it again... Erhu¹, I believe. Right, the guy called this one an erhu."

Erhu. Subconsciously, the dragon stored that name in the back of his mind.

The maiden leaned forward, crossing her legs and resting her chin in the palm of her hand. She stared off into space, watching as the outside grew considerably darker. The dragon heard her mumble in a low voice, "I wonder, what was the carpenter named again?"

Remembering the past wasn't always easy nor pleasant, so the dragon didn't bother paying any mind to her words. Especially not when she went on again and again, asking herself the name of the children she once played with, the young mothers that would label her as a bad influence in front of their children and the older ladies that gave her more food than she knew what to do with. Her next question was formulated along the lines of what the name of that village was in the first place, yet she cut herself off.

She remained silent, head slightly downcast as she covered the lower half of her face with her hand. The way she didn't dare finish that question almost gave the dragon the impression that she would feel ashamed of herself, should she let the winds carry her whisper, then exposing her carelessness to the world; herself included.

She turned back, locking eyes with those of the dragon. "Say, mister lóng. What is your name?"

And with that one sentence, the dragon was brought back to one rainy night nine months ago. He lay peacefully in silence, basking in the pleasant atmosphere offered by his cave. Yet he couldn't ignore the figure in green who stood just ahead of him, absolutely drenched, yet who still stood as elegantly as ever.

Now, she bore purple and grey, staring up at the cave with an absentminded look, as if the wandering spirits of the world will mumble secrets by her side and ease the burden that now weighed on her shoulders.

Once again, she leaned back against the dragon's long body. This time, though, she turned to face him, arms cradling most of her face, yet her eyes still bore through him. "Or is it that the name that you currently possess... You don't want me uttering it?"

They narrowed. He could both see and hear her growing smile.

"If so, it's only appropriate if I delegate you your own title. How does that sound..."

She paused, eyelashes lowering and face falling in thought. The dragon, at first, thought that her words were but a joke. However, as the seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, he grew to realize that she was serious. She honestly, genuinely, was thinking of a name to give him.

Pitter-patter.

The droplets of rain that feel from outside the cave let their presence be known. Their ever-growing and relentless fall playing a considerable role in letting the dragon know exactly how much time he was wasting by playing along with her games.

Some point, he was convinced that she was drifting off to sleep. There was no way it took her that long to think up of a simple name. Even she realized that it was something that only she would use to address him, no? Why bother putting in so much effort?

"...A name, huh." Her voice broke through the silence. "Names are sacred things, carried by zephyrs to be blown into the ears of others. Should that moniker no longer fall from the lips of other, would that mean that your existence matters to none other than yourself? And should you yourself forget that same moniker... Does that mean that, in reality, you've truly ceased to exist?"

"Say, mister lóng, which one do you fall into? If you're truly shielding your existence from the rest of the world, while I, a nameless, wander by your side... what does that make us?" A teasing grin rose on her lips. The woman's flair remained, yet her words carried an unusual weight that none of her other make-shift poems held.

Pitter-patter...

"...Haoran. Jian Haoran². Isn't it neat? That way, you'll be able to grow up just enough to finally leave this rancid cave." Although the extremely uncalled for comment was to be expected, the dragon couldn't help but grow offended at the sudden jab thrown at his ever-previous cave. He fixed the lady with a look.

In turn, she crossed her arms, retuning a just-as-if-not-more scrutinizing look. "Oh, so you care when I throw an insult at this cave, but don't even blink an eyelash at the name I ever so graciously offered you? Seems your priorities are in all the wrong places."

The dragon simply huffed, switching back to his favorite position; facing any direction that was away from the woman. As a way to avoid her incessant cries, the dragon pretended to drift off to sleep. For once, that technique truly worked. After the span of a minute, the maiden lowered her voice, words eventually escaping her. This was the quickest she'd silence herself, truly a record.

The dragon, who's eyes were closed, instead used his heightened senses to determine whatever it was the woman had in mind now. Eventually, he heard rustling coming from his side. Out of curiosity, he cracked his eyes open just a peek, catching the silhouette of his companion, who now stood directly in front of him.

One hand rested on the grayish lavender belt of her top, while the other busied itself with adjusting the beige bamboo hat she wore. The colours of her outfit clashed with that of her hat, making it seem a little out of place. The bearer of that very hat, however, didn't seem to mind and the dragon was sure that if he were to ask, her answer would be something along the lines of "I make it look good anyways, so there's no problem, is there?".

"Ahh, I've stayed for too long, haven't I? The rain's gotten bad. This is going to be a problem..."

The dragon stared on, watching as she moved her hands to behind her back with her sleeves dragging to cover even the tip of her fingers. Her did, however, see her fiddle around with them, one hand pulling on the fingers of the other almost playfully, almost hesitantly.

When he closed his eyes yet again, an oddly satisfying sensation resonated by the top of his head. He heard the rustling of a sleeve, smelt a mystifying fragrance, and felt lightly rough fingertips tap his head. Over the span of a few seconds, this hand grew considerably bolder, pushing forward until the dragon felt the palm of the maiden's hand invade his mane.

It was an unruly action. Even if the two had known one another for a few months, that couldn't at all be considered long enough for her to see herself fit of doing such a thing. Yet, no matter what the dragon told himself in his head, he didn't move to stop her. He didn't even open his eyes and evaluate what sort of expression the other could be wearing.

He feared that if he did so now, he would uncover what exactly pushed the maiden to act so unlike herself.

Seconds seemed to pass quicker than they ever had. The dragon could no longer determine how long the two allowed themselves to indulge in this bizarre desire of theirs.

Pitter-patter.

"Hoaran. When I come back, I'll be able to see what you've achieved through the titles you collect with time, no?" This question was clearly one directed at the dragon, yet he couldn't help but feel as if she were speaking to a different person entirely. As if she hoped that these "titles" didn't seep into the identity she'd bestowed him with.

"...Right. I'm leaving now. I'll see you soon."

But what defined "soon"?

Yet another sentence that sounded ominous when they rolled off the maiden's tongue. Why would she bother wishing him a good life if they both knew she wouldn't be there to watch the dragon grow and flourish?

The dragon dared: he opened his eyes just a crack. There, he saw that a considerable distance grew between him and the maiden. It was just a few steps, and if the dragon truly willed, it could be even less than that. Yet, in this moment, the distance seemed both unsurmountable and familiar. This was the distance that the dragon previously failed to acknowledge, the distance that had always presented itself between the two.

He blinked. When he opened his eyes once more, this time his vision far clearer than it had been previously, he was met with the sight of rain. An empty cave entrance, leaving this little abode that was now truly his to bask in silence.

The dragon blinked once more, lowering his gaze when he felt something rub against one of his claws. A beige bamboo hat, the white transparent veil tired to it seeming as pristine as it had been the first time the maiden walked through the cave's mouth.

He could almost hear her confidently announce, "on second thought, the clash is too bad. I can always just run through the rain, so don't worry about me!"

The dragon would normally fix her with a look, which would result with her accusing him of "not caring about her at all". She would grow offended, fall silent for a few moments, and after a few minutes, she would return to her usual talkative self.

To keep track of how long the two had known one another, the dragon watched as the scenery outside his cave changed. The seasons passed, turning into a blur in his mind until eventually. In the end, they merged into what he knew as two hundred and eighty-one sunsets and sunrises. The time where the maiden would usually arrive and leave. She was a night owl, was what she announced when the dragon expressed curiosity.

Now, the dragon counted how many sunsets and sunrises it had been since the woman last showed herself in front of him. These days, by sunrise, the people would present themselves by the docks, and by sunset, they would wander about the markets to find goods at cheap prices.

By sunrise, he would walk down the mountain on his on two feet, and by sunset, he mingled with his people. He would speak with his associates, he would attend to whatever matters needed his urgent care, and he would ask himself, should a certain familiar face present itself in front of him, would he even have time to entertain her whims?

Like this, approximately two hundred and fifty thousand sunsets and sunrises flew by. The man was losing count, and the face that he once tried to preserve began to blur, merging with those of all who passed by him midday. She became yet another passerby to him, and her visits, what he once considered a variable in his schedule, now seemed as if they were the most natural thing that could occur.

The face he once craned his neck to look up at while he presented himself as a dragon...

Caught his eye as he stared up at the sun, intending on determining how much time remained before he would count this sunset as well.

Chapter Text

It was midday, and the streets were bustling.

Footsteps mingled with the exuberant laughter coming from all those who wandered about. Vendors howled about lowered prices as people ran to and fro, back and forth.

Where barren land once made itself known now stood a lively marketplace. This large stretch of land long ago only accommodated few. Families that settled down and cared for travelers passing by.

More and more people settled by these lands, yet they didn’t have much to offer in turn. Instead, caravans passing by made use of the natural paths to navigate to and back from many villages.

The dragon couldn’t help but find it interesting. When he first descended from his lofty cave in all his haughtiness, the lands were just as that maiden had described. Small villages with meager signs of life and just as meager provisions. But maybe those stories she told him, the stories about “dragons bringing wealth and luck”, weren’t empty words she spoke just to speak.

With his descent came prosperity and in order to protect this prosperity, a “leader” Is what he became.

How many years ago was this? He could no longer recall the exact number. It was somewhere in the five hundred was all he knew for sure. Faces of the past blurred into one and similar expressions were seen on the citizens of today. All he could clearly recall was the transformation as things went from good to great, as they reached their supposed peak only to surpass expectations once more.

In the past seven hundred years, he’d noted that for something to stay the same… That was a miracle.

The curve of the hill smoothed out, and the dragon walked on flat ground once more. Because of the dragon’s current status as leader, avoiding the looks of reverence given by the townspeople was an exhausting task.

Trades have been growing these days. Some time ago, a large ship departed with quite a quantity of goods. To boost trades, they said, collaboration was needed. Many vendors were welcomed on for their very first venture to a faraway land.

Somehow, word had spread through the mouths of associated vendors who weren’t willing to take such a risk- the ship would be returning today just half past noon! Who would have believed it? How many doubted the credibility of such a far-off venture? Too many to count.

Now that others had to eat their words, the best course of action would be to do so obediently, rephrase their thoughts and spit them out as cheers, made to welcome the entire crew.

It wasn’t odd for the marketplace to be filled to the brim at this time of day. Today, however, was considerably crowded. More so than usual. Just looking at it and picturing the many looks he would receive, should he venture around town, gave him a headache. He couldn’t help the narrowing of his eyes.

A little behind the marketplace- well, a “little” to the dragon thanks to his enhanced vision- was a small hillside. I fear that this area of respite would be uncovered, the dragon only occasionally ventured by this area. This emergency situation was one of those few instances and it was safe to say he didn’t regret it one bit.

“There you are.” But of course, if he knew of it, there was no way others wouldn’t. One way or another, his little hideout had been found.

He lowered his gaze, attention moving from the bustling pier to the small path of grass beneath his feet. He’d only now noticed, but from said patch of grass, a small flower swayed with the wind. As if it were struggling to stay upright.

With his eyes fixed on the form of this miniscule floweret, he spared his attention towards the person who approached with near imperceptible footsteps. “Unease isn’t an emotion that suits you well, and clearly, I’m not the only one who harbors such a thought.”

White robes entered the other’s peripheral vision, and he couldn’t help but cast a glance over to his right. If her voice wasn’t a dead giveaway, he knew for sure what name to use when greeting the newly appeared personality.

“Even if you’ve put in an order in advance, it would be wiser for you to recuperate your goods before the sun sets. Otherwise, the streets will grow even more crowded.” During the daytime, many were too busy with work to run errands. That was shops would drag their working hours late into the night, some opening exclusively once the sun began to set. It gave the pier-turned-marketplace a lively atmosphere, though it meant noise was certainly not kept to a minimum.

“No rush, there’s no rush.” The other dictated with a wave of her hand. Guizhong’s blue-grey eyes found the amber-coloured ones of her companion. Maybe it was because of the eye contact, but it took less than a second for her seemingly dull smile to switch to something warmer. “In the period where I’d ran out of paper, I managed to toss and turn enough creations that I dare to now call myself a visualization master. Too many faulty designs were discarded, I now have nothing noteworthy.”

In silence, the dragon stared straight at the other. An action she didn’t hesitate in imitating. It didn’t take long before the latter broke first, though. “That, and the less noteworthy ones managed to slip by me.”

The dragon let out a sound of acknowledgement, turning his head to stare once more at the expanse of the marketplace. Somehow, in the few moments he spent looking away, the number of people rushing about almost doubled. By now, the cheers of the jovial villagers rung about. Judging by the number he was looking down at, there was a chance that those from neighbouring villages came to join the festivities.

He shook his head helplessly, instead fixing his gaze on the brown blob riding the waves. Very slowly, it grew closer. However, even after a minute or so of waiting, the exact outline of said blob was still rather hard to make out.

“At this speed, won’t the boat arrive by sundown?” He couldn’t help but ask. He wasn’t sure, however, whether his companion was listening or not. Judging by the way her sleeves were waved back and forth in a continuous motion, she was lost in her own world. The dragon turned away. Maybe it was moving faster than he perceived.

“I could go brainstorming.” Guizhong’s voice quickly regained its previous serene undertone. “But I doubt that’d be efficient. Most of it would fly over my head, refusing to stick to me.”

The dragon didn’t bother speaking up when the other mentioned her selective memory dubbed as less-than-average. After all, she’d mentioned this before. More than once. Enough so that the dragon could recall the details of some of the most recent conversations. A light sigh, imperceptible to Guizhong, slipped past his lips.

He was sure that the other had heard him. This instance, however, was one of the many in which the goddess’s very selective intake of information was put to use. She disregarded the dragon’s lightly exasperated tone and spoke words of her own, “The market’s getting filled at quite the pace, no? This is a record.”

The dragon already knew of this. He didn’t bother moving his attention to the smaller figures scurrying around the pier. “This certainly isn’t the best time to go out shopping, but I still need my materials. What to do…”

Her words implied that she’d only now begun tossing and turning the question in her head for an answer, though the speed at which she broke out of this state of cogitation said otherwise. Putting her revered wits to use, Guizhong quickly followed up, “Why not go down now?”

…Never mind. Everyone needed certain areas, the dragon thought, and for the goddess of dust, that would be many areas outside of her usual engineering. He shook his head. “It’s far too crowded. It would be a miracle if we even get into the market, let alone have a word with the clerk. Waiting until the crowd mellows out is the best course of action.”

“Right. I’m sure “mellow” is something you’re familiar with.” The goddess of dust shook her head in disapproval. “You have too much mellowness in you. I’ve diagnosed that you need some rowdiness to balance out this ratio. And if you refuse, all those around you will keel because of this mellowness that conceals a blank canvas. Do you want that, huh? Exactly, so come along now…”

The dragon couldn’t help but snort. The question Guizhong just posed didn’t sound rhetoric in any sense, yet she hardly offered up the opportunity for him to breathe before coming up with a final verdict. She offered even less time for the dragon to change his mind. The moment she concluded her words; she’d turned her back to the other and took long strides down the hill. The dragon turned his head to his left, looking over his shoulder as the goddess in white hummed a tune and approached the market.

The dragon shook his head, turning it back in the direction of the rowdy villagers. The noise had been raised to a point where he couldn’t brush it off no matter what. If he did somehow manage to disregard the noise, the sting in his ears would bring him back to it. He pursed his lips.

The boat had, in fact, been moving at a rapid pace. By now, even those near the shorter docks could make out the blurry figure of the large boat. Many cheered and many celebrated. The dragon suspected that even the nearby shops were forced to close for a while, either because the owners were also a part of the celebration or said celebration greatly obstructed business. In short, opening shop right now was a waste of time and it probably would be for the next five to ten hours.

The dragon shook his head, eyes falling back to the flower by his foot. As he adjusted his footing, he took in the sight of a crushed flower. A qinxing, wilted and compressed against the soils, never given the opportunity to bloom and preset its splendor. Beside it, the unbloomed glaze lily fought against the wind.

The pleasant scent of ocean water hit the dragon’s nose, and he closely observed as, without the protection his leg provided, the stem of the flower snapped, and it bent in on itself. Now stuck against the floor, the bulb didn’t dare move. The cryptic sight made the dragon narrow his eyes.

The sound of his name being called brought the dragon back to his senses. He closed his eyes, lifting his so when he opened them once more, the pitiful sight was no longer in view. He walked down the hill, following behind the long-departed goddess in a slow pace. It wasn’t long before the very image of those flowers was wiped clean from his mind.

As expected, the pier wasn’t anything short from bustling. Noise pierced the dragon’s ears, and he was sure they weren’t far from bleeding. No matter how much he tried to distance himself from the crowd, people running by would rub shoulders with him and leave in a dash, throwing back a quick apology.

It nearly took twenty minutes before the dragon found himself in a far off, secluded corner. By one of the larger docks, the brown-haired dragon stood leisurely. One of the larger docks, a few ways away from the pier, was reserved for this chip specifically. This was because of the large amounts of merchandise they were reported to have brought back.

So that the eventual unloading wouldn’t be obstructed, the area around the dock was restricted for personnel only, with just a few figures flickering by every now and then. Of course, this wasn’t an issue for the dragon. It only took a few words for him to be allowed by the very edge of the dock, staring out into the ocean and the rapidly approaching boat.

His companion had gotten lost in the crowd. The dragon spent a few minutes searching for her to no avail. In the end, he found the trouble was worth more than the reward. In such an inconspicuous area, his inconspicuous figure could be easily spotted. He was sure that Guizhong would find her way to him one way or another.

The winds billowed, and after the cry of a bird flying about in circles rang out, deafening cheers rang about. The dragon lifted his gaze and took in the sight before him. The ship had been docked.

Aside from how bold of an action it was to depart for such an arduous journey, returning with results to show the people was just as impressive. The dragon couldn’t help but nod in satisfaction.

This expedition would surely ignite the curiosity of many others. If that were to happen, then the docks would be even more occupied. The dragon’s previous elation was immediately wiped from his face. He would have to make sure no conflict arose, especially if anyone were to move their abode closer to the area by the seaside. That would mean more work for him.

Even as the dragon finished his session of contemplation, the cheers were as loud as ever. He took in the few crew members who thought they had enough time to revel in the noise. They stood by the front of the ship and waved back at the people only to be called right back by those carrying boxes and bags alike. It didn’t take a second call for them to turn tail and dash for the storage.

The poor dragon, his ears were overwhelmed by voices that drawled out words in sing-song tones. He told himself that if Guizhong didn’t come in the next five minutes, he would find her himself and quickly leave this place.

Because of his somewhat heightened senses, the noise was even more unbearable. He could catch small snippets of conversation that others may not explicitly perceive, but it came at the cost of his eardrums. Even now, he was unwillingly eavesdropping in on the conversation of two especially loud crewmates.

“Auntie, how does it feel to be back after so long? Good, right?” Maybe it was because he wanted to be sure that his companion could still hear him over the villager’s passion that was dubbed into their desperate shouts, but his voice grew louder with every word. The dragon’s eyes knitted together. “So get down from there now, and let’s leave before the captain can notice. We have some sightseeing to do. If we stay here, we’ll be stuck unloading until the sun sets in the west and comes right back up from the east.”

“Ahaha! How many times have I told you not to call me that. Do I look old to you?” Compared to the jovial voice of her companion, the woman’s tone sounded far more composed. Even so, as she delivered her few lines it was clear that they withheld an underlying threat. Aside from exasperation, it seemed she concealed a whole other sentence that would go along the lines of “say that again and let’s see where that mouth of yours brings you”. "Using me as an excuse to ditch work isn’t worth it. Last time you tried, we ended up spending half of the night on the deck. Both of us. I know you remember just how bone-chilling that cold was.”

Words were murmured and for a moment, the dragon could hardly keep up with the conversation. He couldn’t help but pay closer attention to these people. Well, it was more so towards the woman. His crude yet somehow eloquent way of speaking was terribly reminiscent of something. The problem was the dragon just couldn’t put his finger on it.

He furrowed his eyebrows, turning his head back to take in the sight before him. As expected, a brown boat as well as many people wandering about.

The conversation went on, “Right, and the sun will still rise from the east side. Whether or not we do good, captain’s still gonna find a way to pick at us. Let’s enjoy it, our last moments of freedom.”

The woman chuckled. “Us? The captain has plans to punish us? Of course, nice implications. You just need someone to drag down, don’t you? Here I thought we’d formed a genuine bond, huh. Seems my thought process fooled me once more. I was nothing but a method of escape to you.”

“No, no, you misunderstand! You’re my dearest virtuoso, the one who shed light upon my bleak days on this ship! You even saved us from our fate once, how could I ever…” The young crew member coaxed. His voice got cut off by the end, but it was still just enough for the dragon to pinpoint its exact location.

On the highest crow’s nest, a young man stood on the outside hanging onto the railing in a leisurely manner. He stood facing the dragon so even if he didn’t notice the latter’s gaze, said latter could still make out the other’s boyish features. Just as suspected, a careless grin was plastered along his face. His hair was pushed back with a bandana, a few stray strands framing his face. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing toned arms.

As for his companion… The dragon could only see the outline of her figure. She leaned against the pole protruding from the middle of the crow’s nest she stood upon, arms pulled forward. Zephyrs brushed by, revealing dark brown robes and a peculiar strip of fabric falling loose from her sash. The textile was uncannily similar to dragon scales, the sun’s rays reflected upon them and making them shimmer in a blinding glow.

The dragon stared at the figure with her back turned to him, trying hard to make out any additional details. Aside from the dragon-flying-between-clouds motif starting from the bottom of her robes, no amount of scrutinizing gave him any extra details. He blinked, relaxing his gaze.

Lowering his eyes, the dragon’s gaze was stuck on the ocean and its undulating waves. The sound of cheers had died down a while ago and, even if hustle and bustle was considerable, he could now at least tolerate the noise. He stared at the wooden lay out of the dock, taking a step back subconsciously before a piercing “whoosh” sound overwhelmed his ears.

Hands reacting before he could think, the dragon reached out for the flying object before he could process just what he was grabbing on to. The cloth tied to the armor on his shoulders fluttered, lifting into the air for a few seconds before falling back to the side. They moved about with the wind floating over the waves.

The dragon stood in place for a moment before finally moving his hand in front of his face. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the object before him. Two elongated bits of wood wrapped with paper and tied together with string. A paper scroll.

The scroll was thrown behind him and judging by the angle from which it fell, it was thrown from a place above him. The dragon took a step back, turning his body and lifting his head. Immediately, his eyes landed on the highest crow’s nest. The young boy was gone. Only one person stood upon it.

Still, she stood behind the pole. However, as if she could somehow sense the gaze that bore into her, she turned back.

The sun’s splendid rays pierced through the few clouds effortlessly. The dragon wasn’t sure whether it was in spite of or on account of the fact that his senses were heightened, but his eyes narrowed on instinct as he stared at the woman who stood before the sun.

Her eyes were completely obscured by this white light, and all other features of her face were unclear. It was only when she angled her head that, with much effort, the dragon could trace out the smile forming on her lips. A cheeky one, at that.

A tug at his sleeve made the dragon turn away. The relieved expression of the goddess of dust nearly made the dragon forget what he was first doing. Keyword, almost.

He quickly turned his head back once more. The crow’s nest was empty. He knew from where that striking nostalgia had come.

.

After Guizhong managed to scope out the dragon, it didn’t take much for the situation to spiral out of control.

Once the celebrations subsided, more and more people began to notice the god and goddess standing side by side, just a few steps away. Luckily, there was the sign indicating that the area on which the duo stood was for personnel only. It saved them from being completely crowded over.

However, Guizhong, the social one of the two, didn’t at all mind interaction. She engaged in conversation and dragged the dragon around town long enough for the sun that stood high in the sky but a moment ago to grow dim. By then, it was clear that it wouldn’t be long before evening fell.

The shops around the market began to open alongside those who kept business running all day. The number may seem small in the eyes of some, but the energy shown off by the villagers nearby and far away gave the market a busy air.

All noise was amplified by nearly twice its usual amount when it was said that the two local deities had been spotted wandering around town, together and for more than an hour! Who would believe it? It wasn’t unusual for the goddess of dust to come down the mountains every other week to replenish her stock of materials for trinket making, but Yanwang Dijun? When one thought of an “otherworldly immortal”, his cold countenance would always be the first to come to mind.

And so commenced endless amounts of coaxing, bargaining and obscene amounts of small talk. The dragon could feel his mind going blank because of how much information was being shoved straight into his ears. Not being up to date with the region’s gossip made it even worse, as he couldn’t interject in any conversation, instead being forced to tag behind the goddess.

This time he was lucky. Guizhong wasn’t so immersed in mingling with the people that she forgot about the god accompanying her. It only took a few lines to be exchanged before she waved him goodbye with a glowing smile. The dragon didn’t need to be told twice.

He found himself on a specific mountain. An area shrouded in shadows because of the larger rocks towering over it and obscured by the sparse yet eye-catching vegetation. Behind it all sat a small cave, hardly capable of withholding more than fifteen people. He stared at it, amber eyes glazing over with nostalgia. Maybe he’d long since fallen down the deep end, but even the melodic voice that wafted from the cave made him fall into rumination.

Seven hundred years of time was enough for this mountain to change completely. What was once overrun with gravel now held enough space for a few blades of grass to grow. The rugged mountain that once posed many difficulties just in terms of scaling was now a simple passageway towards the more deserted side of the region.

His eyes wandered about before eventually landing to his left. The mouth of the cave seemed to welcome him which wasn’t unusual as a few steps to his right was a steep cliff. One that wouldn’t guarantee the life of a regular human. He was reassured to know that he didn’t fall into the aforementioned category. The only way left to go now was forward, towards the chants of “one gold coin falls into a pot of gold, two gold coins fall into a pot of gold, mix, mix, mix, and an ingot will come out.” The tacky song grew irritating around the third chant where the three ingots somehow formed a box full of jewelry and an ingot.

Stepping in front of the cave, the first thing that the dragon noticed were the crudely drawn paper human-shaped silhouettes. What should have been paper was completely hollow, leaving only an ink-coloured outline. They were stacked one on top of the other, holding on to one part each of the broom in hand. Their coordinated movements were bringing rubble and dirt outside of the cave and right by the entrance. The dragon stepped to the side so as to not hinder their work.

“Ah, there you are, my greatest investment, my illustrious savings account!” A jovial voice rang out from one of the obscured corners of the cave. Soon, a figure emerged, a brilliant smile on her face. The dragon’s gaze flickered downwards, examining her outfit. She wore the same expensive-seeming brown robes she had on this afternoon, the scale-like textile attracting the dragon’s attention once more.

Her trademark bamboo hat had been dyed black this time around. Instead of a veil, red tassels with elongated gold cylinders hung from the back and sides of the hat. Sounds resembling bell chimes occasionally rang out, making the dragon furrow his eyebrows at the noise.

It was also clear that aside from her expressive clothing and bizarre choice in accessories, the maiden had also retained her shamelessness. “So, what brings the great Yanwang Dijun- Rex Lapis himself right by my doorstep? Have I piqued your curiosity? Has my charisma naturally brought you to my side? Or are you here to give a reason as to why the name I put oh-so much effort into conjuring for you has been cast aside, forgotten by all including the bearer of that very name?”

The dragon stared blankly at the maiden. She kept running her mouth, words coming out without a single pause. Had Yanwang Dijun not known any better, he would’ve believed that she had practiced these lines far ahead of time. However, he could vaguely recall just how atrocious the woman’s memory was. Which strangely reminded him of a certain goddess usually by his side…

He tilted his head just a bit to the side, one of his amber eyes being obscured by his bangs. After a moment of silence, he spoke, “What are you doing… In my abode?”

The maiden stared at him with veiled exasperation. She blinked before turning her head. After a few seconds spent taking in the sight of the desolate cave before her, she turned right back with a mocking smile on her face. “Your “abode”? It seems you’ve grown a sense of humor in the time of my absence.”

“Ah, since, seemingly, we’re telling each other about the skills we’ve developed with time, I’ll start with one.” The maiden brought her hands together, a light clapping sound being produced. Because of the sudden movement, her sleeves rolled down her wrist and revealed pitch black sleeves looping around her middle finger. “You’ve noticed it too, right? My singing voice has gotten much better!”

Yanwang Dijun gave a hum in turn, eyes stuck on the fitting sleeves. “Tone deafness is something you can get over?”

“Right, haha, so funny.” The maiden’s flat tone conveyed that in truth, she did not in fact find the foment funny. “I think it would be weirder if I hadn’t gotten over it this entire time. I’ve lived longer than four human lifetimes. Why wouldn’t I be able to practice recognizing tones and pitch?”

The other only hummed, turning his attention back to the inside of the cave and the ink figures still working on cleaning it. With a lot of effort, they turned the broom upside down and began sweeping at any dirt in the corners of the cave’s roof. Their struggles were palpable, judging by how they would wobble over with every other movement. An idea suddenly popped in the god’s head, though he was hesitant over whether or not it was proper to voice it.

The maiden leaned to the side, blocking out god’s view of the inside of the cave. “Now we’ve learned not to listen to others when speaking?”

“Have you nowhere else to go? Even so, I feel as if falling back to this cave is a bit…” Yanwang Dijun’s gaze flickered between the cave and the very offended maiden.

She shook her head in disapproval. “I much preferred you when you couldn’t talk. I mean, your implications were clear on your face, but I’m just now realizing how much more it hurts to hear things straight from your mouth…”

Yanwang Dijun wished to point out that she never bothered to filter out her words when speaking but held his tongue instead. Despite the time they spent apart, he could very clearly recall just how skilled the traveling musician was when it came to wiggling her way out of conversations with skillfully crafted yet ridiculous excuses. This setting was perfect for her to demonstrate that skill once again and now that he'd been given the skill to avoid these awkward encounters, he would gladly put it to use.

“Ignoring me again? Hoaran, you can’t use the same skill twice.” The maiden tapped him on his shoulder. “Plus, your face is giving you away. You might not be aware of it, but you have yet to master the art of controlling micro expressions. All those years you’ve spent using expressions as a way of conveying words is getting to you, huh?”

The god wanted to once again point out that it wasn’t like she was the best at taming her micro expressions, yet he held back. He pushed down the index finger that had been tapping his shoulder armour, returning it to the other’s side.

“Ha, so you do recognize that name.” The god turned his head away. The snort that he heard from the person no longer in his line of sight made him consider turning back and announcing that it wasn’t out of guilt. Definitely not out of guilt, if out of anything.

“There’s no one else you could be addressing. Am I wrong to assume you were speaking to me?” The god’s words got no answer, and he didn’t see the need in looking at the maiden’s expression to determine whether or not she was angry. If he were to do so, he would do it to see how angry she’d gotten.

The silence was broken through by a sigh, and the sigh was quickly replaced by a light-hearted chuckle. Yanwang Dijun turned his head, watching the maiden take a step back and create some space between them. Her once uptight expression had done a complete one-eighty. If someone were to blindly stare at her ravishing smile, with the way it reached her eyes, they would never guess that she’s just finished arguing with someone.

“Jokes aside, I’m happy to see you again.” The god found that any instance where the maiden didn’t bother obscuring her eyes was one worthy of appreciation. He stared at the expression worn by the maiden. It was one of indistinct exultation. “The moment I heard word of a man “descending from the heavens, guiding the light to shine down upon his people”, I had to rush back here.”

The god grew confused. Word of his achievements had spread centuries ago. Yet she’d only recently arrived alongside the group of travellers. No matter where she’d found herself, there was no way that news circulated that slowly.

And there was her familiar greeting, as if she wasn’t at all surprised to see the other find his way to her. As if she never even entertained the idea that he would ask where she’d been, why she disappeared without a word and when would be the next time she pulled such a stunt.

Regretfully, she’d guessed right. Yanwang Dijun couldn’t push the words out. He wasn’t one to hesitate because of nerves, nor to simply assume that someone wouldn’t answer and not try under that assumption. He just felt that the reason was more complicated than it just being a whim. He couldn’t even be sure she herself knew why she had to leave.

She let out a devious laugh. “I knew it. My gut feeling brought me back down the right path once more. I handed you a map and look at you, finding yourself right at your intended destination! Hardly took a millennium, too.”

Yanwang Dijun intended to change the subject before the maiden found the opportunity to break out into a story. He held the scroll he’d read through on his way here in his hand. As he guessed, it contained a short story littered with euphemism and allegory. He could hardly make out what was the intended focus.

He wished to hand it back to the author and quickly leave, yet he somehow got engaged in this heartfelt reunion- he wasn’t sure another opportunity for escape would present itself.

Yet as if she’d sensed his intentions from a mile away, the maiden turned her back to the god, lamenting to herself, “I’ve missed out on so much, I fear if I were to drop the opportunity now, I would truly lose the chance to familiarize myself with this new version of my old friend… Though I fear that my conversation would bore thou and waste thou’s time. Very unfortunate circumstances, indeed…”

The god refused to let her words get to him, extending his hand that held the scroll. “Your anecdote…”

Unexpectedly, two hands cupped his own and were shaken in a repeated manner. As the maiden went through with this action, a lively expression on her face, she proposed, “So instead, I’ll make it quick! I’m not one to break promises, and I told you that I’d play you a piece once I returned, no? Take a seat, take a seat. Anywhere would be suitable. I’ll present you with the wordless ballad I composed especially for you.”

She looked down at the paper in the man’s grasp. “And you can keep this. I wrote it for you as well. The public has yet to hear this story.”

Yanwang Dijun watched as the maiden disappeared into a corner of the cave that was out of his line of sight before turning away without another word. From what he recalled, he didn’t think he had much to do. Listening to a song or two wouldn’t hurt. Though he was curious, just how could something be classed as a “ballad” in the absence of words…?

By his side emerged the maiden. She leaned forward, staring down the edge of the cliff. “I know I said anywhere would be suitable, but this is quite the spot… Do you enjoy staring out at the horizon?”

Yanwang Dijun took a glance to the side. By the maiden’s feet was a mahogany wood container with a handle at the side, longer than it was large. Trees weren’t especially sparse in the residential areas, but lighter woods were more common. This told the god that she’d truly traveled far to have this made.

In her hands she held the ever-familiar instrument, an erhu tinted red, and its accompanying bow. Pieces of a story once told flashed through the god’s mind. This time, she hadn’t changed instruments.

The maiden-turned-musician straightened her back, taking a breath of fresh air before letting her legs give up and sitting a few steps away from the edge of the cliff. When she met the god’s curious gaze, she explained that like this, there was a perfect ratio of gravel and sunset. Her perception skills had yet to grow rusty.

Imitating the other’s movements, the god took a seat. There was a considerable distance between the maiden and the god that none of them bothered closing. While the maiden sat a safe distance away from the cliff, the god preferred to watch his legs dangle in the air, white pants creating a clear contrast against brown robes.

He closed his eyes, taking in the sound of the wind. They were far enough so as to not hear any bustle from the marketplace, and that added on to the atmosphere. It didn’t take long for him to murmur, “You may begin.”

Chapter Text

With the fall of nighttime came the low buzzing of cicadas., a calming sound that indicated the presence of wildlife.  Paired with that was the rustling of leaves and, occasionally, even that of grass.

The coming of the night was an inevitable occurrence, simply an everyday event. Humans, just like the wildlife that occupied this area and any that was adjacent, allowed their restlessness to pass as fatigue instead took over. As the moon rose, allowing the sun to fall, noise as well as the everyday sounds of  regular hubbub eventually disappeared into the far-off future, waiting for all those who had the privilege of awakening the following day.

But, to some, even being able to close your eyes and fall asleep counted as a privilege. There were always many cases and particularities in which some simply couldn’t allow themselves to let their eyelids fall. Nighttime wasn’t necessarily a call into the land of subconscious imagery, no, for some it was simply a notice that the next activity was to be engaged with.

Yánwáng-yé stared down at the wooden instrument that somehow found itself into his arms. From the close-up view he’d been given, the god examined every inch of the instrument. From the neck to the soundbox, and back up to the tuning pegs. As if the instrument was a newfound threat to his select plots to protect, Yánwáng-yé made sure that not an inch of the erhu in his arms. With how firm his grip on both the instrument itself and the bow seemed to be, anyone would have to stifle a laugh, and his companion, the maiden who sat to his side this entire time, was the one who fulfilled that necessity.

Of course, she only allowed herself to laugh when Yánwáng-yé was staring at the erhu. Without touching it. Because the second he lifted his finger and began plucking at the strings experimentally, the maiden seemed to freeze. It took a few more flat and dull strums before, with flailing arms, the maiden reached out to retrieve the instrument from the offender’s grasp.

“I gave you the bow for a reason, mister Lóng!” With more aggression that Yánwáng-yé thought any finger could ever encapsulate, the maiden pointed straight at the long wooden extension in the god’s hand. His gaze moved away from the half-veiled face and down to the instrument he held, over to the bow he had forsaken in his lesser hand and finally back to the maiden. He could already tell what she’d inferred from his seemingly clueless expression “he doesn’t think he committed any wrongs, does he!?”. Her face basically screamed those very words. To further prove her point, the maiden used both of her own to grab onto Yánwáng-yé’s hand that held the bow, shaking it to emphasize what she was saying. “The bow is there so that you can wield the instrument correctly, now for decoration okay!? If you pluck at those strings carelessly, they’ll snap. Snap, you hear?”

Yánwáng-yé watched as she then went on to imitate what he believed she thought was the sound of two strings snapping. This didn’t make him feel any further sense of guilt, no, instead it simply erased any that he may have held onto. “May” being the keyword here, since he soon realized that her aggravated and exaggerated reaction didn’t elicit anything from him at all. He instead found it a little amusing to see that the very person he once believed to be so untouched by any objectively negative emotions could lash out in such a manner. With his hand still in both of hers, the dragon turned his face away and allowed for a self-satisfied smile.

“Especially with these nails- why in Celestia are they even this long? I swear, if you’ve damaged even one of… Are you laughing right now?” Her wild assumption was what pushed the dragon into forcing down an actual laugh, though his hiding a smile behind his fist wasn’t a good idea. It took just one glance for the maiden to determine that he was, in fact stifling a laugh.

It only took a small tug on one end of the bow for Yánwáng-yé to let go of his end and fully hand it over to the other. With the bow now secure and in her possession, the maiden made quick work of retrieving the instrument itself and got to work on what Yánwáng-yé assumed was tuning it. Her hand was in a generally uncomfortable=-seeming position as she did her utmost to turn the wooden pegs at the top of the instrument.

The unexpectedly unpleasant voice of the maiden had caused quite a stir among the local wildlife. This momentary pause in regular nighttime activity went unnoticed to the dragon while there was someone else’s voice to fill the voice yet faced with silence accompanied by his own breathing and the timbre of an erhu, the sound of nearby activity seemed to grow louder. The rustling of the leaves died down, the chirping of the birds seemed to disappear into a nearby horizon, and the buzzing of the cicadas once again became white noise that accompanied the conversation.

Yánwáng-yé couldn’t tame his curiosity. His eyes wandered to the side, taking in the side profile of the person beside him. In his eyes, her side profile seemed to carry an air of elegance that she suddenly lost with every aggravating word she threw his way.

He couldn’t believe the idea that every word she spoke was simply for the sake of filling the silence instead of it being spoken with a purpose, it was a thought that he entertained centuries ago. Now, on the night of their unexpected reunion, the thought resurfaced on his mind faster than it had before, for he faced what he believed to be concrete evidence of this fact. No one could stay the same for seven centuries and a quarter, Yánwáng-yé thought as his eyes lowered on to his crossed legs. Not even she, and-

“Not even you, it seems.” The maiden’s eyes were still diligently fixed on the tuning pegs she handled. This time, Yánwáng-yé managed to get an actual look at her picking up the bow she forsook to her right side and testing the tuning of the instrument she held. “I’d inferred it the second I saw you out and about, mingling with those you now call your own people. Who would have expected that you would grow out of your cave? I certainly wouldn’t.”

The tuning, in her ears, was perfect. Once and for all, the maiden took a hold of the bow, adjusted her seating to better accommodate her erhu and positioned her fingers. A second passed in silence before the slow trembling of a high note broke into the air. This time, the noise wasn’t accompanied by the screeching of various animals. It was a harmonious tune, one that was instead welcomed by the fauna and flora alike.

She bore not a smile or any such expression indicating her current emotional state. Yánwáng-yé noticed, against his will, that ever since the afternoon where they met up to sit by each other, her expression as she composed seemed graver than it would have once before.

His eyes wandered until they found themselves staring straight into the crescent moon that shone ominously in the sky. “The instrument. By itself, it is clearly capable of sound. An ear-piercing, unpleasant sound- but sound, nonetheless. If it was possible to make it independent, why was it built to rely on the bow instead?”

The bow was pulled back at an angle this time, and the sound came out differently than what Yánwáng-yé had expected. His interest in the moon could only last so long and soon enough, he found himself making a game out of guessing exactly which note would be hit depending on the manner in which the fretting of the instrument was done.

For some apparent reason, the dragon found himself recalling words that were spoken to him years ago.

He saw no potential halt in her movement, so he could only conclude that perhaps in her ears, his voice was part of the natural orchestra that surrounded her being.

“A harmony isn’t attained with merely one note.” The tone of the music being played seemed to drop, just as the beat slowed. “Similarly, the full potential of certain trinkets cannot be attained alone…”

Finally, the playing of the maiden’s instrument stopped. It wasn’t as abrupt as some of her earlier compositions, or as ear-grating as others. It was a smooth pause that followed a multitude of hums from the strings that still shook as an aftermath.”

“…Is what I would say if I were a vendor for this instrument trying to bring in more customers.” The maiden’s performance officially came to an end with the shrugging of her shoulders, which seemed very unfitting for something as poetic as what it was, she just pulled. “But hey, I’m pretty sure the blueprint for crafting this instrument has been lost somewhere in time. No matter which direction my mental compass points me towards, I just can’t seem to find another area that recreates it just like this.”

With the bow still held in her grasp, the maiden scratched at the top of her head playfully. It looked as if she had two antennas stretching from her head, intertwined, as she went through with the act.

Her words, following the eloquent show she’d just put on, served as an extreme source of whiplash for Yánwáng-yé. He could only stare on, this time more in amazement than appreciation. Eventually, you managed to rip his eyes away from her face that seemed bare without the overlay of her usual veil. Not to speak on the top of her head, which looked borderline naked without the clash of light brown coming from strips of bamboo.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the dragon hesitantly asked, “Have you tried directing your compass towards the village you first got the instrument from?”

Yet, instead of another bout of jokes, Yánwáng-yé only received a look of genuine confusion. With due time, he could only reciprocate the look as well, more confused when facing the maiden’s confusion than he’d ever been listening to her words. She slowly moved her eyes away from him, and Yánwáng-yé could’ve sworn he saw gears turning in the forefront of her mind. Luckily for the both of them, she did very soon manage to locate the correct memory from the ever-flowing river that seemed to carry her recollections.

“That village? The one I told you centuries ago?”

Yánwáng-yé confirmed her inquiries, “Yes, the story about-“

A harsh slap to his shoulder forced him to stutter in the middle of his sentence, and he grew confused once more. Did he remember wrong? Was that a subject he wasn’t meant to touch on? If he recalled correctly, the maiden’s expression as she shared the experience with him didn’t resemble one he would usually expect from her at that time. Maybe he misstepped while trying to keep the conversation flowing?

But while speaking to this maiden, any manner of overthinking was taboo. She’d laid the instrument on her lap. making sure that it wasn’t too close to her legs that dangled by the edge of the cliff she sat on. That very hand, that once held the erhu with much care, was now doing a sloppy job at lifting her long sleeve to cover up the hearty grin she was struggling to tame. Her dominant hand still held onto the bow, and never before had Yánwáng-yé thought a long wooden stick to be as intimidating as it did in her hold.

When she lifted the hand holding onto the bow, he only barely stopped himself from visibly flinching. Instead, he paid great attention to her careless actions as she waved it back and forth, just in line with the movement of her wrist. A smile could be heard in her voice. “That story? From centuries ago, you seriously remembered something as insignificant as that?”

“My storytelling was so amateurish back then, I can not believe that you’re seriously capable of recalling such a thing from so long ago.” A laugh followed her words. “This is a direct compliment to my skills. Even as I was testing the water, trying to see just what sort of audience I would gain as I stuck with you, I seriously managed to leave a lasting impression? Wow, I should really give myself a pat on the back for that!”

The dragon stared, confused at the maiden’s sudden burst of energy. Just a minute ago, she wouldn’t speak more than fifteen words a sentence. Now she was suddenly able to dish out paragraph after paragraph? The dragon couldn’t understand. He was sure it wasn’t a human trait, either, as it’s quite obvious that she herself isn’t human. Perhaps she was part of a more social species, he concluded, in a more literal sense.

A hand lightly gripped onto his elbow, and Yánwáng-yé could feel as the wooden bow tapped repeatedly on his back. “In that case, do you remember anything else? What other stories of mine can you recall?”

Her expression was bright as the dragon looked straight into her eyes. They seemed to trap and reflect the starlight perfectly, almost a little too. It was ominous, too, to see her look so bright as the second he looked a little further to the right, he could see her fingers purposefully flexing in order to move the bow in her hold. The taps grew more and more urgent with every second that went by, and they almost felt like a threat that grew in terms of danger.

Yánwáng-yé, “…”

“You spoke of many stories in the time we were together. I can hardly recall one, you’d have to give me a two-week grace period before I can fully recall another.” Expertly, Yánwáng-yé worked his arm out of her grip.

The maiden didn’t bother retaliating, only moving back into her space and reinstating the distance that was originally put between the two. “You had a seven-hundred-year long grace period. How have you recalled nothing else?”

Yánwáng-yé’s eyes slowly moved back onto her form. She moved her hand back into that uncomfortable-looking position, wasting no time before she got back to work on tuning the erhu that she repositioned. Perhaps recalling conversations from seven hundred years ago rekindled a spark she didn’t know she kept deep down. Her expression, albeit seeming more impassive than anything, looked much like the one she had whenever she felt like pouring most of her attention into something other than the conversation the two had managed to keep going all through the evening.

This expression, the one that had quickly caught Yánwáng-yé’s expression the very first time he saw it as the sun began to set on this very cliff, and the very one that startled him, now seemed to put a metaphorical distance between the two. The face he hadn’t recognized from the start now seemed further unrecognizable.

Maybe it was because of that very distance, the same distance that seemed insurmountable up until now, that the dragon couldn’t help but feel bold. “And what have you done to recall anything in those seven hundred years?”

The distance was smaller than he wanted to fathom. The maiden’s even, unchanging expression served as his sign that she had heard him loud and clear. Yet, her unwavering movements as she tightened the instruments’ strings showed that she wasn’t at all surprised by the dragon’s words. Her body language seemed to be saying “I was wondering when you’d throw that question my way”.

A sudden pause in her movement, while she seemed so sure of herself just seconds ago, was what alerted the dragon during the grace period in their conversation. She stared down at her instrument before laying it flat on her lap, reaching for the hat she left a little behind her and adjusting it back onto her head, on its rightful place. The thin veil attached to the thing blurred her features unnecessarily so.

Very slowly, she lifted herself on her feet and from there she simply… stood. She stood in place, staring off into the distant horizon, and for a moment the dragon believed that she’d turn away and leave him to wallow in his thoughts the remainder of the night. Soon, though, she turned towards the dragon, one of her eyes peeking through the sheer fabric alongside a corner of her smile. “Care to join me for a walk, Haoran?”

By standing up of his own volition, the dragon found himself admitting to recalling a memory in spite of the two-week grace period he himself claimed he was in need of.

✴

On the lower parts of the natural mountain trail, man-made paths grew more and more apparent. The footprints of nearby passersby that may have used the flatter areas of the mountain to attempt and cut their journeys short made themselves visible. Even in the dark surroundings, Yánwáng-yé’s didn’t fail to catch on to even such an unimportant detail. No matter how heightened his senses, however, he couldn’t manifest eyes onto the back of his head. The steps he and the slow-paced maiden by his side left on the trail would eventually be swept away by the dirt that had been kicked off to the side.

And on the topic of being slow-paced… Yánwáng-yé could hardly hide his displeasure for the slow promenade he’d been forced to engage in. After the question he threw into the ring, uncalled for and out of the blue, it wasn’t like he genuinely expected conversation to flow as it had when they first took their seats by the edge of that cliff. However, the back and forths between them were hardly enjoyable.

“When exactly did you first take on your human form?”

“A few decades after you disappeared.”

“And how long had you been hiding the fact that you could actually engage in verbal exchanges with me?”

Yánwáng-yé’, “…”

The maiden would hum a tune the dragon suspected was made up on the spot before immediately jumping back into another bout of questions. “What were you doing during the first part of your human-like life?”

“Wandering.”

“Oh? For how long? I suspect you were moving about like a zombie, which made it obvious that you were anything but human.

“Wouldn’t you know.”

The maiden, “…”

Yánwáng-yé would lower his gaze, making sure that he didn’t accidentally crush a sprout that happened to be in his path. “You first came with that ship crew, didn’t you? How did you get to know them?”

In turn, the maiden would take a second and hum in thought. “Sometime when I found myself in an area they were meant to stop by? It seemed that somebody got lazy halfway through the boat’s construction. A part of the wood was quickly chipped off.”

The maiden, currently doubling as a storyteller, concluded that right now would be the perfect moment to add some speed to her strides. Though the dragon lagged behind a bit at first, he simply extended his strides to be able to catch up and stand right by her side. “And so, a wise and kind maiden took it upon herself to strike a deal with the troupe. “I’ll have your boat working just enough to take you back from whence you came”, she said, “with only this paper that is left to my name”. The crew, rightfully so, showed their suspicions that were quickly warping into anger at the fact that they were being made fun of.”

The two eventually fell in step, as they walked in sync. The tempo of their movement matched the speed of the maiden’s storytelling. “Yet, what else did they have to believe in? A young boy, only having joined the crew originally to make up numbers, enlightened the rest. “Should our boat fall, all that will be left of us will be word of mouth about our terrible misadventure. What’s the difference between that and shamefully remaining put on a foreign land?”, what inspiring words. Discussions were held among the lot and eventually, they asked the maiden what she wanted in exchange for her help, and her answer? “Show me to this motherland of yours”.”

“Was it the boy’s speech? Or was it the false security the crew had, thinking that now as the maiden herself would board the ship, what would be the chances that she would leave them stranded in the middle of the sea?” Her words were followed by a gentle zephyr of wind, fluttering by and only adding onto the air she wished to convey. “Which one do you think convinced them to take her offer?”

The dragon thought long and hard on this question, until he came up with an answer of his own. “In the end, wouldn’t it be their own desperation?”

“The desperation to get somewhere, to fulfill their own goal… To some, especially humans who spend their lives searching for a purpose of their own, it sounds plausible for such a  thing to motivate them enough.”

Before they knew it, both pairs of feet had landed on the flat ground. There were little to no bumps left on the land. Standing was made easier for the both of them, especially as they seemed to share the same mind to stop the second they hit flat ground.

The two exchanged looks. The veiled figure spoke, though her voice held a tinge of something that the dragon couldn’t seem to pinpoint. “…You asked me what I’ve been doing to recall over the span of seven hundred years, correct?”

Yánwáng-yé answered with a nod, and the maiden caught it in her peripheral vision.

“Going wherever my own feet take me, collecting stories that belong to this wonderful land.” A pair of feet began walking forward, leaving the other behind. The veiled figure regained her earlier pace, the slower of them. Her feet took their time, but she was certainly getting places. “And I have a lot more of where they all came from. Word of mouth, depicted as paintings, or written on scrap paper. Whether it’s told through the movement of one’s vocal cords or the fretting of strings, the stories will find their listeners.”

She lifted a hand, waving at the figure behind her, though she didn’t bother turning back. “Sitting up at a mountain top with nothing but our company to warm us through the night is saddening. Next time, I’ll bring us something to drink.”

…The maiden had someplace to be, Yánwáng-yé recognized. She carried herself, instrument in hand, in the direction of the amalgamation of houses a few hills down. Perhaps she’d found someplace to stay the night, or maybe even longer than that.

Yánwáng-yé, however, could only look on. Not because he had nowhere to go, or nothing to do, no. More so because he was currently registering what had just happened. Her offer to be walked down the hill wasn’t truly one because she wished to engage with a promenade with the dragon, was it?

The god looked down at his dominant hand, in which he carried a scroll. The very same scroll he’d been thrown just earlier that day. With not much time in his schedule, he couldn’t find a period in which he could quickly find someplace secure to drop it by.

He still kept it out in the open, however, because he believed there would be an opportunity for him to address it. Her words before leaving let him know, that time would indeed come soon enough. For now, he could instead concentrate on what was most important…

…Had he been tricked into seeing her off?