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“No matter what form you take, no matter where you try to hide—” Dan Heng perks up at the familiar voice that rings through the emptiness of the abandoned station, “—I have always been able to find you.”
When Blade steps out from behind the crumbling ruins of what likely was once a building, the tidal wave of relief that Dan Heng feels at seeing that Blade is alive — he’s alive, he’s alive, Yao Guang’s prophecy of a funeral was wrong — is enough to make him feel lightheaded. Instead of giving into his instinctual need for comfort and hurrying to Blade’s side, though, Dan Heng opens his mouth and says, “It’s not hard to chase me down, when you have the link of our bracers to guide you.”
Blade raises an eyebrow. “Are you wearing that bracer now?”
Dan Heng looks down: he’s still in his Permansor Terrae form, having felt the need to be able to throw up more shields should additional enemies appear before them. (Not like the shields did them much good against Asat Pramad, what with his ability to calculate all potential offensive and defensive moves that they could throw against him, but with Welt providing the offense, Dan Heng knew he needed to take a step back and offer his support.) So, Blade is correct — tucked away in the pocket of space where he keeps the garb for his human disguise, the dragon bracer that once linked Dan Feng and Yingxing together is not what drew Blade to Dan Heng.
It won’t do to give Blade too big of ego, though, so Dan Heng stays quiet, instead choosing to take in Blade’s altered appearance. With a start, Dan Heng realizes why Blade’s gaze appeared a touch foreign at first: his eyes no longer carry the haunted look of a man who scorns life’s sufferings in exchange for death’s fleeting platitudes.
“The mara,” Dan Heng says, voice just barely above a whisper, stepping forward to look closer into clear pools of molten gold. “It’s been cured.”
Blade huffs, the corners of his eyes softening. “The insatiable hunger of the Voracity and Shuhu’s unending desire for life are at war within me, fueling the constant reforging of my person. Through their Sisyphean efforts, I have been born anew.”
Before Dan Heng can think of anything to say — nothing feels appropriate, no spoken words feel like they will be able to express the tangle of emotions curled in his chest — Blade continues, “Though I will one day reach the end of the road that I’ve sought for so long, for now, I know that I am meant to stay alive to protect those who have given me a second chance.”
It’s not quite an enthusiastic embrace of his life, but it’s enough. From a man whose only purpose was to die to a man who has found his reason for living, Blade truly has managed to piece himself back together in a way only a masterful craftsman could.
Getting Blade to see his worth, understand that he as a person is more valuable than what he can offer others, can come later; for now, Dan Heng’s heart feels fit to burst at the knowledge that they now have an opportunity to face the future together.
Dan Heng reaches out, his hand coming to rest atop Blade’s own. “And I will be right there with you, when that time comes.”
A breath later, though, Dan Heng’s expression drops, his eyes narrowing into a glare. His grip tightens, both an unconscious expression of his anger and an explicit warning. “And I won’t be letting you stop me again.”
Blade doesn’t even wince at the increased pressure around his hand, and the chuckle that tumbles from his lips is half amused, half incredulous. “Are you still upset that I did not let you accompany me to face the Voracity? You were needed here.”
And you didn’t need me? Dan Heng thinks but does not say, his capacity for embarrassment returning in full force at the reminder that the two of them are not the only people on this crumbling, abandoned platform.
Mr. Yang, perhaps sensing that now is a good time, clears his throat and enters their conversation. “I assume you’ve been sent to fetch us because something has gone awry.”
Blade nods. “The Lord Ravager that you faced earlier appeared in multiple locations concurrently. As it turns out, he disguised himself as a human and boarded the Astral Express to catch your Navigator off guard. She was last reported to have engaged in a conflict with him, so we left The World in Canvas promptly to locate her, but the Stellaron Child’s attempts to make contact were unsuccessful. Asat Pramad has destroyed much of Ahatopia…but he plans to join the Phantasmoon Games as a supplicant.”
At hearing Asat Pramad’s true plans, Dan Heng can’t help but furrow his brows. “If he has already destroyed much of Planarcadia, then what use are the Phantasmoon Games?”
“In order to fully awaken the Voracity, he must accumulate a massive amount of Wishpower. That is likely the ultimate destruction he seeks, even beyond the apocalypse he has brought upon Planarcadia,” Blade explains, crossing his arms. “Additionally, Asat Pramad appears to have the ability to play tricks with time. Before I was sent to locate the two of you, we fought the Lord Ravager — but the cowardly rat ran.”
A Lord Ravager with the ability to manipulate time… It is no wonder that General Yao Guang, Mr. Yang, and Dan Heng struggled so much against him earlier. Certainly, Asat Pramad is a powerful opponent, but to have an advantage that is virtually undetectable is surely a major reason as to why he has remained undefeated for so long.
With a long-suffering sigh, Mr. Yang pinches his nose between his fingers. “I am glad that I sent General Yao Guang away to assist the rest of the Express when I did,” he says. “And I trust that you are here to lead us back to Planarcadia proper?”
“I am.”
“Then lead the way,” Mr. Yang says, pushing his glasses further up his face. “We have no time to waste.”
Having apparently explained everything he felt was relevant, Blade turns around and starts walking.
It is strange, looking at Blade’s back. Blade’s long, dark hair is streaked with white at the ends, and his red coat serves as a stark contrast to the oppressive shadows of the abandoned station; the way he walks, too, shines with a distinct self-assuredness that is undoubtedly new yet feels completely natural. Like a flame, Blade lights the way, beckoning them to follow him through the darkness.
Dan Heng has spent so many years turning his back on Blade, running from a past he vehemently denied was his, that the novelty of the moment sticks out to him.
After a moment’s hesitation, Dan Heng looks over at Mr. Yang, a question in his eyes that he’s still a bit too shy to say out loud.
Mr. Yang nods. “Go on,” he whispers, offering Dan Heng an encouraging smile. “You two must have a lot to talk about.”
Being known is a mortifying ordeal, but Dan Heng is truly and deeply grateful for Mr. Yang. And Himeko, too, of course. The two of them welcomed him with open arms when he first came stumbling onto the Astral Express, bloodied and bruised and with little else to offer besides his services as an archivist and guard, running from the very man he now wishes to stand beside. Though he will never be glad for the torture he was forced to endure in his childhood, his exile from the Xianzhou has led to so many blessings.
One day, after this is all over, Dan Heng will find a way to tell both Mr. Yang and Himeko how much their compassion means to him.
For now, Dan Heng hastens his steps so he can catch up to Blade.
“You mentioned being forged anew,” Dan Heng says, his eyes roving over Blade’s form. The way he holds himself is markedly lighter, the heavy burdens of the mara and his own regrets having been hammered away. “Should we call you Yingxing again, or is there another name you wish to go by?”
“Naming my creations has always been my greatest weakness.” The look Blade gives is unreadable. “You may call me whatever you want.”
“Blade, then,” Dan Heng replies. “I wouldn’t dare rename what the craftsman has already deemed to be sufficient.”
Though Blade does not say anything to that, by the way the corners of his lips quirk upward, Dan Heng has the distinct feeling that he has made the right choice.
For several moments, the two of them walk through the abandoned station in silence. Despite the severity of the situation, despite the horrors that await them, the quiet shared between Blade and Dan Heng is comfortable. Walking beside Blade as they ready themselves for battle feels familiar — even if it is a comfort born from their past lives, Dan Heng enjoys it all the same.
Eventually, Dan Heng confesses, “I am glad that this was not your funeral.”
Blade does not reply immediately. When Dan Heng opens his mouth to continue, though, Blade finally answers.
“The chances of it being my funeral were very low,” Blade says, placing his hand upon his chest. “It was more likely that my body would have been torn apart, again and again, by the Voracity, while my consciousness remained.”
That is new information to Dan Heng. Red rims the corners of his vision.
“And you still went through with it?” Dan Heng doesn’t shout, but the anger is palpable in his voice. To think that the dangers that Blade wanted to keep Dan Heng away from were even worse than what he told Dan Heng!
“There was no other choice,” Blade says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You would have done the same.”
Dan Heng wants to argue, wants to say, no, I wouldn’t have, that’s self-sacrificial and reckless — but it’s true.
Or, it might have once been true.
“Not anymore. I’ve learned the value of relying on others, when I know that I cannot face things alone,” Dan Heng replies, looking at Blade with a challenge in his eyes. “A value that a certain someone could care to learn for himself.”
Blade’s eyes widen ever so slightly before relaxing, the previously tiny smile on his face growing further. “I see. You really have taken a new step forward.”
It’s not praise, not really, but the softness of Blade’s gaze and the warmth in the words cause a light blush to dust over Dan Heng’s cheeks.
Before Blade left to face the Voracity on his own, Dan Heng had a few words he wanted to say to Blade — but, ultimately, he failed to muster up the courage to speak them out loud. Now, though there is technically no need to share parting words any longer, Dan Heng decides that it is best not to leave anything up in the air. Around them, the floating ruins and shattered concrete of a once-bustling station remind Dan Heng that fate, on a simple whim, can decide at any time to take away this hard-won opportunity.
“If that had been your funeral, I would have regretted that you died without me ever getting to know you. The you that exists beyond what I can see in Dan Feng’s memories,” Dan Heng says softly, just quietly enough that he hopes only Blade can hear.
This time, Dan Heng does not expect Blade to answer right away, or even answer at all. The exit to this abandoned station must be near; though Asat Pramad knocked both he and Mr. Yang quite far down the path, they have been walking quite a while. It is all right if some of the secrets Dan Heng laid bare are left unanswered, so long as they are acknowledged.
Right when Dan Heng thinks that they will be moving on from their conversation, Blade stops. Confused, Dan Heng begins to ask Blade if there’s a reason he’s stopped walking, but Blade turns fully toward him and grabs his arm.
“I would have had the same regret.” Blade’s grip on his arm is firm, but even without it, Dan Heng feels rooted to the spot. “You and I — we are no longer what we once were to one another.”
Thump. Thump. Thump. Dan Heng’s heartbeat is in his ears, and Dan Heng’s breath is caught in his throat, and Blade’s eyes are as luminous as the stars Dan Heng loves to gaze at through the expansive windows of the Astral Express.
“Yet, for all the time I spent chasing after you, wishing you would finally acknowledge our past,” Blade says, “I never dared let myself wonder what we could have become had we more time.”
Before Dan Heng is consciously aware of what he is doing, he leans forward to press a soft kiss against the smooth skin of Blade’s cheek.
Dan Heng pulls back just as quickly, a reddish tinge on his ears and a hurried apology on his tongue, but a hand behind his head pulls him in again.
Blade’s lips are slightly chapped against his, but they are soft and so, so warm. Blade’s hand slides over to rest gently along the curve of his face, the bandages rough but not unpleasant against his skin, and Dan Heng’s eyes flutter shut, his own tail winding loosely around Blade’s ankle to anchor them together.
It’s easy to forget just how vastly cold the abandoned station is, with how Blade ignites a gentle flame within Dan Heng’s heart, with how comforted Dan Heng feels with their breaths mingling as one.
Through Dan Feng’s memories, Dan Heng has experienced many kisses exchanged between Yingxing and he. Still, none of them can compare to the kiss Dan Heng shares now with Blade.
This time, when Blade pulls away, Dan Heng tries to follow.
“We’ll talk more after.” Blade runs his hand over Dan Heng’s pointed ear, over the slope of his neck, and down the length of his arm, coming to a rest on Dan Heng’s hand. The smile has faded off his face, but the reverence remains in Blade’s eyes as he runs his thumb over the metallic tips of Dan Heng’s hand guard before he tangles their fingers together.
Suddenly remembering what they are headed out to do, Dan Heng darts a glance behind them. Mr. Yang’s earnest thumbs up is both endearing and embarrassing, so Dan Heng looks away and focuses back on Blade.
Just a few more seconds of indulgence, then they can get back to their mission.
Dan Heng allows his tail to squeeze Blade’s ankle one last time before he dematerializes it, casting away the power of the Earth Coreflame and finally relaxing into the human form that Blade first found him in all those years ago in those early days of his exile.
So many things have changed since then, and so many things have stayed the same: in the end, it seems their souls will always recognize each other.
“After,” Dan Heng confirms, giving Blade’s hand a short squeeze.
And of all the things in the universe they could wish for, an after is the best thing they can promise each other.