Chapter Text
It was a village of ice, rock, and mud.
The planet had clearly been devastated by its Stellaron, torrential downpours of near-infinite water deluging what few people that had survived day in and day out for centuries on end. The skies were dry now, heavy with clouds instead of wet with rain, but by the state of this poor place even that was a rarity here. With the skies overcast and the sun hidden, the place was instead lit by lingering green fire-like wisps, an eerie sort of glow that struggled for purchase against the soggy ground and air. Every step was a fight through ankle-deep mud, and a maze to traverse through sopping puddles that were thick with toxins and sludge. The village, unsurprisingly, was small and tired, huddled out in the open and split by muddy paths and trails. By the crashed, rotting branches in the nearby forest and tumbled rocks at the foot of cliffs, it was clear that out in the open was far safer than underneath crumbling shelter.
Even the air was wet, so humid that despite standing underneath a dry sky, it felt like rain after all.
Jing Yuan had checked on his way here. The planet had warnings on it in the Xianzhou database, alerting any would-be travelers that the weather conditions were so extreme that it was to be avoided at all costs. The Nameless, of course, had not been banished by the rains, but called by them instead. And by the sight of the clouds overhead, it seemed they had succeeded in their mission after all.
Jing Yuan, through heavy and slow steps, a ruined skirt, and a lingering glare at the oppressive heat, reached the village's edge. He was not left waiting for long.
"General Jing Yuan?"
The Nameless withdrew from one of the nearby huts, emerging from the grey shadows. It might've been stealthy, if each step hadn't been closer to a stomp.
"And you are Mr. Welt Yang." Jing Yuan inclined his head slightly, and couldn't help but note that this Nameless, too, was clearly worse for wear. A shirt that had once been white was so ruined that he never would've been able to tell if he hadn't already known. "Your reputation precedes you."
"And yours, as well. Please, follow me."
They both trudged their way through the thick mud. Welt clearly wasn't suited for these conditions, but the dirt and bruises and dampness clinging to him as a second skin said he'd been here long enough for it stop mattering. He fought for purchase with a cane that he didn't quite seem to need, but even with each step harder than the last, he did not slow. Clearly, the urgency had not been overstated.
For now, at least, they were left alone. Most of the inhabitants of the village were further off and didn't seem to have even noticed the silent descent of his starskiff; he could see them outside, and despite the miserable conditions they were clearly in celebration. Perhaps this was the first dry day they'd seen in their lifetimes.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice. We weren't what we were going to do if..." Welt glanced at him sidelong, and let the sentence end without conclusion, clearing his throat. "I'm afraid our requests for aid were no exaggeration."
There were any number of glib responses Jing Yuan could've given to that. But after having seen the state of this place-- after those messages from the Nameless that had made their way to him, but three days ago--
Even he was a bit too tense to brush it off.
"I meant what I said," was all he could answer. "I will do all I can to help."
Welt led him swiftly, or as swiftly as they could manage, to a hut that was near the center of the meager village. It looked a little different than the others; a small gathering of stones to circle its perimeter, some of them lost to the mud, a stripe of white paint on the door that looked to be on its fifth repainting yet-- perhaps all they could muster to mark this place as their leader's home. There was no watch or guard, and Welt took him inside without delay.
Inside was worse.
It was hot and stuffy, so much so that it was hard to breathe. He pulled at his collar as if it would help and all it did was give room for the oppressive air to squeeze against hist throat too. The room was tiny and cramped, something that came as no surprise, the only lights from the same flickering wisps of green fire that seemed as native to this planet as the storms and the mud, but the fire and the smoke only made the suffocating room all the worse.
On the floor, was Dan Heng.
He was as limp as a corpse, and as pale as one too. Or perhaps he might've been, days ago, but now the deathly white was patterned with something sickly, something unwell. Toxic blooms of purple spilled up and down his body-- one on his shoulder, another on his cheek, and there again on his wrist... They looked like deep, violent bruises. He looked like he'd been beaten all over, beaten half to death and then dragged back just so he could be beaten again. And then, spliced between the marks of poison was something even worse: blood. Thin cuts, seemingly without origin, some of them even bandaged with what looked like torn bits of his own clothes. His arms, his chest, one even split on the side of his neck...
He'd gotten here just in time, it seemed.
"Dan Heng," he murmured, and was at his side in a breath. The rough splinters of the floor dug into his legs and he pushed forward anyway, touching his shoulder and then palming his cheek when he still received no response. "Dan Heng."
Still, nothing.
"He won't wake up."
Jing Yuan looked back up, this time to the other Nameless present: March, on her knees at Dan Heng's side as well. She was just as dirty and scuffed as Welt, and looked even worse than him for it, her bright hair dulled and dusty and colorful clothes smeared to brown and grey. But his eyes went to her hands, instead, and the tiny shards of ice at her fingertips.
"I've been trying to keep his fever down," she whispered, following his gaze. "Or at least... it's so hot here, I had to try." She wiped a fist at her eyes, mouth held stubbornly still, but only managed to meet his eyes for a fraction before they were back down on her knees.
She was right. Dan Heng did have a fever too, one that was surely only exacerbated by the terrible conditions here. Even with his hand now only hovering over the skin he could feel the heat, and all the Nameless were sweating but Dan Heng had the worst of it. Even with poor March clearly having spent days making ice for him, his skin was still slick, so slick it was almost slippery, and now that he looked again there was a flush in his face that made his stomach drop. He didn't know what was worse, the violet and blue marks patterned up and down his entire body or the red bloom in his cheeks.
Both, probably, were dire.
He slid his hand under Dan Heng's, feeling for his pulse in the wrist. Steady, at least. A little too fast, but nothing that spelled disaster. Not yet.
Jing Yuan took a deep breath, and willed the squirm deep in his own chest to settle.
"Tell me what happened," he said, when he was sure his voice would be steady. "Again, from the start. I need to know everything."
There was another short silence around him. Jing Yuan let it linger, and instead more securely slid his fingers around Dan Heng's wrist.
"We were here to find and seal this planet's Stellaron," Welt said at last. His voice was steady, too, only a quiet beat of apprehension lingering in his narrowed eyes. "The Stellaron has been plaguing this planet with rainstorms for longer than anyone left here can remember. We were staying here, trying to work out our next steps, when we got word that the rains had broken the dam blocking off an abandoned city. The people here said the ruins had been off limits for decades-- the flood waters there were full of pollutants and toxic waste, and were what had originally led to the place being abandoned in the first place. The water had been killing people, even without flooding. And now it was all coming this way."
"It was all my fault," March whispered. She looked down at her lap, her hands balled up and twisted into her skirt. The dirt on her face had long ago been tracked through with tiny tears, smudged with muck again, then cried over once more. "I'm the one who suggested it."
"Suggested what?"
"I said that if he could part the waters like he did on the Loufu then I bet he could do it here, too. I thought... it was just a joke, we were all panicking at that point, I didn't mean for him to-- to do it! Not if it would hurt him! Stupid-- stupid idiot--"
She sniffled again, little shoulders quivering and fists squeezed tight. She looked truly and utterly miserable.
Jing Yuan swallowed, turning his gaze back to Dan Heng.
"It's not your fault," he heard himself say. Dan Heng panted between them, each shallow breath high and reedy. The pain laced underneath it made March's eyes crinkle with every gasp and Jing Yuan's chest tightened. "He's the one who made the decision, not you. You had no idea the risks. He did."
He wondered, then, how true that even was. Bailu had known exactly what had gone wrong, when she'd come to him for help. But Bailu had spent her whole life being taught what her body was capable of. Had anyone ever taught Dan Heng? Had he even known the risks himself?
"He was successful," Welt continued quietly, when March did not. "He'd told us to stay put, and there really was nowhere for us to evacuate to, so we were all still here when the flooding hit. The waves were tall enough that even without anything else to worry about they would've wiped this village off the map, but instead we just saw a bright light, and then the waters.... split. They parted around the village like we were just in some sort of giant bowl, and he kept them going until the current finally started to die down." He paused at last. The silence in the oppressive space weighed heavy, so heavily it was nearing uncomfortable. "We could've pulled a retreat to the Express, but no one else in the village would've made it. They're all still alive today because of what he did."
Dan Heng's breaths stuttered again, wavering between a wet cough and a heave. March moved forward, her hands shaking with near-exhaustion, and Jing Yuan helped her sprinkle new delicate crystals of ice over every bit of skin he could reach.
"Stelle and I found him after that," she mumbled. "He was in the village, in one of the puddles. He was already passed out; we... we thought he was just tired. That he'd over-extended himself. Mr. Yang went on ahead to seal the Stellaron while we stayed to keep an eye on him, but we thought he'd..."
She trailed off into nothing, dwindling by the word into silence. She looked back down at her lap, nothing at all like the headstrong firebrand that had helped save the Loufu. Not today.
Jing Yuan felt for his pulse again. Dan Heng's fingers twitched this time, curling against the blanket, and when he slipped his hand closer they grappled for it instead. They grasped so tight his nails dug into his skin, the heat burning close, and Jing Yuan could not make him let go.
He glanced back up when neither of the Nameless continued the story; March's gaze still on her knees, and Welt's lingering peculiarly on him. "And then?" he pressed. "When did you reach out for help?"
"The next morning," March returned, finally daring to meet his eyes for the first time. "Mr. Yang wasn't back yet but we could tell something was wrong. Stelle went back to the Express and they've been searching nearby planets for help, but keep running into doctors that have don't know anything about the Vidyadhara. That's when I thought to text Bailu, and... and that was when he started bleeding."
And now, he was like this.
Days, now. Still bleeding, still feverish, still unconscious.
He didn't want to think of how much worse it could've been, if they'd waited even one more day to ask for help.
Jing Yuan carefully squeezed his hand. Dan Heng continued to wheeze between them, and otherwise gave him no reply.
Ah, Dan Heng. The trouble you get yourself into.
And a lifetime ago, this would have been nothing to them. Nothing but a spot of trouble. One or the other injured after battle, calling for aid from the Xianzhou, assured that everything would be fine. Jing Yuan would bring Dan Feng silly comics of the wild adventures of fictional heroes, Dan Feng's cheeks always blushing pink at his guilty pleasure-- did he like them still? Dan Heng? And Dan Feng would heal him in return, the gentle High Elder's magic a balm more soothing than the powers of the entire Alchemy Commission, expending power until his eyelids drooped and his complexion was white.
Back then, it had been all he'd ever wanted. It had been so simple. It had been so easy.
He'd wanted that time to go on forever.
He didn't want forever anymore. The same sin that Dan Feng had been guilty of-- wanting forever. Now he just wanted whatever time they had left, and he wished it could be anywhere but on the filthy, bloody ground of a battlefield.
Someday, perhaps.
Jing Yuan cleared his throat, Dan Heng's hand shivering in his, and pressed on.
"I can help him," he said.
The stricken tension of the sickroom popped like a balloon. March was upright in an instant, with wide eyes and a big smile and her hands clasped together in desperate hope, and even the stoic Welt looked like a weight had just started to edge off his shoulders. They both looked to him with something eager and Jing Yuan could only smile back, as steady as he could be.
"He's going to be fine. Unless the Dragon Lady's retribution finishes him off first. Can one of you call the Express?" He nodded down at Dan Heng between them, his hand back down against his burning skin. "The first and most important thing he needs is to get off this planet."
March bolted up immediately, bright as a light for the first time in what had to have been days. She smiled huge around the dirt and sweat on her face, a true genuine beaming smile, and cried, "I'm on it!", already halfway to the door. Then she spun back and stumbled on one foot to spill another bucket's worth of ice for them all over the floor, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet, each step danced between crystals, still beaming and bright. "I'll be back! Call if you need me! Don't let up with the ice, I'll be back!"
And then she was gone. The door swung noisily back and forth in her wake, the hot humidity from the outside mingling with the smoke from the fires. The hinges whined in protest, and the tired old building creaked, but other than that, there was silence.
Jing Yuan slid his hand out from under Dan Heng's, carefully, as carefully as he could. Instead, he brought his attention to his face, the smallest trickle of blood just visible in the corner of his mouth. A bit of ice was enough to wipe it away, but he tensed and wheezed faster still when Jing Yuan tried to tempt it into his lips.
"Still stubborn, I see," he murmured.
Welt, almost noiselessly, claimed March's place for himself. His knowing gaze lingered on him again, just for a beat too long, before he focused down as well, touching Dan Heng's forehead with the back of his hand. His frown deepened.
"He's going to be all right," Jing Yuan said again. Quieter, this time. "Vidyadhara used to be an aquatic species. To this day, they remain extraordinarily sensitive to impurities in water, and can fall ill from even small doses of an unclean source. With how humid and polluted it is here, he probably would've started to feel ill even if there hadn't been a flood. We just need to get him off this planet and follow Bailu's instructions for detoxification, and he'll start to come right around."
Welt's gaze turned back to him, his frown deepened further still. "And the bleeding?"
"We're... not sure." Jing Yuan sucked his cheek in, chewing. The red smear was still on his lip, and when he looked down to his neck, the cut there was bleeding yet again. The long, shallow slice that matched no blade he had ever seen, and instead look like the skin had split by a force coming from the inside out.
"How much has Dan Heng told you?" he asked at last. "About who he is?"
Welt's eyes narrowed. In-between them, the past weighed heavily, an unspoken shadow of smoke and fire.
"Not very much. But if you have an explanation, I think I need to hear it." He tilted his head, every word a guarded almost-whisper. "The Nameless look after each other, and we can't do that if one of us had vulnerabilities and weaknesses that are kept secret."
Jing Yuan sighed, his eyes shut. Welt did certainly know how to pry.
"Not kept secret, I think. I doubt he understood it himself." He lingered for a moment, choosing his next words very, very carefully. "The High Elder of the Vidyadhara used to have incredible powers, of both healing and destruction. In more recent generations, their natural restorative powers have made the High Elder the only Vidyadhara to be able to withstand an environment as toxic as this planet. But he lost those healing powers with his last rebirth. He can't heal himself anymore. He can only destroy himself."
Dan Heng's breath caught. They both fell silent, held perfectly still, waiting until he stilled again. Jing Yuan slid a hand back to his chest, pressing gently, hoping to still him, but the hard tension burned into every inch of him did not ease. Another line of blood slipped down the hollow of his throat.
"You think he's destroying himself, then," Welt murmured, when the moment had passed. "To... get the poison out."
"Bailu thinks so. And I'm not in any position to agree or disagree with her. If she thinks that's what's going on, then all we can do is follow her lead."
She'd also muttered and huffed and swished her tail, grumbling about the Preceptors and how foolish they'd been to not even try to learn the limitations of Dan Heng's new body. She'd snapped that she wanted Dan Heng to come right back to the Loufu so they could figure this out together, and how stupid it was that even with his citizenship restored it was still too dangerous for him to return in such a vulnerable state. How dumb it was that they would never let her come to him herself.
She'd looked at him over the video call with big, scared eyes and demanded, "You make sure he gets back safe, okay?"
If Dan Heng was still keeping quiet about his past, then it wasn't his place to tell Welt any of this. Not about Bailu, not about the Preceptors. Not that the reason he probably hadn't even known how dangerous this planet was to him was that he'd been born in a prison cell and left to rot in it for over a decade. Not that he still, even now, couldn't really come home.
Or-- Jing Yuan glanced back to Welt again, and how he again looked after Dan Heng's fever with shadows under his eyes and flecks of blood on his fingertips. The pile of ice March had left for them, and had indeed spent three days in this musty terrible place making, over and over. The Express circling this backwater system for days, searching for anyone or anything that could help.
Perhaps they were taking him home. It just wasn't to the Loufu anymore.
It was probably, though he hated to admit it, for the best.
Another silence passed between them, this one broken only by the crackle of fire. Dan Heng's breathed seemed to have calmed down, though surely only for now. His pulse was still steady, under his hand. Beat after beat, thrumming hard in his chest. Still fighting. Still alive.
"We must thank you, for coming on such short notice," Welt said at last. When Jing Yuan glanced back it was to meet a piercing gaze again, eyes that said more than his face would tell. "Not many people would have come so far. Are you a friend of his?"
"A friend? I-" Jing Yuan stopped, the words lost, and then simply smiled instead, because there was no other answer.
"Perhaps someday," he said.
The shadows on Dan Heng's face remained, sweat and blood mixed over skin bruised and broken, and Jing Yuan slipped his hand into his again. Counting the breaths. Counting the heartbeats.
Perhaps someday, we'll know the same home.