Chapter Text
“Move, move! Clear a path! We’ve got wounded coming through!”
“Someone get the Alchemy Commission on the line, tell them to send Bailu. It’s an emergency.”
“Stay with me, okay?”
“Clear a path! Everybody move!”
“Sushang, keep pressure on the wound, as hard as you can.”
“I’m trying, I’m trying—”
“MOVE!”
. . .
Tingyun is floating.
She must be, because she can’t feel any sort of surface around her to anchor or support her. Her eyes are closed, but she can feel her hair tickle her cheek, the fabric of her clothes forming rippling waves, free from the forces of gravity. So she’s floating in the air.
Unless she’s swimming? Perhaps there is liquid around her. She can’t really tell. But actually, come to think of it, she can’t breathe liquid. She would be drowning.
…Maybe she is drowning.
There are noises in her ears. Voices? They’re garbled, as if she’s trying to listen through molasses.
“Pulse is erratic. She’s going into shock.”
“I know, I know! Get out of my way and let me work!”
Whatever space she’s in shifts itself around her, and all of a sudden her feet are gently touching down on solid ground. It’s an unsettling sensation. She takes a few tiny steps, just to steady herself, and it’s only then that it occurs to her to open her eyes.
What she’s standing on is some sort of featureless, slightly transparent grey floor that extends as far as she can see. She taps it with the tip of her shoe. From the sound, it doesn’t seem to be glass. She’s not really sure what it is.
But that is much less interesting than what is on the upper side of the horizon. Above her is the night sky – not the Luofu’s eternally familiar sky, with its generic hazy blue, but a proper night sky, dotted with uncountable stars. They look almost like little specks of light that she can just reach out and pluck out of the air. Though when she idly raises a hand to try, it becomes apparent that she cannot.
She turns her head on a swivel to examine the area around her. To her surprise, there’s someone else here with her, hunched over in the fetal position, facing away from her. They look like a child. Tingyun turns the rest of her body to the direction her head is facing and walks over.
Once she’s a couple small paces away from the child, she crouches down and puts on her most nonthreatening smile. “Hello there, little one!” she calls out. “Are you alright?”
The child looks back at her. She’s a Foxian girl, with long, pointed ears and a big bushy tail that looks absolutely adorable on a creature so tiny. She’s dressed in maroon-colored Xianzhou garments, and her hair is a rich brown. Her wide eyes are a bright, piercing shade of green that seems familiar, that tickles a certain part of Tingyun’s memory.
Oh. Those are Tingyun’s eyes.
“Miss?” the girl says, reaching a tiny hand out. “Can you help me?”
“Brain activity is spiking.”
“That doesn’t make sense. What’s causing this?”
“I’ll look into it. Keep working.”
Tingyun barely hesitates before kicking the child square in the side. The small girl goes tumbling comically, and Tingyun takes the opportunity to retreat a few steps back and go into what is hopefully a decent imitation of a fighting stance.
The girl, meanwhile, picks herself back up and brushes some nonexistent dust off her. “Ouch,” she says. “That was mean of you. Do you really hate yourself that much?”
“You’re not my therapist,” Tingyun answers. “And you’re definitely not me.”
“Y-you’re so cruel, miss,” the girl whimpers, wiping a tear from her eye. “Do I really grow up to be someone like you?”
“That’s quite audacious of you to say, considering you’re the one who made me like this, Miss Lord Ravager,” Tingyun says, crossing her arms. “Or are we close enough for me to call you ‘Phantylia’?”
The child sighs and slumps her shoulders. When speaks, her voice is still that of a child’s, but it has an echo-y undercurrent to it. “You just had to ruin my fun?”
“Well, you body-snatched me, so… yes, yes I did,” Tingyun says. “I mean, I understand why, it’s a very nice body and all.”
“It is,” Phantylia agrees, tilting her head to the side and staring at Tingyun emotionlessly. “Shame I couldn’t keep the neck intact. I’ve always been a little too rough when I’m playing with my toys.”
A chill runs up Tingyun’s spine at that. She wants to look away, but she can’t help but gaze into those empty, childlike green eyes. Is this how other people feel when they talk to her? “W-well, if you can’t take care of a collector’s item, then that’s on you,” she recovers. “But enough small talk. What’s a Lord Ravager of the Antimatter Legion doing around these parts?”
“Just cleaning up a mess I left behind,” Phantylia says, inspecting her fingernails. “I ended up leaving the Luofu in a bit of a hurry last time, you see. I didn’t have enough time to make sure all the loose ends are tied up. And, well.” She smirks. “When I got word that a certain Foxian was running around performing parlor tricks, I just had to take a look.”
“So this—” Tingyun gestures to the scenery, “—is your doing, then?”
“Not exactly,” Phantylia says. Her Foxian tail swishes behind her. “It’s a mere byproduct of me cutting off your brain from most external stimuli. I needed you conscious for this little talk, not constantly passing out from pain.”
“Passing out…?”
“You were impaled, little plaything.”
“Keep her vitals steady. I’m going to get to work on the wound.”
“Gotcha.”
“Diviner Fu, please clear the room. We’re going to need to focus here.”
Tingyun looks down to see a dark red stain spread across her torso. “Ah. Right,” she murmurs. “That was inconvenient.”
“And amateurish,” Phantylia adds, leisurely walking toward Tingyun. “Honestly, I have no issue with your existence as a concept. I’m always happy to have more envoys to spread Destruction. But what I’ve seen so far from you is just… disappointing.”
Tingyun raises an eyebrow. “Did you miss the part where I just tore off someone’s head?”
Phantylia scoffs. “Exactly. You’re only taken a few cursed lives. If it were up to me, that ambassador from Xin-41 would have left that alleyway with his entrails hanging out of him.”
“Killing him would have been pointless. I needed him alive to achieve my aims,” Tingyun retorts.
“Is the killing itself not the purpose?” Phantylia asks, strolling around Tingyun. “Should the act of tearing someone apart and watching them destroy themselves not be your end goal? But instead of fulfilling your potential, you tie yourself to pointless loyalties and allow yourself to be smothered in the womb. Pathetic,” she sighs.
“And what gives you the right to judge me?” Tingyun says. “The last time I checked, you gained the powers of two paths and were still humiliated by a near-retiree and a disgraced High Elder.”
“You forget your place,” Phantylia says, clenching a fist.
Instantly, Tingyun’s knees give out, and she falls onto all fours. She tries to get up, to no avail. There’s no pain – in fact, there’s no feeling in her body at all. She can hear her breath become quick and ragged, but she can’t feel the air going in or the rise and fall of her chest. She’s been completely shut out.
Phantylia grabs Tingyun’s chin with one hand and forces her to look into her eyes. “Now do you see? This power of Destruction you’ve been using is all mine. You owe all of your recent accomplishments to me.” She playfully taps the tip of Tingyun’s nose with her other hand. “I don’t know exactly how much you remember from our first encounter, but you should know: in order to become you, I first had to unmake you. It is what I do best. I peeled back every layer of your soul, and tore out your very core. A little accidental exchange of my power was the only reason the process didn’t reduce you to an empty husk. Everything you are now, and everything you ever will be, is thanks to me.” She grins. “That is my right.”
Phantylia snaps her fingers, and all of a sudden Tingyun is back in control of her body again. She collapses to the ground, coughing. “W-what…” she manages to get out, “…what happens to me now, then?”
“Well, I—”
“Okay, let’s get those last few stitches in, then we’re done.”
“Hmm. Sealing this wound was a lot easier than expected.”
“And what, you’re complaining?”
“Heh. No, I’m definitely not.”
The scenery around them suddenly begins to brighten. The voices are getting louder.
Phantylia looks on in mild amusement. “It appears we’re about to be interrupted. We’ll just have to continue this later, then.” She stares into Tingyun’s eyes. “If I were you, I’d enjoy the extra time.”
The scenery becomes blinding white, and Tingyun squeezes her eyes shut.
. . .
The Alchemy Commission’s patient rooms allow for outside visits of up to six hours. Yukong is on hour four when Tingyun opens her eyes.
The first thing Tingyun does is try to sit up in her bed, but she’s bleary-eyed and clearly out of it, so Yukong sets down her book and rushes over to help her prop herself into a sitting position. Tingyun blinks a couple times, then her eyes zero in on Yukong’s face. “Madam Yukong…?” she mumbles.
Yukong nods. “Yes, it’s me. I’m here.” She rests one of her hands over Tingyun’s.
Tingyun scans the room. It’s beige, square, and thoroughly unremarkable. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the Alchemy Commission,” Yukong explains. “You’ve suffered some serious injuries. How much do you remember?”
Tingyun thinks for a moment. “I was… at the Divination Commission, yes? I was making art. And then I got stabbed.” She frowns.
“Diviner Fu and a few others rushed you over here, then the Healer Lady patched you up, with some help from a traveling merchant. Sushang called him in,” Yukong says. “The good news is, you’re healing a lot faster than normal.”
“For now,” Tingyun says cryptically.
“…What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tingyun surveys the room again, with a little more scrutiny this time – her eyes linger a little longer on the corners and edges. “Madam Yukong, I don’t suppose you’ve seen an unhinged, malevolent version of my child self anywhere around here?”
Yukong takes a couple seconds to process that sentence. “I… don’t believe so.”
Tingyun nods. “Good.” Then she tosses the covers off her bed and moves her legs over the edge. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to,” she hisses through gritted teeth.
Yukong puts a gentle, but firm hand on Tingyun’s shoulder. “Tingyun, with all due respect, have you lost your mind?”
Tingyun shrugs. “It’s up in the air, these days.”
“The doctors had to stitch your intestines back together by hand,” Yukong says. “I don’t care how fast you’re healing, you aren’t well enough to be on your feet.”
Tingyun rubs the bandage covering most of her right side and winces. “I’m perfectly fine,” she lies.
“You are clearly in immense pain right now.”
Tingyun tilts her head to the side and half-smiles. “You’re this worried about me? I’m honestly rather touched.” Her eyes glow with a purple tint. She leans closer to Yukong.
Yukong puts her pointer finger up in front of Tingyun’s lips. “Don’t. Don’t pull that trick on me again.”
Tingyun pauses, then reluctantly pulls away. “Madam Yukong, I’m really not certain how to explain this to you,” she says sadly. “What’s going on right now is simply… beyond your comprehension.”
Yukong furrows her brow. “Try me.”
“I don’t really have time for this,” Tingyun groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just allow me to leave.”
“Not going to happen. You’re staying where you are until you are discharged.”
“And how long will that take?”
“Exactly as long as it needs to, Tingyun. This is a medical center.”
Tingyun growls, then pushes her palms down on the bed and forces her legs under her until she’s in a wobbly standing position. “I’m leaving,” she says, her voice an octave lower.
Yukong stands as well. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve nearly lost you twice already, and I’m not going sit around and see if number three is the one that finishes the job!” Yukong shouts.
“…”
Yukong takes a couple of deep breaths to try and calm herself. “Tingyun, I… I can’t lose another person.”
Tingyun crosses her arms and looks off into the corner of the room. “I’m surprised you care so much about a ‘monster child’.”
“I care when it’s you,” Yukong says simply.
A pause. “…Am I ‘me’? Truly?”
“Do you honestly think that matters right now?” Yukong responds. “Get back in bed. I’m going to grab an alchemist and let them know you’re awake.”
The two stare at each other for a few moments.
And then a few moments more.
Until finally, a displeased-looking Tingyun sits back down on the bed. Victory. Yukong takes a moment to mentally switch gears, then turns around to fetch the jade abacus that will summon an alchemist to the room.
All in all, it takes about twenty-five seconds for Yukong to pick up the device, unlock it, and send off the message. A relatively quick and easy task.
And yet, when she turns around again, all that greets her is an empty bed and an open window. Tingyun has vanished into thin air.
Yukong cradles her forehead in her palm. “That… brat is going to be the death of me, I swear,” she groans. Then she unlocks the jade abacus again to send an update about Tingyun’s voluntary defenestration.
…Wait a minute, aren’t they on the fifth floor?
. . .
One of the benefits to the Luofu being such a busy place: the rooftops are relatively close together. Even with Tingyun’s injuries, it’s not too much of an effort to leap between them, quickly putting distance between her and the Alchemy Commission.
Still, though, her movements are stilted, and the gown they’ve put her in makes the exertion awkward to say the least. It takes a few minutes to find a suitable positioned building that she can sit on without the danger of accidentally flashing hundreds of pedestrians. That would definitely summon the authorities in a hurry.
So. She has a Lord Ravager gunning for her soul. What is she going to do about that?
Her usual tricks of charisma and deceit aren’t going to be of much use here; Phantylia has her outmatched there and then some. If Phantylia is currently in possession of a physical body, it’s likely one that Tingyun has no hope of overpowering. And if it ends up being a battle on the mental plane, she clearly has no chance there, either. She could go to the Cloud Knights for protection, but there’s no guarantee they’d believe her – or, alternatively, they’ll believe her too much and simply lock her up on the spot.
This is certainly a dilemma. But as much as Tingyun isn’t sure she’s really alive, she definitely doesn’t want to die. She’ll simply have to find a way.
These are the thoughts that are going through Tingyun’s mind as two more figures noisily pull themselves up onto the roof behind her. From the sound of their exertion, they’re winded from the climb, and would probably be easy to take by surprise. Tingyun quietly breaks off a loose roof tile.
“Ugh. Remind me why we’re—oh crap, there she is!” one of the interlopers says. She has a high-pitched, somewhat nasally voice.
“Jackpot,” the second one concurs. That voice sounds familiar.
When Tingyun cranes her head back to take a look at the pair, her suspicions are confirmed – those smooth tones belong to Stelle, one of the heroes of the Luofu. Which means the perky cotton candy girl next to her is likely March 7th, her associate. The latter scoops up a Diting, powers it off, then stashes it in her bag. “Wow,” Tingyun giggles, “Yukong must be serious about catching me if she called in you two.”
“You… know us?” March asks cautiously.
“Only by reputation,” Tingyun says. “But I’m guessing the feeling isn’t mutual, is it?”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Stelle says, moseying over to where Tingyun is sitting. “How are you feeling?”
“That depends entirely on whether or not you’re about to try and drag me back to the Alchemy Commission,” Tingyun answers.
“I’m not sure yet,” Stelle says, glancing back at March. The girl hasn’t moved from her spot, and is carefully watching Tingyun from a distance.
“You can tell your friend to come over, you know,” Tingyun teases. “I don’t bite. Unless people ask me to.”
March flushes red. “I’m good, thanks!”
“Hey, try not to rile her up too much, okay?” Stelle murmurs to Tingyun. “She took your, ah… ‘death’ pretty hard. She’s just a little on edge.”
Tingyun raises an eyebrow. “Were ‘we’ close?”
Stelle shrugs. “Not particularly, I don’t think. But ‘you’ were with us for a while, and March pack bonds with anything that moves.”
Tingyun leans back on the palms of her hands. “Well, if either of you are expecting your ‘old pal Tingyun’ or anything like that, I’m afraid you’re going to be sorely disappointed,” she says.
Stelle takes a seat next to her. “I know. Yukong said you’d changed.”
“I’m surprised she used such generous language.”
Stelle frowns. “…What language would you use?”
“’Change’ implies an intentional transition process,” Tingyun says. “All I remember is passing out and then waking up like… this.” She absentmindedly tilts her head to the side and gazes into Stelle’s eyes. “So perhaps… ‘altered’ would be a better term.”
“Hmm.” Stelle nods, considering that. “But… you’re still fundamentally the same person, right?”
“That’s a very good question,” Tingyun replies.
“…Can you elaborate?”
“No.”
Stelle awkwardly fiddles with one of her gloves. “Okay.”
Any further conversation is interrupted by footsteps behind them. March 7th slowly creeps up to Tingyun’s other side, then gingerly sits down as well. Tingyun idly notices that the pair of trailblazers are now in a perfect pincer position to attack her.
“So, um…” March begins, tapping her pointer fingers together. “When the Express crew first found me in the ice – oh, um, I was frozen in ice, by the way – I couldn’t really remember anything about me. And after I gave myself a new name, and started making a new life for myself, I started to wonder, you know. What was the old me like? What sort of things was she interested in? Did she have a family? And, well… if I ever met them, would they still love the new me as much…?”
On Tingyun’s other side, Stelle gazes at March with fondness in her eyes.
“So yeah, just silly stuff like that,” March continues. “…Is that kind of what it’s like for you?”
Tingyun observes March. “You seem awfully chipper about this.”
“Ehh,” March says. “I guess at some point I realized that I don’t want to sacrifice the me that I am now for a me that I can’t bring back… if that makes sense at all?”
Tingyun nods. “Tell me about Phantylia.”
March blinks in surprise at the sudden topic change, but Stelle picks up the slack. “The looking-like-you version, or the big tiddy plant lady version?” she asks.
March reaches past Tingyun and smacks Stelle upside the head.
“Ow!” Stelle shouts in mock anger, batting away March’s hand. “Okay, but seriously, I don’t really know what to tell you about her. She was pretending to be you, and then she got a big body from the evil magic tree. Then we beat her up, she decided we were too much trouble, and she left. Honestly, there was so much information coming my way at the end there, I mostly just zoned out and let Mr. Yang do all the talking.”
March deflates. “Yeah… same.”
“Well, I’m glad we have such capable heroes defending the Xianzhou…” Tingyun deadpans.
March scoffs. “Rude.”
“…But I think I need to be going now.” Tingyun stands and strolls to the edge of the roof.
Stelle and March are right behind her. “Wait! What’s going on?” March asks.
“Just a quick meeting between like minds, don’t worry,” Tingyun says, tossing the broken-off ceiling tile over her shoulder. “You’ve already proven yourselves capable of tracking me, so trust me when I say that I’ll be reporting back to the Sky-Faring Commission within two hours. If I miss that deadline, feel free to come find me.” Then she takes another step – and drops off the side of the building.
A few second later, she lands in a laundry cart six stories down. It hurts. As soon as she’s regained her bearings, she pulls on a robe from the pile and scampers off into the shadows.
Meanwhile, on top of the building, Stelle and March stare at the fleeing Tingyun, then at each other.
Stelle grimaces. “…Do you want to try and make that jump?”
“Nope,” March answers.
. . .
There are a few things Tingyun has to do to get ready for her meeting. First, obviously, is that she has to make herself presentable. For that, she makes a trip back to her house for a shower and a change of clothes. She didn’t stick around the Alchemy Commission long enough to learn how to care for her bandaged wound, so she settles for keeping the water off it as much as possible and avoiding stretching that area.
After that, there’s a quick makeup job, some extensive tail grooming (the poor thing was in such horrid condition), and a quick top-up in the form of a nutrient bar and an energy drink. From there, the last thing left to do is to type up a quick text message containing only a set of coordinates. After doing some quick math in her head, she queues the message to send in twenty minutes.
With her preparations complete, she exits her house and hops on a starskiff bound for Cloudford. Thankfully, there are no incidents along the way, and her schedule remains intact.
Cloudford is still under travel restrictions following recent events, but with Tingyun’s position – as well as a few cashed-in favors – the Cloud Knights guarding the area let her pass. It isn’t long before she’s arrived at a very specific docking port, currently closed down for eventual repairs. Emphasis on ‘eventual’, as it’s currently empty. Perfect.
Tingyun takes a seat on top of one of the empty shipping containers, closes her eyes, and focuses. She tries to recall her memories of the Lord Ravager, both the more recent ones from when she was unconscious, and the scattered, broken ones from months prior. She recalls her feelings of helplessness, of captivity, of her body and mind being invaded by a malevolent force. And once she locates that force, still deep within her, she pokes it and prods it and tugs at it, until it’s finally fed up enough to push back.
Although no physical force hits her, the shock is still enough to send Tingyun stumbling off the shipping container. After she picks herself up, she realizes there’s a figure standing in front of her. At least, she thinks it’s a figure – it’s kind of hard to tell. It’s made of yellowish-green flame in a humanoid shape, and sometimes Tingyun thinks she can pin down a human feature, like a specific eye or a nose, but then it’s gone again. This figure somehow has many identities, and yet at the same time, none at all.
“Well,” Tingyun says, “at least you aren’t my childhood self anymore.”
The figure cocks its head to the side. “Plaything. This is an unexpected surprise.”
“Come now, Phantylia. Aren’t we close enough to be on a first-name basis? After all, you’ve been inside me…” Tingyun smirks.
“Hmm. I would have thought you would lose your mind in panic, slowly driving yourself mad until I came to collect you,” Phantylia muses. “It would have been so very entertaining.”
“So sorry to disappoint you again,” Tingyun says with the utmost insincerity, “but I’d like to get this over with sooner rather than later.”
Phantylia chuckles. It’s a dark and unsettling sound. “I must have broken something inside you. You are either delusionally brave or simply suicidal.”
“I’ll have you know—” Tingyun crosses her arms— “that I spent my time wisely.”
“Considering the company you keep, I doubt that greatly.”
Tingyun can’t help but narrow her eyes at that. She almost launches a defensive retort, but stops herself at the last second. Anger won’t win a battle of wits. “Mock me all you like, but there is worth in every ally, if you are smart enough and know where to look. Namely, they knew some things I needed to confirm about you.”
Phantylia seems to raise a fiery eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“I already suspected based on our previous interactions, but you’re… selfish, aren’t you?” Tingyun says pointedly. “You claim to follow the path of Destruction with all of your heart, but your defeat at the Ambrosial Arbor proves that your loyalties do not take precedence over your own life. Rare as these occasions might be for you, you would rather retreat from a losing battle than suffer for the cause. Am I wrong?”
Phantylia scoffs. “How ironic that you accuse me of selfishness, when you have used my power to enrich yourself and save your own skin.”
“Ah, but I don’t pretend to be an elevated being far beyond mortals,” Tingyun fires back, wagging a finger. “I know perfectly well what my true goals are. But you… you have aliases behind aliases, and yes, I am counting ‘Phantylia’ as one of them.” She’s really reaching right now, but she’s not dead yet, so she might as well keep going. “That’s why I chose this spot to have our little conversation. Do you remember it?” She gestures around the port. “This is where you had your debut performance as ‘me’. I think it’s only fitting that this is where our relationship has its curtain call.”
“You seem very confident that this will end well for you,” Phantylia says, stepping closer.
“Not confident,” Tingyun responds, “just prepared. Phantylia, I’ve come to bargain.”
There’s a pause.
And then Phantylia breaks out into a harsh, nails-on-chalkboard laugh that pierces Tingyun’s eardrums like a knife. The area around grows darker, and Phantylia’s flame changes into an ugly, sickly green. Her form grows larger, too, until she towers over Tingyun. “And what, pray tell,” she cackles, “do you have to bargain with?”
Tingyun simply tilts her head to the side and shoots Phantylia her best amicassador smile. “Your sanity.”
“Are you seriously threatening me?” Phantylia says, incredulous. “I could rip apart your entire being on a whim.”
“Yes, you could,” Tingyun acknowledges. “By all means, take your power back. Leave me an empty husk devoid of life. But in exchange, that little piece of me – of my power – that you’ve put inside you will make your life a living hell.”
“It is not your power, plaything. It is mine.”
“Then I’ll make it mine,” Tingyun retorts cheerfully, stepping closer to Phantylia. The green flames lick at her clothes. “Every part of you that you let me touch, I will corrupt. Every aspect of your being that I lay my hands on, I will pervert. I will lay down my roots deep inside your soul and gorge myself on your innards until the very act of living is painful for you. I will pay you back for every ounce of my consciousness that you’re tainted tenfold. And I will never stop, not until the last embers of your existence burn out at the end of the universe. Or…” she says, innocently stroking her chin, “…you could fuck off my ship right now, and we never see each other again. How’s that for a bargain?”
Phantylia slams a flaming hand down on the ground right beside Tingyun. The Foxian doesn’t flinch. “And you assume that I cannot simply annihilate your consciousness the moment it is in my hand?”
Tingyun shrugs. “Maybe. But you’ve failed to kill me twice already. And I’m fairly confident in my ability to destroy you from the inside. After all…” she muses, leaning in until Phantylia’s flames tickle her nose, “…I learned from the best, didn’t I?”
Phantylia hums quietly – then her fiery form swirls and shrinks back to its normal size. “Very well,” she chuckles. “I will play along. Consider our association terminated. But…” she pauses, putting up a pointer finger, “…I will be watching your career with… great interest. The Xianzhou has other trials to face, and I cannot wait to see how far you are willing to go to protect it.”
“I’m sure,” Tingyun retorts. “But now that our business is concluded, I believe it’s time for you to get going.”
And right on cue, Sushang comes tearing past a pile of shipping containers, launching herself towards Phantylia. With a yell of “Piss off, ghost!”, she swings her massive sword and cleaves Phantylia’s apparition in two, causing it to dissipate.
Tingyun stomps a bit at the floor where it vanished, just to make sure.
Sushang, out of breath, swings her sword back over her shoulder and turns to face Tingyun. “Did I get her?” she asks, wild-eyed.
“No, but I didn’t need you to,” Tingyun says, patting her on the shoulder. “Your contribution was mainly for dramatic effect, and I’d say you did a stellar job.”
“Oh. I don’t really understand, but thanks!” Sushang beams. “Um… is there anything else you needed me for? You message only had these coordinates…”
“No, that was all. Thank you for the assistance, benefactor,” Tingyun says warmly.
“Hey, it’s no problem! It’s the job of the Cloud Knights to help those in need!” Sushang boasts. “But, um… I should probably be getting back to my patrol. Can I escort you back to Starskiff Haven?”
“That would be most appreciated,” Tingyun responds. “As it happens, I have somewhere I need to be as well.”
Tingyun double checks the spot where Phantylia was as they leave. Still nothing.
. . .
After parting with Sushang at the entrance to Starskiff Haven, Tingyun arrives back at the Sky-Faring Commission with five minutes to spare on her self-imposed two-hour time limit. Yukong and Fu Xuan are already assembling a squad of Cloud Knights outside the building.
Yukong spots her approach first. “…Tingyun?” she asks trepidatiously.
“Madam Yukong!” Tingyun greets her, giving a quick salute. “Amicassador Tingyun, declaring myself fit for duty.” Then, after a pause: “…There’s a lot of Cloud Knights here. Is there something going on?” she wonders innocently.
Just then, Fu Xuan glances over at Tingyun. “Oh, you’re back,” she says. “Hmm.”
“My, my, Diviner Fu!” Tingyun says, putting a hand over her chest. “Don’t tell me you’re saddened by my recovery? How hurtful.”
Fu Xuan’s eyebrow twitches. “Nothing of the sort. I just believed that you would miss your deadline, and that we would have to retrieve you.” She sighs. “And as a result, I now owe Qingque a hundred Strale.”
Yukong makes a valiant effort not to snicker at that.
Fu Xuan, meanwhile, waves at the group of Cloud Knights to get their attention. “The operation is cancelled, you’re all dismissed! Return to your posts!” she orders. They disperse, muttering confusedly.
“So,” Yukong begins, crossing her arms, “what happens now?”
“I’m going to go contact the Astral Express crew and let them know they’re off the hook,” Fu Xuan says. “I suppose that leaves you with the amicassador. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” And with that, she walks away.
Tingyun turns to Yukong and grins. “Well, Madam Yukong, I’m ready to get back to work. Shall we?”
Yukong, for her part, only gazes at Tingyun with an indescribable expression. “You’re back,” she says simply.
“I am,” Tingyun cheerfully agrees.
“And… you’re still you, right?”
“In every way that matters, I believe so,” Tingyun replies. “In fact, I would say that I’m more myself than I have been for quite some time.”
Yukong chuckles, a soft smile appearing on her face. “Well, you’re still just as frustrating…”
“I will choose to take that as a compli—oh!”
Tingyun is interrupted as Yukong springs forward and pulls Tingyun into a bone-crushing hug. She holds Tingyun’s body tightly, not letting there be even the slightest distance between them. Then she leans in and whispers into Tingyun’s ear, “If you EVER do something like that again, I will physically chain you to a desk myself.”
Tingyun smirks. “Understood.”
“And you’re getting daily visits from Bailu to take care of your wound.”
“Free massages, yay.”
Yukong finally releases Tingyun from the hug and pulls back, but still keeps one hand on her shoulder. “Also, you’re getting a medal from the general for helping to resolve the hostage crisis in a few days. Make sure to dress well.”
“I’ll brush my tail,” Tingyun chirps.
Yukong chuckles and shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you?”
Tingyun shrugs. “Give me a raise?” she suggests.
“Nice try,” Yukong says, turning and strolling up to the Sky-Faring Commission’s front entrance. “Let’s get to work. And… do me and yourself a favor and try not to get into trouble for the next while. The good will you’ve earned at the Divination Commission won’t last forever.”
“I make no promises,” Tingyun says, gliding in and pulling open the door for Yukong. “After you?”
“How kind of you.” Yukong enters, with Tingyun not far behind. The door swings shut behind them with a click.
The inside of the Sky-Faring Commission is bustling, as usual. Most of the staff barely have time to give Yukong a quick “Madam” (and Tingyun an odd stare) as the pair passes them by.
Eventually, Tingyun and Yukong reach the latter’s desk, and the Helm Master plucks a stack of papers off it and hands them to her subordinate. “This is a challenging one,” Yukong explains. “Diplomats from the Klimt Republic are driving a hard bargain. They’ve already frozen out Yanming from the Celestial Guild, so we’re going to need a warm and welcoming personality to get them to agree on a deal. Do you think you’re up for it?”
Tingyun quickly scans the papers: demands, previous negotiations, and the goods up for grabs. Nothing the her of today can’t handle. She tucks the pages under her arm and grins. “I’ll get right on it.”
“Good. You’re dismissed.”
Tingyun does a playful little salute before strolling back out of the Sky-Faring Commission. Only after she’s outside – and out of view – does she take a deep breath.
Time to get to work.