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AHATOPIA HEADLINES: THE APOCALYPTIC CLIMAX TO THE PHANTASMOON GAMES, WISHPOWER RECORD SMASHES THROUGH THE CEILING!
Newsflash Alert! Arcadia Bids Farewell to the Astral Express. Next Stop: The Second Penaconian Holy Grail War. Exclusive Interview to Follow!
※ Exclusive content available to Subscribers Only.
[BREAKING NEWS] Wishpower Anomalies Surge in the Wake of the Phantasmoon Games Knockout Round. Citizens Advised to Keep Informed via Arcadia Weather Service Announcements…
In a guest room of the Inkford Hermitage Hotel, a phone buzzes mutedly across the bedside cabinet. The screen face glows gently against the wood surface, the only source of light in the inky dark of the room. With the phone number registered to a non-Imagenae, the emergency alert tone does not blare, allowing the figure tucked under thick, fluffy covers to sleep undisturbed.
It’s something else that disrupts Dan Heng’s rest, deeply immersed in dream-memories that have recurred with new intensity on meeting Blade again. “Yingxing,” he mumbles into the pillow, his brow furrowing.
A glass lies forgotten on the table, the water within swirling and rising with azure light. The near spill is averted when memories of the dragon in battle transition into the aftermath of victory, the disturbance settled by the warmth of companionship.
[2 Unread Messages from Arcadia Emergency Alerts]
[11:13 PM] Arcadia Weather Service: ABERRANT WISHPOWER SURGE WARNING in effect for Inkford Hermitage. Danger of life-threatening Wishpower levels for Imagenae. Take shelter in a sturdy building, away from windows, and review evacuation routes. Caution advised for organic species.
[11:46 PM] Arcadia Weather Service: ABERRANT WISHPOWER SURGE Update for Inkford Hermitage. An Aberrant Wishpower Surge is threatening your area. An Evacuation Warning is in effect for Imagenae. Be ready to leave immediately. Organic species are advised to Shelter-in-Place.
As if oblivious to the energy storm blowing tempestuously through the boundary between the World in Canvas and reality, the Phantasmoon winks playfully down upon the wintery night scene. Gentle powdery white drifts softly down to layer upon the cloud-like carpet of snow that surrounds the last sanctuary, melting into the tranquil river that flows on by to the distant shore.
[05:13 PM] Arcadia Weather Service: The Evacuation Warning for Inkford Hermitage is CANCELLED effective immediately. Law Enforcement officials have determined the immediate threat has passed. Source of surge under investigation. Continue monitoring local media for updates.
**
Bundled in warmth, Dan Heng is slow to wake, the icy chill of morning making him want to huddle deeper into downy blankets.
The first hint that there is something wrong is the refreshing, nostalgic scent that reaches his nose, like the lunarescent waters of his homeland. The second is the firm warmth he is lying upon and the thick, heavy band draped over his waist.
Dan Heng squints his eyes open in bleary confusion to the same hotel room he went to sleep in last night. It takes a moment for his groggy brain to register that the anomaly is too close to see because he is hugging it.
Vermillion-lined eyes gaze down at him calmly from a familiar face.
“Dan Feng?” Dan Heng says blankly, wondering if he is still dreaming. He instinctively tries to move away but meets unexpected resistance from the arm firmly over his shoulders, the appendage coiled over his hips tightening in response. In disbelief, he reaches down and touches smooth, cool scales—a dragon’s tail that is as solid as the chest beneath his face.
“Dan Heng,” Dan Feng greets him in response.
Dan Heng scrubs his eyes, but when he opens them again, Dan Feng is still there, wearing his usual white, embroidered robes, cerulean horns on the crown of his head and raven hair spread over the pillow, streaked through with the color of the sea. “Let go,” Dan Heng insists. With reluctance, the tail loosens, allowing him to pull away, sitting up. The blankets fall away, the chill of the morning air bringing some clarity to his mind. “How are you here?”
Dan Feng holds out his hand and Dan Heng’s phone floats over to his palm in a swirl of blue. Sharp claws slide over the surface, giving Dan Heng a momentary alarm, but there are no scratches on the screen when Dan Feng tosses the unlocked phone to him.
Dan Heng scrolls through the missed emergency alerts, his frown deepening. The phenomenon itself isn’t surprising. Arcadia has been experiencing wild fluctuations in Wishpower after an outrageous conclusion to the Phantasmoon Games that had even satisfied the unpredictable and frankly insane Aha. It’s the reason the Department of Aberration Defense has been overrun with work, barely able to keep up with the aberrant disasters popping up everywhere.
A surge of Wishpower in the energy rich environment of Inkford Hermitage, the boundary of the World in Canvas, provides prime conditions for the spontaneous creation of one such aberrant.
“You’re an imagenae.”
“Mm.”
“That doesn’t explain why you are here.”
“Come now, Dan Heng.” Dan Feng gives him a disapproving look. “Surely you have already drawn the logical conclusion.” Rising languidly, he reclines against the headboard, running his claws through his hair.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dan Heng’s expression is dour because he knows exactly what Dan Feng is talking about. The details have become indistinct on waking, but he had vivid dreams of the past last night. Such reveries have been frequent of late, precipitated by his unwitting partnership with Blade in the final act and the subsequent life-threatening situations they weathered together. Dan Heng had sustained some of the worst injuries in that last fight, the reason he reluctantly remained behind at Inkford Hermitage to recuperate. Once he has recovered sufficiently, he will rejoin the Astral Express in Penacony through IPC transport.
Regardless, the conclusion is that this Dan-Feng-shaped imagenae was conceived from Dan Heng’s memories, the manifestation into reality fueled by the oversaturation of Wishpower.
Dan Feng’s presence alone is a serious problem.
“Human imagenae are illegal.” Extremely illegal.
“I am a Vidyadhara.” Seeming bored of the conversation, Dan Feng climbs out of the bed to poke around. Not finding much of interest in the standard hotel room, he inspects the Himekat plush on the desk. As the sole Astral Express member to remain behind in Arcadia, Dan Heng had promised March he would purchase the sold out plush as soon as it restocked.
“Humanoid imagenae,” Dan Heng amends. “According to the law, you should be reported to the Department of Aberration Defense.”
“You would have me put down?” Dan Feng asks casually, effectively silencing Dan Heng.
He isn’t sure what Dan Fe—this imagenae’s fate would be, but he knows the existence of human-type imagenae is forbidden.
Dan Feng chuckles softly. “I won’t be here long, Dan Heng. No need to trouble yourself with the officers.” He sets Himekat back down on the desk with an absent pat to her fuzzy red ears. “By the time you are ready to depart to reunite with your Nameless, I will have already returned to memory.”
Dan Heng considers him doubtfully. Dan Feng does not seem to lack in Wishpower if that blatant display of Cloudhymn when retrieving Dan Heng’s phone is anything to go by. At the same time, Dan Heng doesn’t think Dan Feng would lie to him about this.
Probably.
“You’ll have to stay out of sight.”
The answer is immediate: “Denied.”
Dan Heng had hoped for cooperation but, truthfully, this was the answer he expected. Dan Feng never left the Luofu and had often spoken wistfully of travelling. “Dan Feng—" he starts, trying to think of how to persuade the other.
“Hush. Let me think.” Dan Feng taps his lips. “Hmm.”
The air shimmers, Dan Feng’s figure distorting, and then Dan Heng is looking at a miniature version of the Azure Dragon, maybe three-quarters the length of his arm.
…That’s possible? How did Dan Feng do that?
The small dragon inspects its appearance in the mirror over the desk, turning this way and that. The tail flicks, Dan Feng seeming very satisfied with himself.
“There,” Dan Feng says smugly. “Problem solved.”
**
Breakfast is at the hotel restaurant, a buffet style affair included with the standard room reservation, though it’s closer to brunch at the late hour Dan Heng arrives—the fault of the extra body in his bed this morning. By the end of the meal, he has come to the glum conclusion that the imagenae is Dan Feng in the flesh.
Only he could be this annoying.
Riding on Dan Heng’s shoulders, the small dragon had been bossy, insisting he pick up every dish that caught his interest. If Dan Heng was too slow for Dan Feng’s liking, he would get pricked with sharp little claws or thumped by the tail.
The size of Dan Feng’s stomach didn’t match the greed of his eyes, so Dan Heng was left with an excess of leftovers. Typical.
Stuffed overfull, Dan Heng goes outside to walk it off.
On being met with the bracing cold, Dan Feng tucks himself under the collar of Dan Heng’s long coat, curling around his neck like a scarf. Despite his initial leeriness of the cold, he is curious about everything, periodically flying out to examine this or that. The snow, in particular, seems to fascinate him, romping through the powdery white banks, even engaging in a snowball fight with the former snow giant Casper—thoroughly undignified.
Dan Heng doesn’t care about that, but he thought Dan Feng would, as fixated as he always was about appearances.
But that was when Dan Feng had the eyes of all of Luofu on him.
Here, there is only Dan Heng.
The result of rolling through the snow for a cold-blooded reptile is entirely predictable.
“I told you not to stay in the snow too long,” Dan Heng scolds the freezing dragon icing his neck. It’s as uncomfortable as it sounds; his blood is no warmer than Dan Feng’s.
“Stop dawdling and bring me to the springs.” The imperious demand is interrupted by a tiny sneeze.
Dan Heng sighs. He needs to take his morning bath in the healing springs anyways.
Preferring a particular bath, he goes to the changing room in the west wing. Folding his clothes neatly into the basket, he wraps a towel around his waist and goes out. The dragon huddles miserably against him, wracked with shivers.
Dan Heng doesn’t head for the main bath, instead taking the small path that circles the side of the building. The hot springs it leads to is smaller but secluded, half hidden by foliage.
There are less people out and about today, few on the streets and none in the changing room, probably due to the Wishpower surge. It would be nice if he had the springs all to himself…
Dan Heng’s hopes are dashed on turning the corner.
The absolute last person he wants to see when he has illegal-imagenae-Dan Feng hanging over his shoulders is submerged in the bath, his elbows propped on the edge and piercing red-gold eyes looking directly at them.
Why is Blade here?? Didn’t the Stellaron Hunters already leave?
In contrast to Dan Heng’s panic, a certain other person is excited, tail swishing over Dan Heng’s chest.
Blade stares, his gaze fixed on the miniature Azure Dragon who is, unfortunately, very recognizable, characteristic red underlining its eyes.
“This is, um,” Dan Heng fumbles for an explanation. “It’s a—an imagenae that stuck to me.”
Dan Feng peers at Blade from his perch, but thankfully keeps his mouth shut, remembering his promise to Dan Heng.
Blade’s eyes move briefly to Dan Heng, then back to the dragon for a long unblinking moment. Then, with a distinct feeling of ‘I don’t want to know’, he closes his eyes, shutting out the sight of the two of them.
Dan Heng hesitates. Is it more or less suspicious if he turns around and goes to the main bath?
Dan Feng makes the decision for him. The small body flinches with a powerful sneeze. Embarrassed, the dragon hurriedly flies over to submerge himself in the steaming pool.
Resigned, Dan Heng goes to join him, taking up a spot on the opposite side, farthest from Blade.
After swimming through the hot springs, Dan Feng’s condition is much improved, coming to laze at Dan Heng’s side, and the two settle in for a long soak.
**
Dan Heng is glad that Dan Feng restrained himself from going over to badger Blade, but the small dragon keeps sneaking appreciative peeks at the other man, whose muscled torso is partly visible above the water line. He pinches the dragon’s fuzzy tail in warning. Stop being so obvious. Blade might not be reacting to it, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t noticed it.
Or, actually, just stop being a pervert.
Dan Heng gets a lazy smack from the dragon’s tail in response.
Deciding not to care about the other person anymore, Dan Heng sinks further into the water, gazing up at the eternal night.
After completing the healer’s recommended length of immersion for the morning, Dan Heng rises to go.
Dan Feng is not so enthused. Whether he doesn’t want to leave the cozy heat or doesn’t want to leave Blade, Dan Heng neither knows nor cares, since Dan Feng still cooperatively drapes himself back over Dan Heng’s shoulders. Exposed to the cold again, Dan Feng shivers.
Having just climbed out of the springs, Dan Heng stops, focusing his Cloudhymn to evaporate the dripping water from Dan Feng and himself in a puff of steam.
Concentrated on the task, he fails to notice Blade’s approach until the man is in front of him.
“Blade?” Dan Heng takes a wary step back.
“Dan Heng—” Blade starts, as if he is about to say something. His menacing gaze is on Dan Heng, a distraction, because he strikes for a different target, a lightning-fast grab that snatches the dragon from Dan Heng’s shoulders.
Caught in Blade’s fist like a snake, Dan Feng thrashes, incensed. “Yingxing! What do you think you’re doing?!” The miniature dragon roars. “Unhand me this instant!”
Well. ‘Roars’. The sound produced by the tiny body is perhaps not quite as majestic as Dan Feng intended…
Blade looks at Dan Heng, his brows raised.
Groaning, Dan Heng holds his forehead. So much for keeping it a secret.
“What are you doing just standing there?” Dan Feng hisses at Dan Heng. “Get this oaf off me!”
Slowly, Dan Heng lowers his hand. He crosses his arms, unimpressed. “I don’t answer to you.”
“You—You—Unfilial descendent!”
Dan Heng blinks.
“You look like a worm, wriggling like this,” Blade drawls, his mouth curved into a wicked smirk. “It suits you… Yinyue-jun.”
Chomp!
Red rivulets stream down Blade’s closed fist from the dragon’s sharp fangs.
Blade, naturally, is unfazed, his pain tolerance threshold abnormally high.
Despite Dan Feng being the one to dole out violence, Dan Heng feels a twinge of guilt. It’s a bit like ganging up on a small animal.
However, currently a small critter or not, the person is Yinyue-jun Dan Feng.
To Dan Heng’s shock, a towering wave rises from the steaming spring waters. Just how much Wishpower does Dan Feng have?
Blade regards the watery doom with interest, as if it has nothing to do with him.
“Dan Feng, don’t—!”
The wave crashes down.
**
With everyone dressed again, the person with 0% culpability for the property damage lowers his head, stoically apologizing to the hotel manager and bath attendant. The party that is 30% guilty sulks under his collar while Mr. 70% stands at the side, watching unhelpfully. Internally fuming, Dan Heng vows to make the culprit foot the bill.
“Is this how you run your hotel?” Blade interrupts their conversation, his tone dripping with contempt.
The two hotel staff and Dan Heng gape at him. What the hell is he talking about?
Blade flicks his fingers in the direction of the springs. “This only happened because my friend here saw a cockroach in your baths.”
Dan Heng: ???
Continuing his filthy lies, Blade leans in, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “It’s a secret, but Yinyue-jun is terrified of bugs, you see.”
Dan Heng: “…”
The incident ends with the hotel manager and bath attendant apologizing profusely. With some additional “encouragement” from Blade and emphasis on their status as Planarcardia’s saviors, they are given a complimentary upgrade to the hotel’s premium luxury suite.
Their new accommodations have, in addition to the requisite bedroom, a dining area with a long black lacquer wood table, a spacious lounge area with comfy couches and coffee table, with sliding glass double doors leading out to the highlight—a private outdoor bath the size of a small pool.
“Now this is more like it,” Dan Feng says, satisfied. With the front door closed behind them, the dragon transforms back into his Vidyadhara form without warning, white sleeves flowing out.
Having just brought in the luggage, Blade freezes in place, his stunned gaze locked on Dan Feng’s face.
Dan Feng looks back at him calmly.
Dan Heng, halfway to the bedroom with duffel bag in hand, finds himself unable to move, caught in the tension.
“Should I change back?” Dan Feng asks directly, not avoiding the subject.
Blade’s hands clench, then gradually release.
Having a strange need to hear Blade’s answer, Dan Heng doesn’t move. Still, the silence drags on for so long that he begins to eye the distance to the bedroom door.
Eventually, Blade gives a stilted, “It’s fine.” With swift, determined strides, he drags the luggage in, taking the duffel bag from Dan Heng as he passes. Without looking at either of them, he goes into the bedroom and closes the door.
Dan Feng’s gaze rests on the closed door, his expression pensive.
“Dan Feng,” Dan Heng says hesitantly.
“Mm.”
“…Should I go for a walk?” It feels like he is intruding on the two of them.
It’s… uncomfortable.
“There’s no need for that. I am the past; you are the present.” Dan Feng smiles, the expression melancholy. “And… I am no longer deserving.”
“Dan Feng…”
“Instead, it is I who should be asking you this question. I will give Blade an answer he can accept, so answer me this: would you prefer to part ways here? You have my word that I will conduct myself as appropriate and will not bring you trouble.”
Dan Heng had not even considered it, but there isn’t really a reason Dan Feng needs to stick with him.
Parting ways, he isn’t sure why but… he doesn’t want that.
Even were that not the case, he wouldn’t deny Dan Feng these few days with Blade, should that be what he wishes for.
“What do you want to do?”
Dan Feng studies him for a long moment, then drifts closer as if drawn in by some force.
It has the sudden sense of ‘Yinyue-jun’ bearing down on him, and Dan Heng stiffens, resisting the urge to summon his spear. Oddly enough, the heavy aura doesn’t seem conscious on Dan Feng’s part. If anything, he seems a little distracted.
“To spend these days with you both would be an unexpected gift.”
There is no need for Dan Feng to include Dan Heng in it, but perhaps his predecessor finds this situation as awkward as he does.
“Then let’s not speak of deserving or undeserving.” Dan Heng has had enough of being shackled by the past. Those sins should not be forgotten, but the punishment has been rendered, and what is done cannot be undone. What they can do, is do better in the present. “It’s just us here, and I am not the one to judge your past. Do as you like.” Abruptly, he goes around Dan Feng, needing a breath of fresh air… unable to take the intensity of that deep-sea gaze.
It’s only when he is outside the glass sliding doors that Dan Heng realizes.
For the first time, Dan Feng called Yingxing ‘Blade’.
**
When Dan Heng goes back in, Dan Feng and Blade are drinking tea, seated across the lacquer wood table as if nothing had occurred.
Seeing Dan Heng come in, Dan Feng pats the spot beside him in invitation, pouring him a cup. There is a plate of steamed black sugar manju buns with chestnut paste— welcome sweets served by the staff. This room certainly has another level of hospitality. He could almost forgive Blade for the slander. Almost.
Preferring to take his second recommended bath of the day after the evening meal, Dan Heng settles on the couch in the lounge while Blade and Dan Feng go out to try the private hot springs.
After skimming the local news to keep himself updated, Dan Heng catches up on his replies to Stelle and March, leaving out unnecessary details. For example, an aberrant imagenae appearing and running into a certain Stellaron Hunter…
There is plenty of work to be done, data entries to be written, updated, or organized in the aftermath of the Phantasmoon Games. He settles in with his jade abacus and a glass of water. Engrossed in his work, it’s a while before his attention is pulled away by an excited call from outside of “Dan Heng, Dan Heng! Look at this!”
Brow creasing, Dan Heng raises his head. His jaw loosens at the vision beyond the glass doors, a large Azure Dragon occupying the springs.
Evidently playing around with his form, the dragon is slightly larger than twice the height of a grown man, not as massive as the original, but sized comfortably to fit in the bath.
Curiosity has Dan Heng going outside. When he crouches down by the springs, Dan Feng comes over. “You’re having too much fun,” Dan Heng says dryly, but he can’t quite keep the awe out of his voice. When he hesitates in reaching out to touch, Dan Feng pushes his head into Dan Heng’s hand. The blue-green fur is soft, the smooth scales warm from the bath.
Blade doesn’t seem to mind the overgrown dragon in his bath either, running his palm over the coil of tail near him. “So you can turn into a small noodle and a big noodle. Congratulations, Your Highness.”
“Yingxing!” The dragon whacks Blade with his tail. Twice.
Dan Heng can’t help his laughter; the outraged expression on Dan Feng’s face is hilarious.
Dan Feng huffs at them both but steals a few glances at Dan Heng. He nudges Dan Heng with his snout, nearly sending him sprawling with the sudden force. “A-Heng, I want sake.”
Blade raises his hand. “One for me too, A-Heng.”
Dan Heng rolls his eyes. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your server.”
Putting his chin on Dan Heng’s knee, the dragon gazes up at him soulfully, his eyes shimmering slightly.
“…”
What happened to Yinyue-jun’s dignity?
**
The minibar is fully stocked with drinks, snacks, and alcohol. Dan Heng takes a can of iced oolong tea for himself and two bottles of sake, bringing it all out on a wooden tray. One bottle of sake is poured into a bowl and set on the ledge of the bath for Dan Feng. The other is left on the round wooden tray with a small cup, floated over to Blade.
“Thank you, Dan Heng.” The dragon’s tail waves, happily lowering his head to drink the wine.
Blade raises his cup to him. “Many thanks.”
Dan Heng dips his chin in acknowledgement and goes to settle on the deck chair, taking out his jade abacus. It makes no difference if he works out here or inside, and it lets him sneak a few shots of the dragon in the springs on his phone. He is caught by Blade who looks right at him, but Dan Feng doesn’t notice, too enamored with his big noodle form.
Dan Feng returns to being a Vidyadhara for dinner, hiding in the bedroom while the attendant lays out an elaborate multicourse meal on the dining table. There is enough for three, Blade having ordered two portions for himself. Accordingly, the extra set is placed on Blade’s side of the table, so Dan Heng doesn’t know why Dan Feng comes to sit next to him when the attendant leaves.
A curl of his claws, and the dishes float over, arranging themselves neatly in front of Dan Feng. There is no sign of strain but whether it is the transformations or the use of the Cloudhymn, it must be expending Wishpower.
Dan Heng pushes down his worry. Dan Feng knows the cost, perhaps better than him, and… he looks so content, an easiness Dan Heng has never seen about him. Even with Yingxing, it was rare for Dan Feng to completely put down appearances.
Now, Dan Feng is acting freely, as he always wished to. How could Dan Heng say anything about it? Perhaps it’s even because his days are numbered that Dan Feng is able to lay down the burden of his sins, living to the fullest.
The melancholic thoughts are interrupted by a plump sweet shrimp placed into his bowl by Dan Feng.
Dan Feng doesn’t notice the strange look Dan Heng gives him, busy putting a juicy chunk of seared beef into Blade’s bowl.
Feeling weird, Dan Heng tries to catch Blade’s eye, but Blade eats the food placed in his bowl without blinking, seeming not to have noticed anything abnormal.
A few more choice bits of meat make it into Blade’s bowl, select pieces of seafood into Dan Heng’s. It’s completely unnecessary, the food more than enough for Dan Heng. Pleasantly full by the end of the meal, Dan Heng gives his leftovers to Blade who gladly takes them, and passes the small cup of plum wine to Dan Feng.
When it comes time to turn in for the night, Dan Heng discovers a huge problem.
There is only one bed.
“…You go sleep on the couch,” Dan Heng tells Blade.
Blade ignores him, lying down on the bed and closing his eyes.
While Dan Heng is debating kicking Blade out of bed or just going to take the couch himself, another body adds himself to the mattress.
Dan Feng is wearing the plain yukata robe provided by the hotel, finding it closer to his customary sleepwear than the pajamas Dan Heng offered him.
That decides it.
Dan Heng turns to go to the lounge. He doesn’t even make it a step before a tail snakes around his waist and drags him onto the bed.
“Dan Feng! What are you doing?” Dan Heng hisses, landing with a soft thump.
“The bed is big enough for three,” Dan Feng replies calmly, reeling him in.
That really isn’t the problem here…
“You slept with Stelle and March before.”
Blade’s eyes open, looking over.
“That was a sleepover,” Dan Heng is quick to clarify. “The girls wanted to.”
Dan Feng nods sagely. “Isn’t this the same?”
Dan Heng glares. It’s not the same at all and Dan Feng knows it!
He argues with Dan Feng for a while longer, but it’s true that old ginger is spicier. He manages to free himself of the tail at least, sleeping at the far edge of the bed.
The excitement of the day catching up to him, Dan Heng quickly drops off into slumber.
**
The configuration of bodies on waking is nowhere near as neat or polite as when they went to bed. Dan Heng finds himself inexplicably in the middle of the bed, his cheek squished against a hot, ample chest. He blames it on Dan Feng, who is the absolute worst, sprawled haphazardly over the both of them with his tail partly wound around Dan Heng in a death grip. Again.
Dan Heng doesn’t know whether to be grateful or not when Blade acts as if it’s perfectly normal to have two dragons sleeping on top of him.
Breakfast is more manageable that morning, with Blade acting as uncomplaining food disposal. Badgered by Dan Feng, they go to the Inkford shopping street afterwards, two people dragged around by a small dragon. Dan Feng treats them both as his perches, wandering indiscriminately from one pair of shoulders to the other, winding through the air when he catches sight of something of interest. When he gets cold, he goes to hide in Blade’s… chest.
“Yingxing, look at this snow sculpture! Doesn’t it look like A-Yuan?”
Blade grunts in agreement.
(Dan Heng tilts his head at the snowman, but aside from the :3 expression drawn on its face, he sees no resemblance to the General.)
In the bookstore: “Dan Heng, Dan Heng, buy me this.”
Dan Feng is coiled on top of a five comic set of The Fluffy, tapping it with his tail.
Is this some ‘your money is my money’ mentality?
Scowling, Dan Heng opens his wallet.
When they get to the souvenir shop, Dan Feng has surprisingly good advice, helping Dan Heng pick out gifts for the Astral Express crew.
Blade also makes a few purchases for his fellow Stellaron Hunters. Buying a pretty blue ribbon patterned with snowflakes, he nearly manages to tie a bow around Dan Feng’s neck before the dragon realizes what he is doing.
They exit the store with a huffy dragon and a three claw marks across Blade’s face.
A trip is made to the Dreamy Scoops ice cream parlor to pacify the dragon.
In this weather, Dan Heng doesn’t have any particular inclination for ice cream, but Blade purchases a cone of black sesame ice cream for him, ordering a double scoop with pear and hojicha for himself. Dan Heng knows without asking that it’s so Dan Feng can try all three flavors, that same problem of his gluttonous palate being larger than his stomach.
Is Blade using him as an ice cream cone holder?
Shrugging, Dan Heng takes a bite. And then another. And another. He has never had ice cream in this flavor and it’s delicious. Finding himself with only the cone left and a small dragon’s sad, accusatory eyes on him, Dan Heng goes back to purchase another cup. Dan Feng nibbles from one side, Dan Heng taking a few tasty scoops from the other before handing the spoon to Blade.
This… feels familiar …?
…
Well, Blade seems to like the black sesame ice cream well enough, so it’s fine. Nothing abnormal here. He’s just definitely never letting Stelle or March hear of this or else he’ll be teased to world’s end.
“Last bite.” Blade offers him the spoon. “Want it?”
Dan Heng’s body temperature has already dropped to frigid levels, but the gluttonous palate must be hereditary. Taking the spoon, he eats the last few inadvisably delicious bites.
When he tosses the paper cup into the trash, he is shivering. A soft, warm weight drops over his shoulders—Blade’s red coat. It’s really warm, carrying the heat from Blade’ body. Drawing the edges around himself, Dan Heng looks up at the other. “Aren’t you cold?”
In answer, Blade takes Dan Heng’s hand, bringing it to his chest. His heat is like a furnace, the muscle beneath his palm firm. “Save your concern,” Blade says, amused.
Curled around Blade’s neck, Dan Feng peers down at Dan Heng. It isn’t easy to read his dragon face but his expression seems to be sly.
“You’re due for your morning soak, aren’t you?” Releasing Dan Heng’s hand, Blade turns. “Let’s go.”
**
Dan Feng loves the hot springs, seeming to enjoy them most in his larger dragon form. Draped from one side of the bath to the other, he rather resembles a giant overcooked noodle at present.
Finished taking a call with the Stellaron Hunters, the bedroom door opens. Blade comes over to where Dan Heng is reading on the couch and sits on the cushioned arm, looking out.
“How long is he here for?” Blade asks quietly.
“Not long. He said… he’ll be gone by the time I leave.”
Blade just nods, accepting this calmly, and Dan Heng wonders what he is thinking.
Seeing that emotionless acceptance, Dan Heng is no longer able to hold back the question that has been bothering him since the day Blade left for that distant shore.
“Why didn’t you let me accompany you on that final road?” It doesn’t seem like the right moment to ask, but perhaps it will never be the right moment. “At the very least, I could have seen you off.” The words are subdued. He shouldn’t care so much about it. They were adversaries. Then, they were something else, but he still wouldn’t call Blade a friend.
Blade’s reply is just as muted. “You always hated saying farewell.”
“I’m not him,” Dan Heng bites out sharply, covering unexpected hurt with anger.
“You are not.” The certainty with which Blade makes the statement is somewhat mollifying. “You possess the same noble heart, but you grew up in vastly different environments. As a consequence, your principles, your values, are somewhat different.” He turns his head, the red-gold of his eyes intent. “But did you know? I think you cherish your companions even more than he did.”
Does he …?
That might just be true, Dan Heng realizes, stunned. “You… you’re not my companion.”
“No,” Blade agrees. He reaches out, the motion slow. When Dan Heng doesn’t avoid it, he takes his hand.
“Not quite companions… but something more.”
Dan Heng grips Blade’s hand with unconscious strength. His head is lowered, eyes tracing the familiar shape of long, rough fingers beneath the bandages. “I wanted to go,” he says lowly, his voice hoarse with emotion.
Looking at Dan Heng’s bowed head, Blade’s lips move, but no sound escapes.
In the end, he says nothing at all.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want you to come.
I didn’t want you to see… what might become of me.
**
The days pass.
On one night, Blade is woken by Dan Heng’s distress, the thick scent of brine in the air, the panicked sound of his breaths.
“No… Blade—!” Dan Heng wakes with a loud gasp.
Blade’s pulse is rattled but he keeps his eyes closed, his breathing even.
It’s a few long seconds before Blade feels a subtle shift of weight, Dan Heng climbing out of the bed while trying not to wake the other two occupants.
The door closes softly.
Opening his eyes, Blade finds Dan Feng awake, looking at him.
I’ll go, Dan Feng mouths. He lightly pats Blade on the shoulder.
Blade nods, grateful.
Light as a ghost, Dan Feng slips out of the room.
Exhaling heavily, Blade closes his eyes, but isn’t able to fall back asleep. Through the door, he hears the low murmur of voices. A few minutes later a faint, floral fragrance reaches his nose, the scent of herbal tea.
What nightmare had Dan Heng seen? Blade’s recent… departure, or the times beforewhen he had been hunted by him? It could even be both, but something about the way Dan Heng reacted makes him think there was a component of the latter.
A soft tune drifts through the wood, haunting, familiar. It’s the ancient song Dan Feng would sometimes sing for Yingxing when he had vicious nightmares of the borisin, a lullaby older than memory.
When the song drifts to a close, Blade goes out to check on them, his heart feeling restless. The Vidyadhara are on one of the couches, Dan Heng uneasily asleep with his head in Dan Feng’s lap.
Dan Feng raises a finger to his lips. At Blade’s nod, he slides his arms under Dan Heng, carrying him back into the bedroom.
Blade slumps onto the couch, pouring a cup of tea from the pot and downing it. The liquid is lukewarm but fragrant—soothing chrysanthemum.
The bedroom door clicks softly, Dan Feng returning to take the seat beside him.
“You always use that creepy lullaby.” Blade’s dig is halfhearted.
Dan Feng hums. “It has good efficacy.”
Blade gazes sightlessly at the night beyond the glass doors.
“He still has those nightmares.”
Dan Feng borrows Blade’s hand, placing it on the teapot, and Blade obligingly warms it with elemental energy. “Though not as frequently of ‘Blade’ of late, your presence draws my memories to the fore.” He habitually refills Blade’s cup, then his own, the motions absent and graceful. “The threads of the past and present are deeply entangled within Dan Heng. In the shifting and mercurial nature of dreams, what rises to the surface is at the caprice of the subconscious.”
Is Dan Feng comforting him? He expected some degree of condemnation. Whatever Dan Feng’s sentiments towards Yingxing may be, he has always been overprotective of those he cares for. “Do you not blame me?”
Dan Feng lowers his eyes, cup held delicately between his fingers. “Dan Heng has let go of those grudges. Who am I to insist?”
If there is anyone who would know Dan Heng’s true sentiments, it would be Dan Feng, the dreaming memory hidden in the depths of Dan Heng’s unconscious that has seen the whole story, the mara… the madness.
Yet Dan Feng still calls him Yingxing. When Dan Feng looks at him, is it still only the past that he sees?
“That is Dan Heng. What is Blade to you?” The question is out before Blade thinks better of it. “No, don’t answer that,” he snaps, lips twisted in self-disgust.
What a meaningless thing to ask. It’s pathetic. Centuries later and a part of him still craves Yinyue-jun’s approval. The person who joined him in dragging so many lives into the abyss. The one who brought everything past the point of no return.
Dan Feng sets his cup down, porcelain clinking on wood. Cool fingers touch Blade’s face, turning him unwillingly to face Dan Feng. “You are Yingxing, and you are Rèn.”
“I said leave it.” Blade’s frown deepens, trying to pull away, but sharp claws dig into his jaw, keeping him in place. He growls. “Dan Feng—"
The preternatural glow of cerulean eyes stops Blade’s words in his throat. “You forged yourself with the Abundance you despise, smelted and shaped against the anvil of a thousand deaths into this consummate Blade,” Dan Feng says slowly. “Qiānyě Rèn. This title… really suits you.” Like staring into the abyssal sea, Blade is not able to look away. “Your every work is a masterpiece, never failing to leave me in awe.”
Long fingers caress Blade’s cheek, the touch tender.
“And this one is no different, the greatest of them all.”
Beautiful.
Something in Blade’s chest cracks open, bleeding warmth, and an almost violent shudder goes through him. His head drops onto Dan Feng’s shoulder, concealing his expression.
Gentle claws scritch Blade’s scalp comfortingly, a soft kiss pressed to his hair.
**
Dan Feng changes his form whenever he likes, using Cloudhymn as casually as he had in his prime. He does it effortlessly, but Dan Heng knows it is not without cost. Dan Feng is burning through the Wishpower that sustains an imagenae’s existence with no thought to conservation, living every day like he is dying.
I won’t stay for long, Dan Feng said to him, the morning he appeared. That had not been a conjecture.
It was a promise.
With each passing day, the dragon’s decline is more obvious. He stops using Cloudhymn. Then, he no longer changes into the larger dragon shape to enjoy the baths. His energy gradually fades, falling asleep in the middle of talking, spending more and more time in slumber.
Despite understanding that this is Dan Feng’s choice, Dan Heng finds himself anxious, frequently dragging Dan Feng into the hot springs. It’s a joint effort with Blade to delay the inevitable, no words needed between them.
Dan Feng goes along with them, gently amused.
By the time Dan Heng is nearly healed, Dan Feng is no longer able to transform, only able to maintain his lowest energy state as a small dragon.
**
Dan Heng wakes to an empty bed, the indentation in the sheets beside him still warm. The bedside clock reads 05:12 AM, two hours earlier than he usually rises and four hours before Dan Feng has been able to open his eyes the past two days.
Dan Heng is off the bed and out the door before he has fully woken.
He immediately sees Blade on exiting the room, seated on the couch with his back to him. The curve of his strong shoulders is defeated, his head bowed. Dan Heng strides over, his steps slowing to a stop at the side of the sofa.
Blade is looking expressionlessly down at his hands where a small dragon is curled in the warmth of his broad palms, snoozing away.
Dan Feng is still here.
Dan Heng lets out a silent, unsteady breath, the frantic pace of his heart slowing.
At least… at least this time Blade can say goodbye.
Sudden emotion rises, Dan Heng pressing his lips tightly together against the soreness beneath his breastbone. He thought he had resolved this past of his, so why… why does he feel loathe to part?
“Do…” Dan Heng swallows, wetting his suddenly dry throat. “Do you want him to stay?” He has been thinking about it. More accurately, it’s all he has been able to think about.
Blade’s gaze slowly lifts to meet his, his expression unreadable.
“The Astral Express will arrive in Planarcardia the day after tomorrow.” There were dicey developments during the second Holy Grail War, but all had ended well, the tournament concluding earlier than anticipated. The joint decision by the Astral Express was to come pick Dan Heng up instead of having him take IPC transport to Penacony, with the side benefit of letting Himeko check in on the Arcadia. “I can ask Himeko if she can help paint Dan Feng a stable form or if she has any ideas for bolstering his Wishpower.”
The answer is slow to come. “I… don’t need him,” Blade finally says, but his voice cracks and his eyes are a dull, rusted red.
Mirrored in those wounded eyes is the same ache stifled in Dan Heng’s chest. It gives him the courage to confess. “I want him here.” He swallows. “I want him with us.”
Blade seems a bit dazed. “I thought I was imagining it,” he mumbles.
“I’m not sure it can be done, anchoring him in existence,” Dan Heng cautions, careful not to give false hope though truthfully, he thinks their odds aren’t bad. “But… I want to try.”
Blade’s fingers curl around the small dragon, cradling him gently. “I also want Dan Feng to stay,” he says, holding Dan Heng’s gaze, “but I can only agree if you are doing this for yourself.”
Dan Heng’s heart softens. “I am,” he promises. He will contact Himeko as soon as it is morning in Penacony. They just need to convince the person himself who may, in fact, be the most difficult to persuade. Considering how stubborn the old dragon is, he suggests, “Let’s go to Dreamy Cones after breakfast.”
“We need ice cream,” Blade concurs almost simultaneously, and they share a small smile.