Work Text:
“That outfit you're wearing,” a voice calls out from behind Dan Heng, causing him to suddenly stand uptight in what can only be described as tenseness. “Where is it from?”
“Oh.” He relaxes for a mere moment when he turns around, seeing you look at his clothes with keen curiosity. It would seem that the "extraterrestrial" attire both him and his companion are proudly wearing have indeed stirred up some sort of gossip amongst the citizens.
On second thought, he finds it the only logical consequence. Though he rushes to somehow rationalize his obvious miscalculation by offering himself the grace of blaming it on everything that transpired the last few days. Beyond overwhelming would be a slight understatement.
“I'm from Thalassopolis,” he answers smoothly, having already improvised the lie with Damionis at their earlier encounter. “My companion as well.”
There's a pause in the dialogue, a small shift in your expression before you smile. Dan Heng almost holds his breath in anticipation but manages to outwardly remain unaffected.
“Ah, Thalassopolis, of course. Though you're the first ever person I've met from there.” You spare a last once-over at him before looking back at his eyes. “I'm curious. What fish did people use to fish out during the month of Evernight? I've heard very conflicted responses from different sources so I think it'd be best if I managed to get an answer from a local.”
His eyes widen. You're testing him? For a moment he pretends to ponder, hoping you'll confuse his increased stress for inability to recall the exact details.
“If memory serves right, during the month of Evernight, we used to harvest atherinas,” he says with a certainty that is unbefitting to a liar. In all honesty, he's currently shooting in the dark and hopes he somehow strikes gold in a river that's been completely wiped clean of minerals.
The only hint he has so far used to his advantage is his previous access to the Data Bank in the Astral Express. Atherina is the name of a fish in a planet far away from Amphoreus and truthfully with minimal similarities to the latter. However he remembers a lot of phonetically alike names in the planets' dictionary. It was one of the first things he thought of upon reading the few documents he could get his hands on here.
Of course, that by no means guarantees that Atherinas exist here, too. He's uncertain of whether this planet even shares the same ecosystem as the one housing them. In fact, every odd is against him.
Your expression morphs into what he can only call amazement; lips slightly parted and eyes wide. Then you laugh, incredibly amused. “Wow! They were right, you're far too sharp for your own good.” You chuckle before simply grinning at him.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He asks, genuinely confused.
“I didn't expect you to actually name a fish that exists in Amphoreus.” For a second, he imagines Trailblazer patting his shoulder for the congratulations that are in order for this feat before you unfortunately continue. “Well, existed. They disappeared the moment Styxia fell. The ones that were found were dead, floating on the surface of the contaminated waters.”
And his hopes come crashing down all at the same time. All he can muster is a resounding, “Oh.”
After looking around you to ensure there are no onlookers (or so he assumes), you lean closer, asking him with keen interest while visibly assessing him. “Are you one of the two that descended from the sky beyond Aquila?”
Suddenly, his mind is filled with chaotic memories that consist of an unfamiliar pain around his heart and the butterflies of death fluttering their wings in his peripheral vision. His immediate response is to deny the question, wishing to protect both himself but mostly his friend.
“Don't worry, I heard everything from another Chrysos Heir. I'll keep this between us.” You lean back to your original position. “Have you received a tour of the market yet?”
Before he even has the time to dwell on the word ‘another’, you've thrown another question on him and he's on the brink of feeling overwhelmed. At least he's more than used to March 17th Trailblazer's antics by now and they don't require more energy anymore.
He looks away for a second. March... he sincerely wishes she's alright by now and recovering safely.
And suddenly you're in his vision again, flashing a smile that's not been discouraged by the passage of years. It's beginning to remind him of his awfully optimistic companions.
He considers your invitation for a moment. Whilst he's not particularly eager to fill his alone time with such a colourful presence, he considers that knowing more information about this world that is practically unknown to the Data Bank can only work in his favor. After this mission is over, he'll add every single detail in an organized fashion.
“I've only briefly acquainted myself with it. I suppose it would help if I had a local accompanying me this time.”
The second time visiting doesn't prove to be much more fruitful than the first one however Dan Heng finds being introduced to the locals useful for the future.
At some point you excitedly tug at his sleeve, encouraging him to follow your gaze. His eyes land on a shop that sells fruit and is somewhat confused at your eagerness to drag him there.
You buy him a few of the products, encouraging him to taste what Amphoreus has to offer as you chose to phrase it. He caves in when you insist gently despite knowing his taste is made for the simplest of things.
“Everyone seems to know you,” he observes, glancing between the plethora of people greeting you as you wave back at them.
“Of course, the Chrysos Heirs are pretty well connected with everyone around the market. After all, a lot of us are from here. You'd be surprised by how many actually are from Okhema!”
Oh, you're a Chrysos Heir. In hindsight, all the signs were there. He supposes the countless sleepless nights have begun to take a toll on his usually perceptive nature. He's not aware of how to properly phrase his next sentence. “Which titan... is yours?” Which titan are you supposed to kill? What titan are you connected to?
You snort, offering him a rather humourless smile. “None. Some of us just bleed gold yet no prophecy wishes to welcome us.” Upon noticing his intense gaze on you, you must have felt conscious and immediately continue. “It is what it is, I suppose. In our case, it's mostly a title that sows discord, anyway, so truthfully I don't really care about it.”
Despite what you state with a tone that nears calmness, he cannot help questioning the sincerity behind your words. In a world that's ruled by epics and tales born from heroes' blood, he imagines that it's the highest honour to help your people by gaining the divine authority of a Titan.
And for a child to discover they bleed the same colour as their most heroic ancestors only for it to be stripped away right beneath their two feet, it must be an exceptionally hard reality to cope with.
It's as if managing the feat of flying and finally nearing the clouds that seemed unreachable for so long ago without possessing the knowledge of their essence. Thus when you reach over to touch them, your hand goes through them and with the wind pulling the gas away from your grasp, your dreams fly follow close behind.
Dan Heng internally sighs and realises he has perhaps spent a lot of time listening to the newest Astral Express member's philosophical musings.
❀
The next time he comes across you, you invite him to your house, an act he's learned is quite common in Okhema and has even been given a name, Xenia. He deems it as the most wise choice to make stable allies after being completely isolated from the crew so he accepts even without the presence of the Trailblazer.
He marvels at the indoor decorations; quite unlike anything he's used to. The mirror whose legs were a carved presentation of the Titan Mnestia. When his eyes came across the sole cline whose duplicates he also found in the room he and Trailblazer are staying at, he asked its purpose; learning it's a multipurpose comfort furniture starting from sitting during a feast to sleeping and napping. Then, he noticed the chests with intricate designs on top that are used for storing linen and clothes (he remembers how you entirely skipped opening one of them. He supposes it probably contains undergarments).
“Aren't you a bit too welcoming towards someone that is practically a stranger to you?” He wonders aloud, phrasing his skepticism after you showed him practically everything your house has to offer.
“What do you mean? If someone were to knock at my door, I'd welcome them inside with open arms.” You shrug. “It's how we're raised. You have to help a stranger in need, right?”
“And what will you do if they are revealed to be a thief?” He argues. “Someone who was conspiring to steal the invaluable items inside your home?”
“In that case, the wrath of Talanton shall strike the perpetrators down,” you reply immediately, reminding Dan Heng how normalised the presence of Titans is in everyday citizens' affairs. He tries to relate it to how Aeons operate.
He supposes a lot of Aeons have the ability to set rules that mortals must adhere to—
“Want anything to drink?” You ask, waiting patiently in front of the table.
Dan Heng considers the question before answering with one of his own, “I heard some people mentioning ambrosia?”
You offer the same amused smile that you always do before walking to the kitchen; an expression that slightly makes him nervous for reasons he's not fully certain of yet. You return while carrying carefully what he's learnt is called an oinochoe judging by the shape and colour.
Chuckling, you place down an empty cup before pouring a deep red liquid into it. “Foreigner, ambrosia is the drink of the Gods. We mere mortals do not hold such luxuries. This is wine made from harvested grapes.”
He gathers that you're merely teasing him considering someone has already tried selling him Ambrosia in the past and it was non-alcoholic.
“Wine...” He muses for a second. “The Express has strict rules regarding alcohol.”
“Ah. Then should I bring pomegranate juice?”
“My tastes in foods and drinks usually don't align with those of the Crew but I always try new things for research. I'm afraid this time, I can't do the same.” He sighs, trying the pomegranate juice. It's sweet and somewhat bitter. “I remember the first time I tried it my heart was beating erratically and my face was burning after just a few minutes of the first two sips.”
“You sound... allergic to alcohol!?” You voice that question with an extremely exasperated tone, almost as if that's the most impossible fact in the whole of Amphoreus.
Dan Heng thinks that maybe for a culture that has alcohol so integrated in its ceremonies and even everyday life, the possibility of someone not being able to tolerate it can cause shock.
“Rest assured, it has never hindered my entertainment,” he comforts you, though he's sure you can detect the teasing tone in his voice judging by your huff.
“I suppose we have different means of entertainment.” You snort.
“Are you perhaps from Castrum Kremnos?” He asks upon recalling you mentioning pomegranate juice. “Every Kremoan we've come across drinks exclusively that. Almost as if they take pride in that.”
“No, I'm from a small village near Okhema.”
“Oh.” He lets out upon realising what the location meant for the current fate of your home. Phainon has mentioned that the last human defense still standing against the Black Tide is the Holy City and despite the vague proximity, you living in Okhema can only point to one thing.
You look away, your fingers mindlessly toying with the petals of the flower in the vase decorating your sitting area. He notices the floral themed motifs on the surface of said vase. “My people used to worship Georios if you're curious. He's the titan of Earth.”
He immediately perks up in curiosity; no one has ever mentioned him before.
“Are there any surviving documents from your hometown?”
“Possibly.” You nod. “Though, I'm not entirely sure. Everyone left in a hurry so probably most if not all scrolls remain abandoned in the buildings. Of course, they could have all been destroyed by the Black Tide.”
“Is it possible to recover them?” He asks. “I would like to read them.”
You quirk your head in confusion. “Sure? I doubt they'll be of any use to your situation though. They're probably just rituals,” you quickly reply before thinking for a moment more. “I guess you can find documents that contain knowledge about agriculture but you have higher chances of finding a dedicated and more specialized research of such topics at the Grove.”
“Wouldn't your documents contain important information regarding the Earth Titan?”
“Uhm, not exactly—” You cut yourself off before sighing. “You know what, I'll schedule it. Meet me tomorrow at Entry Hour. I'll bring you to them.”
❀
Dan Heng realises perhaps a bit too late that he's uncertain of what Entry Hour entails considering most planets have a certain rotation between day and night rather than either being eternal based on location. A fact that begs the question; how do you know when it's the meeting time?
He's almost sure that his eyes never landed on a traditional or digital clock anywhere in Okhema.
To counter such issues, he settles for merely basing his own internal clock on the human activity around him. When he first begins hearing voices outside his shared room, he figures that the Amphoreus equivalent of midnight is over, giving way for the early dawn.
He reaches the meeting point quite quickly, feeling no surprise that you're standing there idly. “Good morning— Ah, good Entry Hour?”
You chuckle and smile casually, “Whatever you see fit, I really don't mind. Good morning to you, too, Dannie.”
While walking towards the abandoned village, you notify him that you've prepared water in case you need to get hydrated while traveling as well as bandages for any potential injury.
Time passes faster than he anticipated with you sharing tiny details about your home that he attempts to memorize.
He halts in his steps at the view, considering whether he should capture it with March 7th's photo camera. After a brief moment, he takes it out and tries to adjust it according to the dimensions of the wheat field.
He soon feels your hands enclose his on the lense. Before he can even comprehend it, his whole inner system goes haywire at the sudden contact and he almost grows frustrated at how quickly he loses his irrationality. You turn your hold on it to zoom slightly more, your gaze solely focusing on the preview.
“I think it looks cuter like this,” is all you eventually voice, letting go of the camera and flashing him a smile. You somehow make every interaction between you seem so simple while he feels like he's drowning in something he's still somewhat unsure the origin of. He supposed his introverted nature is to blame.
“Thank you,” Dan Heng says in return.
“Would you want me to take a picture of you?” You ask. “I'm sure your friend would want to see the group in the pictures, too, right?”
Perhaps, you're right. However, he's not exactly sure how to pose in front of you so he's leaning on rejecting the offer altogether. But once you insist with that smile, he knows he's instantly a defeated man.
He stands still in front of the camera, adopting his default expression. You deadpan at him in response. “You're stiffer than Lady Aglaea when she's ordering us around, Dannie. Relaaax.”
Your giggle is short-lived and cut off by a gentle gasp, causing him to flash a concerned expression at you.
“Well, a certain golden thread did not find me funny.” You rub your back, glancing behind you while mumbling, “Why are they even outside of Okhema? Is it because I'm with the foreigner? Lady Aglaea is such a control-freak... Ow-ow-ow! I'm sorry, stop zapping me already!”
He can't help chuckling lightly at the sight. Your surprised look meets him next before your expression immediately morphs into a wide grin.
During the aimless walk, he manages to snap more pictures with your help; already noticing the last few turned out uncharacteristically artistic compared to the previous one he and Trailblazer took.
The houses in the village as expected are half destroyed and finding anything of value inside seems almost like a miracle. You look lost in most of them, aimlessly looking for a library of sorts to no avail. He notices your behavior change in only one building where you make a straight line for the bedrooms and he's forced to simply follow behind.
“That's a rather big library,” Dan Heng points out, his eyes scanning the scrolls carefully placed on the selves; showing no sign of disturbance aside from maybe the rough edges from the passage of time. “Did this use to be your home?”
“Yes, this was my library.” You gesture to everything with a solemn expression. Walking towards it, you pick up a scroll and begin reading between the titles for anything of importance. You chuckle humourlessly. “They're mostly epics dedicated to the titan of Earth and some of his feats I suppose. You can have them if you want. They're not going to be of any use to me.”
“Did you like reading them when you were younger?”
“Don't all kids enjoy reading heroic tales?” You evade the question and before you can put away the scroll, he extends his hand and catches yours. With an expression of surprise, you turn to look back at him while he carefully takes visual note of the written text. “What is it?”
“There are a few words scrambled on the side. They seem to have an alternative handwriting compared to the original text. What do they say?”
“Nothing important really—” You raise a hand between the scroll you're still holding and his chest, almost as if trying to distance him.
He attempts to read the text with his limited knowledge of the Amphorian written language.
“Cool?” He muses aloud. If he's not mistaken, most of the words are used for praise. After comparing the handwriting of the original scroll and the additions that were added later whose writing appeared juvenile, it's rather obvious what happened.
When he glances to look at your expression, he freezes at the seemingly sudden proximity. He was so engrossed in finding out the momentary mystery that he hadn't realised you were standing extremely close to each other. His grip on your hand vanishes, no longer supporting it uptight while he reads and you consequently drop it from inattentiveness.
Both of your attentions are brought onto the scroll rolling between your feet and accidentally bump heads while you reach downwards to grab it. He ultimately takes it first and places it in its rightful place without any more desire to look into it.
He remembers stumbling upon a magazine March 7th was browsing and it had the same excited scribblings on the side at her favorite parts. It has to be the same case.
“Was that your writing?” He asks gently while watching you return to browsing the scrolls on the shelves.
“As a kid,” you reply, handing him over the documents you deem informative enough.
“Did you use to admire the Earth Titan?”
You shrug absent-mindedly, or at least appear to do so. “The coreflame of Earth had already been claimed aeons ago and by the time I was born; not only was I unable to become a Demigod to protect my people but Terravox had already long abandoned humanity. We were merely sitting ducks in the middle of a lake that the Black Tide was constantly contaminating. Until, of course, the “toxins” shackled our ankles and pulled us down with them towards the bottom of the dead waters.”
In the middle of the wheat field you're currently walking on on trip back, you stop suddenly and point towards the earth. “Want to take a small break here?”
He stands confused, wondering what thought process is littering your brain. “If this is outside the protection of the Holy City, is it not dangerous to lounge where we can be attacked by the Black Tide?”
“Lady Aglaea has our backs. Besides, I'm sure a foreigner from the sky can defend his own head in a fight, can't he?” You shrug casually before you take a seat. He figures you're teasing.
“That doesn't mean we should be reckless —” Dan Heng pauses in the middle of his sentence and stares back at the village, no doubt raising your concern. However, his senses of danger are tingling so he figures he can either clue you in later if he's wrong or prioritize protecting you if he's right.
He summons his spear at his side and watches you also stand up from the ground in a hurry in his peripheral vision.
“Is there someone there?” You ask in a hushed voice, reaching over to hold your luggage tightly while your other hand reaches to the wheat around you and snaps a few off.
“Something would be perhaps more accurate.”
His hand acts before his mind can think it through and slashes the first instance of attack right in front of your face, its impact causing you to step back. He sees you gasp and look at the direction the Black Tide emerged from.
He focuses on the enemy and runs towards them, his weapon making contact with theirs. Thankfully, it's not the first time he encounters them (and he supposes it will not be the last), therefore there are no unpleasant surprises that can catch him off guard.
He's conscious of evading the arrows directed at his head while aiming for the monsters who attack him head on. His mind is occupied with calculating his actions and protecting both himself and you. And while his adrenaline runs high, he manages to somehow keep up with the crowd he's severely outnumbered by. However, he realises soon enough that he's not making notable progress.
“Stay back!” He hears your yell and his body automatically listens to it and backs away from the monsters. He realises he wholeheartedly trusts your judgement even if he himself doesn't understand the reason for your order.
What Dan Heng absolutely doesn't expect is the minor explosion that follows after and knocks a few anomalies of the Black Tide back. He immediately glances at you, finding you holding in one hand flint and dry wheat and in the other done type of dust.
He shakes his head in an attempt to will away the thoughts regarding you before marching forward and dealing the final blows to the weakened monsters.
His spear slices through whatever remains of the souls transformed by the corruption and each of them falls onto the ground; left to rot and connect with the earth that gave birth to them once again.
Once they're defeated, his mind immediately returns to you.
He approaches you quickly, watching you hide your arm behind your back. Normally, he would have not pushed to learn what caused the sudden secrecy; trusting his own judgement more than words coming out of someone's mouth. However he's immediately concerned and cannot let the thought go regardless of how much he tries.
He gently reaches to grab your arm even when you weakly protest and brings it in front of him. It's the one holding the flint and the few dry wheat that remain after your attack. Those items themselves do not arouse suspicion which is why he moves to remove them. That's when he gets your most expressive face and he knows he's close to the secret.
Beneath it all lie a relative long cut but he deems it's not deep enough to warrant stitches. Still, his emotions manage to somehow persist and he's extremely worried over something so arguably small.
“You shouldn't hold the flint on your own wound,” he manages to calmly say despite his inner feelings. “It can cause an infection. We should treat it.”
“Let's just return to Okhema, then.” You breathe out, trying to hide your embarrassment.
Dan Heng agrees without any hesitation. He even persists when you tell him you can take care of the cut yourself and follows you inside your home.
You first walk into the washroom and carry with your other hand a bucket of water. He immediately lifts it off your arm without any loud protests from you and gently pours it over your palm as a first means of cleaning the area.
“Just water isn't sufficient in sanitizing it.”
“I'm not wasting wine or vinegar on my open wound,” you announce and he shakes his head in what he tries to portrait as scolding turns to endearment. You sigh before saying, “There is a jar of honey in the storage room next to the kitchen.”
“Honey?” He wonders before asking, “Is that your means of an Antiseptic?”
When you nod and he immediately leaves to grab the jar in order to treat you. During his walk from the kitchen to the storage room, he notices a lot of kernels of wheat next to what he assumes is the remains of powder you used earlier on the table.
“You just apply it on the problem area before bandaging it,” you tell him once he returns. He follows your instructions carefully, mindful of any changes in your expression while he applies the honey. While he does see you cringe when he accidently touches your open wound instead, you seem conscious enough to not jump from the sudden pain.
At last he sits on the floor next to you and wraps the linen bandage around your palm with utmost precision to be neither too tight nor too loose.
“Thank you,” you say while inspecting your hand. “For back at the village, too. I wasn't careful enough and we got targeted. I don't think I would have survived if you weren't there”
“It's nothing to thank me for. I assume you wouldn't have gone back to your village if I wasn't so persistent, anyway.” He recalls your shared time at the village. “Did you hurt your hand with the flint?”
You nod. “When I tried to set the wheat on fire to be precise.”
You still seem a bit distant while talking still. He figures he should offer some ounce of comfort. “It was a good plan. I should thank you, too.”
“It was nothing, you were the one who fought the Black Tide head on. I tried to protect you and ended up hurting myself. That's so embarrassing...”
He reaches over and gently pushes your head away, offering you a smile. “You managed to weaken them enough for me to strike back while they were recovering. I wouldn't call that nothing. We fought together, partner.”
He watches your eyes widen as you turn to stare at him. He raises his fist towards you and nods, encouraging yours to make contact with it.
You smile back at him. “I hope there will be no more fights we need to fight.”
“I'll make sure of it.”
Once he returns to his shared room, he collapses onto the cline.
When both he and his companion wake up, he discusses with Trailblazer regarding their next step of action. Upon realising that only two coreflames remain until the Flame Chase Journey ends and the last ones would probably be claimed in succession, they both figure their time on Amphoreus is limited.
Dan Heng's first thought is not to prepare for the final battle(s) but to visit you.
When he shares that information with you, he watches your expression freeze. But he doesn't have enough time to process it before you're smiling at him again. “I see. In that case, I should probably give you now what I bought.”
You bring him to stand in front of a mirror and remain behind him as you hold his arms gently to keep him in place. “Close your eyes!”
He immediately obliges, only relying on his sense of hearing to recognize your eager steps running into a different room before quickly returning. He senses your presence behind him again before feeling a small gust of wind reach him as you wave a material in front of him with your arms over his shoulders.
“You can open your eyes now, Dannie.” Once he does, he sees the fabric you're excitedly holding in front of his body in the mirror. “This is called a chiton.”
His gaze is locked on his reflection, imagining himself in the cloth and almost shivering at the thought. The partly naked chest, the hem reaching just above his knee. He can't help asking, “Isn't this a bit too... exposed?”
“Hm?” You manage to peek over his form, raising an eyebrow. “But it's not cold during this season?”
“It's not a matter of coldness. Don't you... ever feel conscious?” He moves to stand in front of you but now his body faces yours.
“Conscious? Of course not. Why would I ever feel conscious about my body? It's a work of art created from the titans themselves,” you explain with a light tone. “Do you feel conscious?”
“Uhm.” He's momentarily lost for words.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Dan Heng,” You reach over and cup his chin, holding his gaze as you say, “Even Mnestia herself would fall in love with you.”
Despite his usual ability to control his expression, he feels powerless in how his mouth falls agape and his eyes widen. A certain feeling of being burnt spreads through his body and suddenly he's melting.
“I bought it for you so you should keep it...” You pull away and play with a piece of your outfit as your other hand holds the chiton. “Even if you don't really like it. It can be a memory from Amphoreus when... you know, you and your companion leave. I'm sorry for assuming you'd be comfortable with it. I'll look for something other than clothing next time.”
Dan Heng takes it gently from your hands and offers you a small smile. “Don't worry. I'll treasure it.”
“...and don't forget to visit from time to time,” you add suddenly with a bit of a hesitant tone, perhaps unsure of how he will respond.
“I'm certain that the express will visit Amphoreus again in the near future to document its progress.” He hopes it sounds reassuring enough; however as the ball of yarn that is Amphoreus' nature begins to get untangled, he's unsure of whether he can even promise a return.
When he eventually leaves your home, a heavy feeling resides in his heart as he clutches onto the piece of clothing you've gifted him.
“Dan Heng!” Your yell causes him to halt in his steps, turning around with mild concern. He sees you running towards him, holding something close to your chest before stopping in front of him. “Here—” You take a breath. “Take this.”
He glances at the soft fabric and deducts it's most likely wool. However it looks far less processed than the clothes he's used to.
“It's called a himation,” you explain. “It's used over the chiton for more warmth. I was thinking that it can also be used so you feel less... exposed, I suppose.”
He almost sighs at your stubbornness to find something that would be satisfying for him but he can't help feeling flattered.
“It's kind of heavy so it's best if you wear it instead of carrying it. I don't want your hands getting tired before, you know...” You clutch onto the fabric, your expression betraying a slight nervousness. “Can I put it on you, please? It won't match your clothes that well but...”
“Don't worry, I don't mind.”
You smile at him and reach over to drape the material over his shoulders, remaining a bit in his proximity while you look at his face. Dan Heng can't help staring back at your eyes almost as if afraid of the possibility of never seeing them again. He realises that it definitely has proven to be a fear he developed in his trip.
During his time as a Nameless, he's always followed the rule of Exploring, Establishing and Connecting with the World. He's seen a plethora of planets and has met countless souls in his travels even before joining the Express. However his reason seems lost when he attempts to understand the different connection he's felt with you.
His breath almost hitches when you finally finish wrapping the himation around him, yet remain close. You both stand awkwardly in the middle of the deserted street that resembles the atmosphere of a night without the darkness that usually accompanies it.
You finally let go and take a hesitant step back before offering him a small smile. “You should probably head back. I didn't intend to hold you for so long, my bad.”
You're frowning, unable to hide the expression.
His eyebrow furrow in response, unusual for his trained neutral face.
“Safe travels, Dan Heng.” A forced smile appears on your lips. “See you tomorrow.”
❀
Before you truly have the chance to see Dan Heng once last time, the whole sky seems to collapse before your two eyes. Crimson envelops the clouds that once belonged to a bright future as the once hopeful citizens scramble to evade the black tides' attacks.
For a moment you're left speechless. The heroic blood rushing through your veins does nothing to soothe your morale nor help keep your mind rational. A few reoccurring, desperate thoughts urge you to run but your legs are promptly planted on the ground. Bubbles alongside rainbows manage to momentarily save you from an attack on your back but you're unsure of whether you're even supposed to be grateful for that.
A grand, heroic finale is not necessarily every person's wish. Some could settle with just a quick enough death to evade the pain that comes with the aftermath of their survival.
After all, you were never supposed to be part of the Epics, were you?
The room is far too quiet, the flowers once blooming happily beside the bed had begun to wither from lack of hydration and sunlight. The woman whose sickly form has been steadily decaying alongside the vase next to her is perhaps on what must be her final moments. The doctor helplessly brews medication that only will alleviate his own guilt for failing to aid a dying patient and potentially failing to save the fetus who's still developing.
However in the next few hours, only a miracle awaits. The doctor first notices the flower's petals twitching into life; a feat he imagines defies plenty of rules of nature. His eyes then glance at the woman only to find her gaze meeting his. Her arms have been encircled with soft branches, keeping them steady as the other process starts.
The words upon your (millionth but now final) birth are echoed through the room.
“This child must be blessed by the earth itself.” You're raised up in the air, your cries following soon after.
The child that can cause the flowers to bloom under their fingertips, the harvests to survive a plethora of thunderstorms, and communicate with the dirt and turn the earth itself fertile. The child is able to fight the decaying nature in the months the Earth's daughter is not on the surface.
The now mature person who still bathes in the Earth Titan's blessings; the flower crown you were gifted by the village still shines on top of your head in the sunlight without any sign of withering away with the passage of time.
And as you sit down on the endless field, you close your eyes and allow your senses to be flooded by the light breeze. A gentle wind caresses your face and warmth embraces your body.
For a moment you almost think that it's because the Titan of Earth himself has gazed upon you.
