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1. New Home
As the starskiff landed on the Xianzhou Zhuming, the arbiter general and chief craftsman, Huaiyan, waited for landing. Out of the ship’s belly stumbled a single young boy, periwinkle eyes dimmed by incomprehensible suffering.
This boy’s name was Yingxing, and he was the only survivor of the borision attack on his planet. Today, Huaiyan would be taking him in. It only made sense. After all, the wolf-like abundance monstrosities who had attacked had been Huaiyan and his fellow arbiter generals’ responsibilities to get rid of. With their failure came the deaths of everyone Yingxing had ever known. Though Huaiyan himself was accustomed to it– it being the constant cycle of death, mara, and suffering brought by the presence of the abundance– he knew that this child had probably just gone through the worst ordeal of his life.
“Hello,” he said, endeavoring to make his tone soft and stooping down so as not to scare the young boy. “I am General Huaiyan, and I maintain the title of arbiter general on the Xianzhou Zhuming. From today forward, I will be your guardian.”
Yingxing nodded shyly, hiding behind his bangs, a sheet of navy covering his left eye. “I…My name is Yingxing,” he introduced.
Huaiyan smiled softly. “It’s very nice to meet you, Yingxing.” Yingxing didn’t reply.
Standing up slowly, the arbiter general gestured for the youth to follow him. “Come, let us return to my abode. I imagine you’re tired, after…” he trailed off delicately, unsure how to finish his sentence. “...everything that has occurred.”
Yingxing nodded. Aside from everything he had gone through that day, he must’ve been feeling overwhelmed as well, Huaiyan surmised. After all, the unloading docks of starskiffs were all strategically placed around the busiest streets– the perfect way to draw in tourists.
“Follow closely, now,” Huaiyan instructed, walking slowly to allow the boy to keep up. Although he would have liked to hold Yingxing’s hand to ensure he didn’t get lost, Huaiyan did not yet know how Yingxing might’ve felt about something like that, and he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by asking. It seemed Huaiyan would just have to stay alert and keep an eye out. Yingxing followed uniformly next to Huaiyan as he began to walk slowly down the busy street, almost as if he was an adorable little duckling. Huaiyan couldn’t help but to chuckle, and Yingxing offered a fake, almost forced, smile.
While walking, Huaiyan noticed Yingxing eyeing something in his peripheral vision. Following his gaze, Huaiyan saw what he was looking at: a regular old food stand, one you could find anywhere on the Xianzhou. That’s right, Huaiyan realized. He had originally been planning on making Yingxing something when they arrived home, but Yingxing, being from a foreign planet, had most likely never tried local Xianzhou delicacies and would be undoubtedly curious.
“Do you want some?” he asked, coming to a stop and gesturing to the food stand.
Yingxing shook his head. “It’s okay. I don’t need it.”
Huaiyan smiled reassuringly, but his insides were twisting with sorrow. This poor, poor, child, who had just seen his whole family die, and yet still couldn’t allow himself any indulgences. Huaiyan would’ve preferred it if he had been kicking and screaming and lashing out. This cold, sorrowful weariness was far too much to bear for anyone, and even more so for someone as young as he. “Well, that wasn’t my question. I asked if you wanted it, not if you needed it.”
Hesitantly, Yingxing nodded.
And so, the arbiter general walked to the stall, the young boy following close behind.
“It’s nice to see you, General Huaiyan!” said Xiao Zhou, the foxian manager of the food cart. A good kid, but there was a certain tension screwing up his face that Huaiyan had scarcely seen before. “How have you been?”
Huaiyan nodded. “I’ve been decent,” he replied. “What about you? How’s your wife, Xiao Zhou? Has she been well?”
Xiao Zhou’s smile faltered. “Well…she’s been getting worse. It’s to be expected, given her age of course, but…”
Now he looked like he might burst into tears, pausing for a second while breathing in and out. Yet, Huaiyan thought he knew what was coming. Xiao Zhou was a foxian, and foxians couldn’t become marastruck, wouldn’t go crazy and become reduced to only the worst of his memories. His wife on the other hand… “I don’t know what I’d do if she became marastruck. It’s a bit selfish, but… I don’t want to be the only one to remember everything between us.”
“It’s not selfish, not selfish at all,” said Huaiyan quietly. “ I wish you two the best.”
Xiao Zhou nodded gratefully, wiping his eyes and plastering on a smile. “So, what will it be today, General?”
Noticing Yingxing, Xiaozhou’s face began to soften, his tension dissipating slightly. “Oh! And this is?”
“Yingxing,” said Huaiyan, gesturing to him. “I’ll be taking care of him. I was going to take him back home, but your stand seems to have caught his eye.”
Xiao Zhou nodded, smiling again, a lot more genuine this time. It seemed he really liked the praise. “So, what will it be, kid?” he asked, leaning on his stand. Yingxing ducked behind Huaiyan’s legs, surprising the latter. Shyly, he stuck his eyes out, pointing at the sticks of sweet red candied fruit on display.
“Ah! Berrypheasant skewers. A best seller!” said Xiao Zhou. “Excellent choice.”
Picking two of the best skewers off the cart, he handed them both to Yingxing, who tentatively took a bite. Eyes lighting up, Yingxing chewed, his face looking as if he had been given a taste of Lan themself.
Xiao Zhou waved off Huaiyan’s hand as he tried paying with strales. “How many times do I have to tell you! You don’t pay here! You do enough for our ship.”
Huaiyan pushed the money back toward the foxian. “I have always paid here, and you can’t stop me no matter how many times you tell me not to,” he said. “Besides,” Huaiyan’s voice dropped lower. “You should take it and use it to buy medicine from the Alchemy Commision.”
Xiao Zhou sighed. “Alright, General. You really do know how to make me accept.”
“Good,” said Huaiyan. “Alright, we better be going now.” As much as Yingxing looked like he enjoyed the skewers, Huaiyan knew that the boy was more than likely still as tired as ever.
Xiaozhou nodded, seeming to understand. “Bye, general,” he said, waving.
Huaiyan waved back, turning to Yingxing. “Come along.” Yingixing came alert, still chewing on his berrypheasant skewers. At a short trot, the two began to head towards Huaiyan’s palace once more.
“So, Yingxing,” said Huaiyan, making small talk. “What do you want to do when you grow up?”
“My dad is–” the child paused, the silence thickening horribly. Yingxing swallowed as Huaiyan waited patiently for him to continue, eyes soft and understanding. “Was, I mean. He was a craftsman. I wanted to be like him before…”
Before. Before his planet was attacked. Before his parents had been murdered. Before he had been like a fish trapped in a sea full of sharks, living out a fleeting life of only one hundred years– if he was lucky– in a land full of species who would live for at least five times that much. Just before.
And yet, Huaiyan couldn’t help but latch onto the middle of the sentence, smiling because he did in fact know something Yingxing did not. “A craftsman, huh? Well, luckily for you, the Zhuming is the artisan-based ship of the Xianzhou, and I’m its chief craftsman.”
The incredulity on Yingxing’s face was full of the life he had lacked from the moment that he had landed on the Zhuming. “Really?” he asked.
Huaiyan gestured to some of the stands as they passed. “Really! Look, there’s many artisan stands– each product made and sold on the Zhuming! If you want, I can take you in as my disciple, and you can still become a craftsman.”
Yingxing gave a tentative, but genuine, smile. “I…yes. I…I know I want that.”
Huaiyan smiled back. “Then it’s decided.”
As they fell back into silence, Huaiyan felt a tug on the side of his robes. Looking down, he saw that Yingxing had grabbed hold of them with his tiny hand. Huaiyan could feel his lips turning up further. He refrained from patting Yingxing on his head.
Maybe Yingxing wasn’t exactly used to the Xianzhou– or Huaiyan– just yet. But he was making progress.
And that was all that mattered.
2. New Friend
The click clack of heels against the boardwalk faded into the distance, swallowed by the wind. A purple-haired foxian, an important representative of the Nameless and a figure on the Luofu, paid a visit to the Xianzhou Zhuming to request reinforcements. Standing on the end of the dock stood a figure, presumably the arbiter general of the ship.
However, the more Baiheng drew closer, the more she realized that it couldn’t be the case. General Huaiyan was older than most, but his back had not yet begun to shrink downward. This was a young boy, with long navy hair and periwinkle eyes, wearing the uniform of the Xianzhou artisanship commission. Looking at him, it was as if he was trying to seem as small as possible, shrinking in on himself.
“Hello, you must be Miss Baiheng,” the boy almost whispered, avoiding direct eye contact and bowing. “I am Yingxing, a disciple of Master Huaiyan. I will be your–um– your escort to Flamewheel forge.”
Baiheng paused. This boy looked young, young as can be, maybe around twenty in long-life standards. To already be declared the disciple of General Huaiyan at this age–he must be some kind of prodigy. But, worse, Baiheng was afraid that this was some kind of sign. To send a child to greet her on such an important request…was Huaiyan hinting that he didn’t intend to send the army necessary to defeat the abundance? But, that wasn’t like Huaiyan, a man well known to try to help others in any way he could. Perhaps something bad had happened on the Zhuming as well?
Baiheng shook her head. Better to stay calm and assess the situation. Nothing good would come of panic. “Hi, Yingxing,” she greeted the child, smiling. “It’s nice to meet you! How do you do?”
“I-I’m doing okay,” he said, seemingly perplexed she was asking after his well-being. “Um–I’m only a short-life species. There’s no need to entertain conversation needlessly, I have little time to spend in leisure, so I understand if you do not wish to talk to me.”
The purple-haired foxian felt her eyes widen. So, he was even younger than she had originally thought, then, as short-life species aged much faster. Maybe around eight? He must be exceptionally skilled indeed. However…
“What do you mean by you’re ‘only a short-life species’?” she asked. She knew; many of the more prejudiced long-life species tended to look down on those with shorter lifespans. They wouldn’t live as long, so they would never truly amount to anything, a short blip of existence in the long process of the universe. But, Baiheng could only wonder at what anybody could think anything of the sort of Yingxing specifically.
Huaiyan, though kind-hearted, was not one to take a disciple out of pity. And Huaiyan himself was an incredible craftsman, perhaps the best their world had ever seen. For Yingxing to be thinking this way was only possible if some buzzing gnats had been whispering in his ear, sowing doubts and discord.
Baiheng’s theory was confirmed when Yingxing next spoke. “The other celestial masters…they say that I won’t amount to anything,” he said, frowning. It seemed this had been weighing on his mind for a long time. “Many people prefer to not form a connection with me, and not without reason. It’s not like I have any less ambition than them, but I just don’t have the time it takes to be truly great.”
Baiheng couldn’t help but feel bad for this kid, all youthful and trembling. He had such a life ahead of him, full of possibilities, talent, and opportunity, but here even he was, being told it would not be enough. That he was not enough. That was just proof, she reflected sadly, that no matter who you were or what you did, you would never be enough for somebody out there. How unlucky he was, to be trapped on a fleet of ships where his talents were unable to shine to their full potential due to plain old prejudice.
“Hey…” she said, crouching down so that she would be able to speak to him at eye level. “Living a shorter time doesn’t make you any less capable of being great.”
At the dubious look he shot her, she smiled. “I mean it! Listen, you may not have the same amount of time, but what does that matter? You’re here, aren’t you? Those old geezers would have loved to be the disciple of some big master or other at your age—heck! I bet some of them were gunning to be Huaiyan’s disciples.”
Yingxing dithered, seemingly unsure of what to think. “That might be true but…what they’re saying isn’t exactly wrong.” How sad, for their rhetoric to be expressed so much that he felt the need to repeat it, even now. “No matter what I do, they still have tens or even hundreds of years more life than I do, even if we do put in the same amount of ambition.”
“Then you’ll just have to put in a thousand times the ambition, won’t you?” Baiheng replied, her lips pulling further upwards when she saw the light slowly growing in Yingxing’s eyes. Dull greyish-blue sprung into a vibrant periwinkle–a stark contrast, all created by one little difference– hope.
“Yeah!” he said, smiling for the first time she had seen. He really lived up to his name—his smile was as bright as a shooting star indeed.
Standing up, Baiheng brushed herself off. “Now, let’s be on our way, shall we? We can’t keep the General from waiting too long.” She especially couldn’t afford to. She was here on a serious matter, after all, not just a friendly visit.
Yingxing nodded, body language a lot more open than before. “Let’s go!!”
As it turned out, Huaiyan was not at all snubbing the Xianzhou, willing to invest just as many fighters as them for what was decidedly not his fight. More than anything, he had wanted for Yingxing to get an outside perspective favorable towards short-life species, as he had shown a tendency towards disbelief bordering on incredulity every time the general had brought it up. Which, Baiheng could attest to, he was given.
However, there was one thing this encounter would make her come to realize; under his beard and kindly smile, Huaiyan was cunning, and he was willing to do whatever it took to encourage Yingxing to have a good life.
Looking up and smiling at nothing in particular, Baiheng reflected that maybe, just maybe, Yingxing wasn’t so unlucky after all, if he had this man to look after him.
3. New Title
It had finally happened. The day had come. Yingxing, now an adult, had bested long-life species tens of times his age in competitions, often forging for days on end without food, water, or sleep on sheer willpower alone. Now, his efforts had finally, finally paid off.
He was officially the new master craftsman of the Xianzhou Luofu. He could craft to his own contentment, knowing in his heart of hearts that he was done. He had proven his worth to all, and nobody could deny it now. Nobody would be able to say that it was only Huaiyan boosting him that had brought him to where he was. Yingxing had done it himself, with his own two hands. Hands worn already, even in his early twenties, with small callouses in every crack, yet hands that were uniquely his. Hands that had crafted elegant masterpieces, from weapons to jeweled filigree. Hands that had propelled him into the being he was today. Hands that had shown his disbelievers, had shown the world, had shown himself, that time wasn’t needed to succeed.
He had become a legend, even with his own mortality, and he was proud of it. Something he had once been so ashamed of had become his greatest pride, or as Jingliu– Baiheng’s closest friend (or maybe something more) and the greatest swordsmaster of the Luofu– would say: his greatest arrogance.
But even then, something had to end. He had long since accepted that now, the idea that for something to be great while it lasts, it must also reach its conclusion. Still, embracing his master, his father figure, someone who had welcomed him with open arms into a place that hardly accepted him, knowing that he was going to leave– it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“There, there,” said Master Huaiyan, patting Yingxing on his back as tears came trickling out of periwinkle eyes. “I’ll only be a single starskiff away. It’s not like you can’t come to visit.” He was virtually unchanged from the man he had been when first taking Yingxing in, yet Yingxing had already grown so much, already over a head taller than him. But, even so, there was a softness to the way he smiled that had Yingxing feeling like a little kid again, innocent and lively.
The kid he had been able to grow into only because of the man in front of him, who saw not his species, nor his age–only his thirst to do something with himself, to push himself to be the best he could. Huaiyan had seen that, had honed his skills and given him all the tools he needed, yet still left all the choices up to Yingxing in the end. And for that, his student son would always be grateful.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” said Yingxing, shaky sobs muffled by Huaiyan’s coat. It was a silly request. Master Huaiyan had long since been doing so. He wasn’t the oldest person on all the Xianzhou ships for nothing. He took care of himself fine, even without Yingxing reminding him. Huaiyan just smiled, understanding what he meant.
“I will,” he said, patting Yingxing on the head like he had done so many times before. “You take care of yourself too. Make sure you come back to visit!” Smiling, he added “I’ll always be here.” To an outsider, it might’ve looked comical–the tall, broad-shouldered man bending down, his face buried in the coat of the aging middle aged man in front of him with tears and snot dribbling down his face. But, to Yingxing, to Huaiyan, to everyone who knew them both, it was a goodbye. A sun setting on the horizon, a phase of life ending, and a new sun rising, bigger and brighter than ever before.
Nobody– Baiheng, Jingliu, or even her sword trainee Jing Yuan– knew what was to come for Yingxing on the Luofu. However, no matter how one felt about Yingxing, from friendship to slight disdain to friendly rivalry, nobody could deny that he was meant for great things.
4. New Lover
A jade spear, elegant and fluid as its water-controlling wielder, meant to be used as an extension to his own body, a single character engraved on the handle–丹(dan). Dan Feng, the high elder on the Xianzhou vidyadhara, would certainly like it. Yingxing smiled, pleased with himself and his own handiwork.
Dan Feng had long since disapproved of using a weapon in battle. “Why use a clunky sword when I can use cloudhymn magic?” he would say, waving his hand. Dan Feng was always, in Yingxing’s long decades of knowing him better than anybody else on the Xianzhou, exceptionally proud of himself– and for good reason. The very definition of a refined and otherworldly being, it was no wonder that Yingxing was, with no better way to put it, completely smitten.
Among the high-cloud quintet, the group of five dedicated to protecting the Xianzhou from the abundance creatures that had taken everything away from Yingxing oh so long ago, it would not be a stretch to say Dan Feng and Yingxing were the closest to one another– perhaps only tied with Jingliu and Baiheng.
Friendly spars with drinking cups clinking together in the moonlight, alcohol glistening within with an intoxicating sheen. Green eyes others claimed to be so cold and bleak, lighting up with a fervor that only ever showed up once Yingxing was in the room. A towering presence that would drag Yingxing away from his workshop, claiming to be bored but really just worried at the weeks without sustenance the craftsman was going through. Years upon years of stolen moments, sneaked glances, and everything else.
But…Yingxing was but a short-life species, and his time was running out. He wanted to spend as much time as possible next to Dan Feng, sharing the burdens that came with being high elder as best as he could. He wanted to wake up next to him everyday, to make him breakfast in the morning, to be able to drag him away from those preceptor meetings he hated so much for some fresh air. If he could, he would give Dan Feng the long courting period he deserved, with all the gifts and dances and romantic words to boot, but he simply didn’t have the time.
Yingxing was never really good with words. They didn’t really understand him the way artisanship did, the steadiness of metal beneath his fingers a far cry from paper and brush. However, as he presented the spear, Cloud-piercer, he named it, to his dearest high elder, Yingxing hoped that Dan Feng could see the love letter carved into every curve, every sharp point, and most of all, in his name.
The care he had put into this, his newest masterpiece, far exceeded that of even the other weapons of the high-cloud quintet– Baiheng’s Recurve Bow, Jingliu’s Shard Sword, and Jing Yuan’s Starfell Reverie. His craftsmanship was always otherworldly, he was quite arrogant about that, but even Yingxing knew this one was on another level.
“This spear is sharp enough to pierce through dragon scales,” he murmured, careful to keep his voice playful while his heart felt like it might beat out of his chest. “Be careful, high elder, lest you hurt yourself with it.” A flash of some unnamed emotion crossed Dan Feng’s face–there one second, gone the next. Yingxing blinked. Shaking his head, he decided that he had just been seeing things.
Moving the spear forward, Yingxing dropped it into the lithe hands of the vidyadhara. Testing it with a few jabs, Dan Feng nodded, a slight smile crossing his lips. “Excellent work as always, Yingxing,” he said. “Just as you guaranteed, it is like an extension of the body– not that I doubted you for a moment, of course.”
Yingxing chuckled, reminding himself to stay calm. Wait for the right moment to say everything he had been thinking since forever, what he was longing to finally express. “Of course! Who do you think I am?”
Turning it over in his palms, Dan Feng frowned. “Yingxing…” he said, observing the carving of the character within his name– Dan. Yingxing knew why he was reacting that way. Vidyadhara were rebirthing creatures, living out many lifetimes as many different people, and this was especially true for high elders. Nothing truly belonged to a vidyadhara in the moment, it belonged to their soul, the many rebirths they would go through, every single next life they would have. For Yingxing to carve out part of Dan Feng’s name into the weapon was a sign of rebellion, even if he didn’t view it that way. A connection, however tenuous, Dan Feng and Yingxing’s bond would have on the next high elder, and all the ones after that. A way that Dan Feng would finally have something to claim as his own.
And Dan Feng knew this too, hence why his eyebrows were scrunched together in a cute little pout. Or, at least, that’s what Yingxing thought.
“Oh, that?” he said, pretending he hadn’t been thinking about whether or not he should take the chance for hours on end. “C’mon now, don’t worry! It’s just…a reminder of sorts, I suppose.”
Dan Feng tilted his head to the side. “A…reminder?”
“That you are your own person, outside of being high elder,” said Yingxing, reaching out hesitantly for Dan Feng’s hand on his spear. When the dragon hybrid did not pull away, Yingxing placed his slightly larger, rougher calloused palm, the palm of a craftsman, over Dan Feng’s, smooth as silk. Lightly brushing a thumb over skin, he continued, avoiding eye contact. “A reminder that even though there was a life before you and one after you, that we- I- that I care about–”
Yingxing cut himself off. That wasn’t good enough. There weren't enough words to truly describe how he felt about Dan Feng. But, if he could describe them in a few…
…
“I love you.”
A light gasp escaped from the vidyadhara, and Yingxing, looking up, was delighted to find his face cherry red. “Oh, come on!” Yingxing laughed, even though moments before he had been nothing but nerves. Dan Feng always had that effect on him. “You must know that by now, at least.”
Dan Feng shook his head, pulling out his hands from Yingxing’s–leaving him disappointed, but only for a moment. Soon after, he had placed the spear back into its casing with a gentle touch, as if it was something to be cherished, and he had returned his hands into Yingxing’s, blushing harder at the look of delight on his face and light caresses. “I must confess I did not,” he replied, looking away bashfully. “But it is not an unwelcome discovery.”
Yingxing smiled teasingly. “Is it, now?” Dan Feng just nodded, face still red. “Then…” Yingxing started, “would you like to start seeing each other, in a romantic way?”
“I think you already know the answer,” said Dan Feng, embarrassed, huffing haughtily.
Yingxing smiled even wider, if that was even possible. His cheek muscles were beginning to burn. “I still want to hear you say it,” he replied.
“...Alright,” Dan Feng relented, after a moment of silence. “I…love you too,” he said, smiling wide at the look of incredulity on Yingxing’s face. “What? Didn’t I do as you asked?” he teased. If Yingxing’s smile was the stars, then Dan Feng’s was a moon, less shiny, maybe, but glowing with a certain tranquility that Yingxing would never be able to have. How could this beautiful, thoughtful, sarcastic, wonderfully witty person be interested in Yingxing of all people?
Snapping out of his almost trance-like state, Yingxing suddenly pulled Dan Feng into a hug–tight, yet not suffocating. Pausing for only a second, Dan Feng hugged him back, and Yingxing found a second embrace that felt to him like home.
Later on in their relationship, Dan Feng would admit, blushing, that the reason why he had seemed so ‘off’ during Yingxing’s confession was because he had been afraid that, even after all the time they spent together, Yingxing viewed him as only a high elder. To have his fears so thoroughly subverted by Cloud-piercer’s carving must’ve been startling indeed.
To this, Yingxing would laugh, kissing his lover on the cheek, confessing that he had spent countless hours, days and nights months before even drawing up the spear’s diagram, wondering if he should put the carving onto the spear.
And then Dan Feng would laugh in return, smile so wide the previously ‘indifferent’ high elder was hardly recognizable. Then, he would pull Yingxing into a kiss, his lips tasting like grapefruit and waterlily– just as they did every time.
5. New Battle
Years would once again pass by, this time in bliss. Yingxing had already made a name for himself, his weapons gaining worldwide renown. He had a group of friends that he loved, a family back home, and a lover he cherished more than anything else. He had the opportunity to fight the monsters that had killed his family. His life was good– but it was also drawing to a close. Wrinkles had started forming on his face, slowly increasing over time. His hair, once a dark navy color, had lightened to a dusty silver. Even though none of them wanted to admit it, one thing was clear-Yingxing’s time with them in the world above was coming to an end. And Yingxing knew this too.
He could have no regrets. True, he would much like to spend more time with these wonderful people, but life was only a gift because it must end, someday, somehow. He had had a good run, spending time doing things he believed in and fighting next to people he loved.
Master Huaiyan was beginning to age, white hairs permeating black. Yingxing supposed it was to be expected, after thousands of years of aging, even as a long life species. Baiheng looked the same, youthful and bright as always, a close confidant and one of the people he trusted the most, like an older sister. Jingliu was cold and cynical to everyone that wasn’t Baiheng and maybe Jing Yuan– that much was to be expected. But, Yingxing saw it as progress that she had been less so as time has passed, and though she wouldn’t say, he knew that the quintet had also grown to be a quintessential part of her life. Jing Yuan had become less of a knuckle-headed kid over the years, and it seemed he would surely be given the job of general on the Xianzhou–though he had originally longed to be a galaxy ranger. And Dan Feng…
Dan Feng would have to go on without him, he supposed. A matching set of vidyadhara-crafted wedding bracers, exchanged during their engagement ceremony under the moon. Matching jade pendants that fit perfectly into one another, crafted by Yingxing himself to be placed into the mouth after death to meet the lover in the next life. Matching red tassel earrings, Dan Feng’s on his right and Yingxing’s on his left, a complete set.
Dan Feng was determined to find a way to name a new high elder, doing research into every possible avenue of escape, to be able to leave his duties behind to someone else while he ran away to elope with Yingxing. And Yingxing helped, making sure, again and again, that was what Dan Feng wanted. Giving up the title of high elder was a taboo subject–it had never even been attempted before.
However, as time went on, Yingxing, though not despairing of succeeding at last, for giving up was not in his nature, began to realize; Dan Feng…he needed to come to terms with the fact that Yingxing would eventually die one day soon. It was no longer something on the horizon, a talk for ‘one day’.
Though Yingxing was as strong and skilled as ever, his age left no doubt that his time would be soon. Yingxing was exceedingly arrogant, a proud craftsman as well as warrior. He believed that living longer than necessary was just a cruelty. He did not want to see the day where his eyesight would grow blurry, his legs would fail him, and, worst of all, he did not want to see the day when his hands wouldn’t be able to craft, dexterous no longer.
One day, the two lovers were sitting under the moonlight, with Dan Feng resting his head against Yingxing’s shoulder, sitting comfortably in silence like they had done so many times before. Ginkgo leaves fell, dusting Yingxing’s hair in its updo with a scattering of yellow, but he didn’t much care– though if Dan Feng’s hands brushing through the silver strands said anything, it seemed he did. A moment of peace in their busy lives, undisturbed and free to do as they wished, understanding one another, even without any words. This was always when Dan Feng was most carefree, willing to say and do things he would otherwise refuse.
This would’ve, could’ve been the perfect moment to say something, to tell Dan Feng that he would have to let go, if not now then soon. However, Yingxing didn’t break the silence. He was too scared– scared that he would ruin the mood, that Dan Feng would despair needlessly for something they couldn’t avoid, and worst of all, that Dan Feng would refuse to go on without him. And so, he stayed silent– there was no need to talk about something the both of them already knew, anyways.
Soon, the moment was gone, interrupted by the quick tapping of footsteps on the path leading to their clearing. Jing Yuan burst in, breathing heavily and eyes wide in fear. “Yingxing…Imbibitor Lunae,” he said, addressing Dan Feng with his proper title. “The Xianzhou is…under…attack,” he continued, catching his breath.
Dan Feng stood up quickly, lifting his head from Yingxing’s shoulder and offering a hand, which Yingxing used to pull himself up. As members of the legendary high cloud quintet, it was necessary to fight back against attacks on the Xianzhou, more likely than not to be caused by Yaoshi’s abundance monsters.
“What is it this time, Jing Yuan?” asked Dan Feng, guard up. Not that Yingxing could blame him. The last time, they had been charged with fighting Hoolay, the king of the borison, the fleet that had destroyed Yingxing’s home planet. He had been no easy opponent, and even then, Jing Yuan had not been even close to as panicked as he was now.
“Shuhu!” replied Jing Yuan, exclaiming. “The abundance emanator.”
A ripple of fear seemingly flowed through the air when he said that, turning what was just a peaceful night into a moment of absolute chaos. Shuhu. Shuhu. His flesh was known for its ability to regenerate, over and over again. Was it even possible to truly kill him?
Mara was a monster eating away at the Xianzhou, against everything Yingxing stood for. It was unnatural, a force that drove older long-life species– excluding the rebirthing vidyadhara and free foxians– to rampage, killing people without a brain to think for themselves any longer. It was a force that changed them, until their form was no longer humanoid, wiping their memories until it was only their worst recollections, until their brain no longer resembled anything close to human. Then, they would be put down by the Ten Lords’ Commission as well as the cloud knights, taken down by people who might’ve been their closest friends previously.
It was worse when mortals aspired to be marastruck, trying to become ‘immortal’. It wasn’t like Yingxing didn’t understand the reasoning behind it– he was just baffled that it was even an option for most people. Yes, you would live so long as you weren’t killed, and you could also revive yourself once. But so what? Was that really worth the cost of your reasoning and sanity, your humanity? It was what happened to Shuhu, once a mortal turned emanator due to his role in the revival of planet Rahu. It was what the Sanctus Medicus were intent on pushing to everybody, a so-called new evolution to the human race. It was a crime, punishable by a means worse than death.
Yingxing forced a smile, deciding that this fight wasn’t impossible to win– just mostly impossible . “Well…let’s get going then?” His voice sounded weak, even to himself. In his peripheral vision, he could see Dan Feng shoot him a worried glance, something he was prone to doing more than ever these days.
Jing Yuan nodded. “Let’s go!” Without checking if they were following, the kid ran off. With how fast he ran, you would think he was the short-life species instead of Yingxing, constantly running out of time, similar to an hour glass. With a sigh, Yingxing followed behind, feeling Dan Feng’s piercing gaze on his back.
Little did the three of them know, this would be the fight their lives would fall apart. Baiheng would die saving Dan Feng, and, devastated, Dan Feng would go through a plan so dangerous and unexpected, attempting to change her into the new high elder. Yingxing would go along, unknowing, just wanting to help his husband, not knowing he would become the aid to bring the friend who had encouraged him to be proud of being mortal into an immortal monstrosity.
It would go wrong, horribly wrong. Baiheng would become a beast, killed by Jingliu, who, marastruck with grief, would kill anyone and anything in her path until Jing Yuan put an end to her antics.
Baiheng was dead. Her spirit was alive, stuck in the half successful high elder Dan Feng had created, but it wasn’t truly her, not really. Jingliu was crazy. Blaming everyone but Jing Yuan for Baiheng’s death, she would make a deal with an aeon to regain her sanity, her ultimate goal being almost impossible– to kill an aeon. Dan Feng was punished. Locked in the shackling prison, he was forced into molting rebirth, a turnback on the aging process. He would reject his past, yet eventually learn he both was and wasn’t the same person on the other side. Dan Heng, his new incarnation, would cherish the spear made all those years ago, staring at it with eyes of forever longing, though not completely remembering its origin. Jing Yuan was left alone. Becoming arbiter general of the Xianzhou Luofu, the same position Huaiyan had on the Zhuming, he would take in a young boy, teaching him all the methods of swordplay his long disgraced master had taught him, so many years ago. And Yingxing….
He suffered a fate worse than death.
+1: New Life, Old Grudges
It hurt. Everything hurt. When the unnamed opened his eyes once more, a red-eyed woman looked down at him with absolute hatred marring her gaze. He did not know who he was. He did not remember. He only knew pain and death and revival, death being the most pleasant part. At least if he was dead, he wouldn’t have to feel this pain any longer. “Of five, three must pay a price,” said the woman again. “Do you remember?”
When he did not reply, the sword went through again, shattering as it sliced through his chest. The flesh around it began to knit together once more. He had lost count of how many times she had repaired her sword, but every time it broke, it hurt more than just physically. The unnamed had a feeling that he had known this sword well, maybe a long time ago, had known its weight and balance like the back of his palm.
Shard sword, she’d said. She had said a lot of things. Baiheng’s fate was his fault, she’d said. Imbibtor Lunae needed to pay, she’d said. He was nothing now, a monstrosity with Shuhu’s flesh thrust inside himself, she’d said. That was why he could not truly die, no matter how many times she killed him, she’d said. He no longer had reason to be arrogant, she’d said. His hands, which had long since gone numb, were disfigured, no longer dexterous, she’d said–the unnamed could no longer decipher his emotion at that, but he knew it wasn’t pleasant. Nothing he felt was pleasant any longer.
Eventually, she must’ve grown tired of him, for when he woke up, she was no longer there, shard sword left behind as well. It was like a goodbye, and it seemed to be a personal message to him–she would not make use of a weapon so thoroughly associated with him, he wasn’t even worthy of being a tool.
Memories, jumbled and disorientating, fought for dominance in his head. That man, the one with a piercing gaze. He had done this to him. Imbibitor Lunae, the woman had called him.
The unnamed knew, without knowing how he knew it, that he was no longer a human, a far cry from the craftsman he was before– just an empty husk. Whoever he had been had died that day, and whatever had been revived from that corpse had been abandoned, left to suffer. Pain shot through his entire body and mind, leaving him almost delirious from pressure.
Drinking melted snow and killing wild beasts to stay alive, the unnamed pinned his hair up with a stick, only for that stick to blossom with growing flowers. Belatedly, the unnamed couldn’t decide which he was like more–the hairstick, a dead thing that should not be, growing alive once more– or the Shard Sword, something taken apart over and over again and used as a weapon for other people’s benefit.
Later, this man would adopt that very name– Blade, swordsmaster of the stellaron hunters, a vigilante organization. He would find Dan Feng’s reincarnation, marastruck, seeking to make him pay for his sins, only to find that Dan Heng barely remembered what he had done in his past life, didn’t remember him–until he did. He wouldn’t craft, hands too shaky, with ropes of scar tissue constantly reopening every time he took part in a fight. But, most importantly, he would search for death in every corner, a way to finally put an end to the monstrosity that he was, a being that contradicted his own beliefs. A way to get rid of all the pain and resentment he felt, to finally be free. A final death, side by side, with the person he had loved in both lifetimes, seven hundred years after the first one. A final end, which would make everything he had done, the legacy he had left behind for future craftsmen, actually mean something.
Only then, he surmised, would he once again take pleasure in the spirit of life.
Epilogue
As Huaiyan stepped off the starskiff, taking in the bright scenery of the Xianzhou Luofu, he couldn’t help but to think of him. The student he had raised as his own, had seen grow up, his student who had left the Zhuming for the Luofu, once upon a time. His student, who had taken on the burden of a thousand men' s suffering.
Sensing her grandfather’s contemplation, Yunli attempted to run off, only to be noticed by the sharp eyed arbiter general. “Yunli…” Huaiyan said, shaking his head. This was to be expected, he supposed. “What are you up to now?”
Yunli smiled unabashedly, bright as anything. Some days, Huaiyan would see a shooting star in that smile, a constant reminder of what had been. “Look, grandfather!” she said, pointing at the food stand. “They have berrypheasant skewers!”
Huaiyan shook his head amusedly, chuckling. It wasn’t as if it was Yunli’s first time having the sweet dessert, present on all the Xianzhou ships, but she was swept away again each time, as if seeing something wholly new. It was only right to treat her, especially given the surprise he had packed as the prize to the War Dance. More than that, Huaiyan wanted Yunli’s first memory of the Luofu to be a pleasant one.
“Alright, alright,” he conceded, handing her a few strales. “Don’t buy too many. You still need room for dinner.” Patting her head, Huaiyan let Yunli go–she was well enough able to take care of herself, and there was business with the other arbiter generals he must attend to quickly. Jing Yuan’s sentence for working with the stellaron hunters as well as enlisting the help of Dan Heng, the disgraced criminal, was no easy decision.
Deciding to start walking to the seat of divine foresight, Huaiyan was stopped dead in his tracks by a wanted poster with a familiar face on it. Yingxing, as he would always be to Huaiyan, was plastered to a billboard, features drawn, tired and cold. His hair, once put up, was fully down, with– even though this poster did not show it– newly red ends matching with his freshly red eyes. Even so, Huaiyan could tell that if they were standing next to each other, Yingxing would look most similar to his young adult self. Already taller than Huaiyan before Huaiyan’s spine had shrunk with age, Huaiyan could only imagine how tall he would be now.
He looked so…tired. Defeated. Once a bright presence with the ability to light up any room, Yingxing seemed to have lost all his color.
“Is that him, grandpa?” asked Yunli, returning with five berrypheasant skewers in hand. “Yingxing, I mean.” She must’ve noticed that her grandfather was just standing there, unmoving. Whenever Yunli asked Huaiyan who his most skilled disciple was, there could only be one answer. Yingxing, forever and always. Adopted by Huaiyan just like he was, Yunli was enthusiastic to ask questions, and Huaiyan had spared no detail.
Huaiyan smiled lovingly. “Yes,” he replied. “To me, he will always be Yingxing.”