Chapter Text
You breathed deep as the grass bent softly underfoot, pausing in your step only to lean your head back and stare upwards to gaze at the glittering sky. True darkness never came, not anymore, not with the sheer volume of stars. Belts of diamonds painted the sky, dazzling from worlds away; some held no patterns, no constellations, no fate. They just…existed amid a swirling galaxy beyond. A fractured sister lingered on the threshold, her siblings just beyond, a reminder of what once was mere myth.
Soon enough, there would be an entire generation born who only knew this sky. In some cases, that was all anyone knew as it was. Blank history books were still uncovered in batches every few weeks, barely any references to more than the First Descent and then Celestia itself.
The entire world was born anew with little to guide it.
Smiling, you continued on your way, fireflies flickering as the foliage grew thicker. You could barely make out the space between two rocks now; vegetation was finally beginning to truly thrive here, no doubt thanks to the rain from the last several weeks. You pressed a palm to the rock as you slipped through the crevice, the stone cool and damp beneath your touch, fighting the urge to press your face against it.
The air was sweet but sticky here, clinging to every fiber. While you did not miss brutal winter, you certainly would not have minded a breeze that took the moisture away. It seemed to dissipate for a moment when you finally reached the other end and began up the narrow, winding trail, footsteps light and cautious. Flickers of bioluminescence revealed a mother shroomboar, eyes wary as her babies rested in a nearby patch of high grass. You avoided the dancing tails of the tigers, twitching in their sleep in the branches above in time with the soft honks of dusk birds.
When you reached the crest of the hill, you paused again, mindful of your steps.
You found him bathed in the light of the Nilotpala Lotuses, ends of his hair damp as he bent to examine the petals of one. The loose strands that framed his face melted into the water, his shoulders bent, fingers turning the flower idly. Droplets of water rolled off his neck as he shifted, the water rippling silently.
He looked like he belonged here, a fracture of the man he would have, should have, been. Had the world treated him differently. The edge was never truly gone, although the arrogance and pride were finally sanded down into certainty, the chips filled in as he allowed himself a chance to embrace the other elements hidden behind a façade of power. Unabashedly curious, as always, voicing his thoughts and findings as one spoke of the weather.
Driven not be a need to be right (although it helped, of course) but by a desire to understand.
“I know you’re there.”
You felt a creeping heat in your cheeks at his tone and you stepped forward, spongy grass giving way to dirt. “Am I not allowed to admire you?”
Zandik looked at you over his shoulder, eyebrow arched before he turned to you entirely.
“And you would prefer to do so from over there?” he shot back. “When I’m right here?”
Without waiting for a response, Zandik pushed away the water as he swam in your direction; as soon as his feet hit the bottom, he stood taller, walking towards you unashamed. Each step revealed more skin than the last and although you knew his form the way you knew your instrument, you couldn’t help but shift your weight and force your eyes to lock with his. Otherwise, you would be far too preoccupied watching water bead across muscles, fingers twitching to tangle his wet hair between them.
Zandik chuckled and you tried and failed to turn away, only for his lips to find your earlobe when he wrapped his arms around you. You inhaled sharply when you felt his breath against the shell of your ear, teeth tugging at the soft flesh. He relented when you gave a soft moan, pulling away enough to bring your hand to his lips.
You reached between you with your other hand, finding him half-hard in your grip. A squeeze earned you a peck on your fingertips, feather-light and hot.
“You were entranced after dinner,” Zandik observed, kissing another finger. “What ideas and sentiments have dug their claws into you tonight?”
Through your lashes, you gazed up at him. “A new piece. You’ll understand when I’ve finished the composition.”
Although your music room was partially soundproof, you knew he could still hear every note and feel the vibrations when you played. It did not take much to figure out the tone of the piece or the scenes you were depicting, and you were under no impression he did not already have some notion. He had to know by now but you were determined for it to be a surprise; there was still more work to be done.
You heard the shift of his focus more than you saw the way his mouth set. “Any difficulties?”
Of course. If he heard you play, then he picked up on the gap in the pattern when your bow slipped from your hand momentarily. Your grip never quite recovered. Your palm still ached when thunder rolled in and your fingers locked up at the worst moments. Every time you touched Zandik’s cheek, the picture your skin painted felt incomplete, the areas numb to most sensations. Like now, when you felt the force of his lips against your ring finger more than you did the brush of his lips or the heat of his mouth.
But it was only one hand. Singular. You still had your other one. And your body and soul to go with it.
More than enough.
All of this was more than enough.
The thought grounded you just enough to snap out of the burning images behind your eyelids that were accompanied by flashes of the aftermath above, expressionless faces amid a sea of suffering…
“Just the usual,” you whispered, letting go of him to rest your other hand on his chest, palm against his beating heart. “Nothing that hinders me.”
Zandik’s expression remained neutral except for a twitch of his eyebrow, arching again in faint skepticism. A window of opportunity to take back the small white lie he knew was for his benefit, not to bother him with a problem that had no viable solution. He muttered an affirmation into your hair before he kissed your forehead.
It was the truth though, at least in part. It didn’t prevent you from day-to-day tasks. You still played, still used your hand, could still pick Zaytun Peaches at the market without issue. What was a little pain for a lifetime of happiness?
“I would tell you otherwise,” you soothed. “What of your research? Pierro seemed as if…”
“Stable, at least for now. The Captain, on the other hand…his experiences with the Night Kingdom after I departed Natlan took a toll on him. Enough of that for now.”
Zandik pressed a final kiss to your palm, over the scarred flesh, burning garnets gazing at you. He tugged lightly, guiding you towards the water. Both of you reached for the simple stays of your top, flinging garments aside with abandon. Pebbles sank into the silt underfoot as he brought you into the water, never letting you out of his reach. The water caressed your skin, silky and cool compared to the air around you.
Zandik found your thigh with ease and pulled your leg up, silently guiding you to wrap your legs around him. He was still hard and you nestled against him, teasing him with your hips only once before he stilled you with a squeeze of your waist. He glided through the water until you were in the center of the natural pool amid the lotuses.
“What were you thinking before I interrupted?” you asked. “You seemed as if you wanted to burn holes through that flower earlier, the way you were looking at it…”
He neared one of the lotus flowers close, petals of deep blue fading into morning sky, their golden center shining bright. You let go of him to brush your fingers over the velvety petals and the stamen, your skin coming away yellow with pollen until you rinsed it off in the water. Amid the locals, you were told that the flower was used in the making of soma, which led to a muttered a correction of “haoma” and an eyeroll beneath an Eremite’s mask.
Zandik plucked the heart of the lotus with ease and cradled it between you, pensive.
“These flowers once held the memories of a time before,” he said. “I was speculating that they were once bright but now seem to shine brighter still. Their mistress is before them again and their loyalties are rewarded. Of all the things that have changed, they appear to otherwise be consistent.”
Nimble fingers maneuvered the flower and tucked the large blossom behind your left ear, grazing your cheek before they withdrew back beneath water. He gazed at you again, eyes tracing your face, seemingly memorizing you.
“Just like you, rooh 'albi.”
You didn’t remember when, precisely, the dreams began; they ended with the knowledge that you were no longer consigned to walk alone in darkness, a hand never far from reach.