Chapter Text
There’s a brief, hopeful moment when Dan Heng thinks Yingxing will quickly get bored of the object and get back to kissing him. He’s not sure when phones—or their jade abacus equivalent—became ubiquitous on the Luofu, but even so, Dan Heng’s phone is new and fresh off Pom-Pom’s latest inventory refresh. There’s no way an advanced piece of tech would slip a man like Yingxing, and he watches the man’s blue eyes take it in, at first only curious.
Yingxing hovers it over his face, the screen catching his reflection, and the heated flush starts to fade back to pale white skin. His eyes scan every millimeter of the object, and slowly, Yingxing removes his legs from over Dan Heng and sits cross-legged on the bed. He repeats again, gravelly and thick, “What is this?"
Dan Heng can’t think of a quick enough response. Yingxing’s face continues to twist, and he touches his lips, tongue breaching the seam of his mouth for a moment, questioning, before he removes himself from the bed completely.
Dan Heng panics. “Yingxing—”
“Who are you?” He keeps his voice low, much lower than Dan Heng’s own shout of his name from the bed, but Yingxing is still frantic. “Is this a trick? Are you some imposter posing as the High Elder?” There is a spark in his eyes, that blue becoming ice, and Yingxing throws the phone back on the bed, away from Dan Heng but still with incredible force. On any other surface, the screen would have shattered. “Is this thing supporting your illusion? Or is your form…” He snarls. “Where is Dan Feng?”
“I…” Dan Heng swallows. What is he going to say? That he…that he is Dan Feng? How can he say that when half of him doesn’t even believe it? “I don’t know.”
“What question does that answer?” Yingxing looks as if he’s going to heave. Every bit of his skin is a sickly hue of green. His hands can’t stop fidgeting, and he wipes at his mouth again, disgust there in every action. Dan Heng feels his heart drop even more.
“I don’t know where Dan Feng is.” His thoughts are tattered, but he sorts through Yingxing’s questions backwards. He tries to keep his exterior cool, even. He couldn’t have a panicked Blade. He didn’t—“That thing is a communication device, my phone. It doesn’t support any illusion. This is my true form.” He pauses. “I…I don’t know if you would call me an imposter.”
“What’s your name?” Yingxing bites out again, voice still barely a whisper. He’s backed away so far from the bed, clearly putting himself between Dan Heng and where Cloud-Piercer lay on the floor.
Dan Heng tries his best not to look at the weapon itself. He doesn’t want Yingxing to think he’s a danger to him, and Dan Heng counts himself lucky Yingxing hasn’t attacked him. Though he isn’t—not yet—Blade. His low voice and his cautious actions give Dan Heng hope that Yingxing will not even call the Cloud Knights from outside. But Yingxing’s face is still shrouded in a dark cloud. He’s uneasy, infuriated, and there’s no way out of this, is there? He exhales and reaches for the phone an arm’s breadth away. “My name is Dan Heng.”
Yingxing snorts. It sounds malicious. “Dan Heng ?”
“I am…” Dan Heng breathes, chest heavy. The poison in Yingxing’s tone is palpable. “...also the Imbibitor Lunae.”
And that does something. For whatever reason, that sentence seems to make whatever chaotic thoughts in Yingxing’s head connect together, and the man’s eyes go round. Dan Heng watches his throat bob, watches as Yingxing carves a hand through his mussed hair and shakes his head. “That’s why…you look like him.”
Dan Heng nods.
“But you’re not the same.”
That statement shocks him. Dan Heng almost feels the urge to correct him. “I’m not?”
“Dan Heng. Imbibitor Lunae…” Yingxing picks apart the words and starts to pace in small circles. “Are you before or after?”
Before or after?
Yingxing pauses at the lack of response and looks up from the floor. “I don’t have all the previous forms of the High Elder memorized.”
Oh. “After.”
Yingxing inhales. “Right after?”
“Yes.”
“Dan Heng.” He mouths again, and his tongue tastes his lips again. “Why would you do this?” Yingxing awkwardly gestures to the bed. “Do you remember me? From Dan Feng’s memories?”
That would make his prior actions more explainable, wouldn’t it? If he remembered Dan Feng’s life perfectly, it would explain the intense pull he has to Yingxing. But that explanation feels imperfect, and Dan Heng worries any response would catch him in another lie.
Yingxing sighs, “Dan Feng told me a little about the Vidyadhara’s life cycle. Constant death and rebirth, but the memories of your past life often reappear?”
He’s taken back to visions of a glowing egg, of when this man was a misted whisper or a nightmare. Not this. “As dreams.
“Dreams.” Yingxing laughs again. It sounds much less vicious, but there’s no melody to it. “So you’ve dreamt about me? Was it…was it like this?”
Dan Heng shook his head. “I didn’t know what relationship we had, but the feelings towards you could be described as this.”
“Could be described?” Another sniff. “This is bullshit. Dan Heng. Dan Heng .” He paces again. “Where is Dan Feng if you’re here? Is he…no. No, the rebirth would take much longer than his disappearance.”
Dan Heng’s stomach twists. “He’s not dead.”
“Not in this time.” Yingxing growls. “Fuck.”
“Yingxing…” He wants to comfort him. Yingxing’s eyes are blown out, muscles tensing and throbbing again with anger. Dan Heng isn’t sure what to say. He lied to him. He misled this man to think he was someone he loved, and what can you say to that? Dan Heng catches his reflection in his phone. “I want to bring him back here too.”
“You masqueraded as our High Elder. You…you let me believe—” Yingxing cuts himself off. “You had no idea what I was talking about this whole time, did you?”
“No.”
“Hm. Of course. I should have known as soon as I found you in that Xianzhou form.” He doesn’t get nearer to the bed and sits on the floor. “Where is your home?”
And Dan Heng, absurdly, wants to say here. This…this feels like home. This room. This bed. His memories are devouring him, and at the same time, he feels this life slipping away. He watches Yingxing on the floor, feet tapping restlessly, and understands Dan Feng all over again.
To preserve this life, what would he risk? What would he do to make sure this stays the same forever?
“Dan Heng?”
The name cracks through him, whips Dan Heng out of thoughts of the Luofu and wine under star-studded trees. He has his own life. It may not be as powerful or romantic but it’s his .
He tells Yingxing the year first, and the man noticeably relaxes. There’s almost a flash of relief by how far out it is, and Yingxing confirms it by saying, “And you’re young still, aren’t you? I’m glad Dan Feng lives a long life in that form.”
Dan Heng stiffens on the bed. He won’t dare to say where Dan Feng died for surely it was the same place Dan Heng was born. “Vidyhadara never truly die.”
Yingxing’s eyes dart away from his face, and there’s something on his cheeks, almost like the faintest blush. “That’s good to hear. I don’t think I could take losing him. I know that sounds ridiculous. He isn’t even here right now, but if he were to…” Yingxing swallows. “Do you know how you got here?”
“No.”
“But you arrived when? When I found you in that other form in those bizarre clothes?”
Dan Heng nods and wants to move from the bed. He’s careful to move slowly and thinks perhaps it's best to brew more of that calming tea. He doesn’t attempt to sit near Cloud-Piercer. “I was heading to my time’s Luofu when I ended up here.”
“You were away from the ship? That’s uncommon for the High Elder. Why?”
Dan Heng brews the tea too early. It does little to avoid the question. “There are some things I don’t think I should explain.”
Yingxing doesn’t seem satisfied at all by the answer. He shakes his head, white hair looking incredibly frazzled as if to reflect his mood. “I suppose your current secrets don’t matter. All I care about is getting Dan Feng back.”
Dan Heng feels slighted, somehow, by his words, and he turns his focus away from Yingxing and the absolutely lovelorn look on his face. Nothing about this is personal. He should be grateful Yingxing isn’t turning him in or more visibly furious. Dan Heng steadies his breathing. “I’ve looked into it briefly at the Hall of Records.”
“And?”
“There’s no real insight as to how this happened.”
“Fuck.” Yingxing paces again. He pulls at his hair, messing it up even further, and then, suddenly, moves towards the door. “I can’t do this. Not right now. Dan…Dan Heng.”
“Where are you going?” It shouldn’t matter. As long as Yingxing didn’t plan on reporting him, his whereabouts are of no concern to Dan Heng. But still. His fingers are tense and digging into the expensive wood of the tea table.
“I need to figure this out. Alone.” There’s no other words spoken before Yingxing removes himself from the room, leaving Dan Heng anxious and out of breath.
He should have expected this. Brief memories aside, he has no idea who Dan Feng was. How he acted. His personality. His habits. His likes and dislikes. He was bound to get caught, and Dan Heng should count himself lucky, again, that it wasn’t in a more public forum.
His mouth, however, tastes of ash. There’s cold sweat forming along his horns and brow, and he feels like he’s disappointed someone incredibly dear to him. Yingxing ran from him, and Dan Heng almost wants to chase him down.
Even more so he wants to sleep and wake up and pretend he never, ever came back to this place.
It’s mid-afternoon by the time someone thinks to knock on the High Elder’s door and make sure he hasn’t vanished once again. Dan Heng has barely moved from the middle of the bed, phone dead and useless on the pillow to his right, legs curled into his stomach as if he were once again incased by a hard shell. He thinks to ignore the knocks on the door for as long as possible, and that moment seems to come by Jing Yuan’s distinct velvet tone talking through ways to possibly bypass the High Elder’s security system.
Dan Heng steadies himself as he approaches the door, not knowing fully if Yingxing had squealed. The lieutenant looks at him, credulous except for the low snicker at what must be terrible bedhead.
“I’ve had three Vidyadhara elders approach me over missed appointments.”
Of course. Dan Feng had a schedule full of responsibilities. “I haven’t been feeling well.”
“How strange. Yingxing said the same thing when I passed through the Artisanship Commision this morning. He completely ignored my taunt at his handiwork.” Jing Yuan takes a step forward and eyes Cloud-Piercer. “It’s impeccable. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“What brings you here, Jing Yuan?”
“I’m here as a friend, and to report that Baiheng was unable to identify the origins of that orbiting spacecraft.”
Dan Heng assumes that is something uncommon. He hopes his reaction is passable, but instead he feels mildly relieved that Jing Yuan feels comfortable enough sharing this information. That must mean Yingxing has yet to reveal his identity. “So just casual conversation then.”
“Dan Feng.”
And well, that solidifies it. Dan Heng rests his back against the now closed bedroom door. “Jing Yuan.”
“There is reason to believe that the ship was sent from Shuhu.”
Shuhu? Dan Heng knows that name. He has spent hours and hours in the Archives reading about the Emanator, drawn to its history like someone was tugging bit by bit on a connected thread. “Impossible.”
“I had thought so as well. Will you accompany me?”
Dan Heng swallows. “Where?”
“The Shackling Prison.”
His heart stammers, and he knows—he knows —it’s useless to try and hide his reaction to that place. He hopes Jing Yuan would attribute it to Shuhu and not…not…”Why?”
“My men have seized a denizen of the Abundance. We believe she is the one responsible for the experimentation with the Vidyadhara egg. I was hoping you would like to accompany me and Jingliu for her interrogation.”
No. He does not. He cannot help but think this is some elaborate trick, that he will be casually escorted back into the wretched place of his birth. Dan Heng feels that same cold sweat line his arms, his shoulders, but Jing Yuan looks at him, expectant, and there’s a tight, suffocating grip on Dan Heng’s heart.
“Let us go then.”
“Take that.” Jing Yuan points to Cloud-Piercer still hapless on the floor. “Though let’s hope this won’t be your first time using it.”
Jingliu is waiting in the center of the Seat of Divine Foresight. Her face remains stolid, expressionless, but Dan Heng can see that there’s an edge in her stance. Jing Yuan is brash enough to call her out on it. “Master, I can only apologize so many times for sending Baiheng. Please stop looking at me like that.”
“You’re fortunate that her starskiff is the only thing that was damaged.” Jingliu scoffed. “Let’s get this over with. Dan Feng?”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
His memories are biting as they walk towards the Shackling Prison. A starskiff had come and dropped them off on the long, elevated bridge, cycranes passing through with letters and packages to some of the less abhorrent prisoners. Nothing is different. His memories are like a photograph, perfectly capturing the bridge before him, the building that is shaped like a glowing vessel, pointed downwards and downwards into depths Dan Heng knows too well. He tries to keep his pace even with Jingliu and Jing Yuan, but the sway of white hair, the bright light of the midday sun are overwhelming.
“Why are you doing this?”
The man next to him is mostly silent, eyes still half-lidded. His dress and demeanor scream power, and Dan Heng knows he must be someone important. He was never supposed to leave those chains.
“I’m banishing you. Don’t think this is some huge favor. You are to leave the Luofu with nothing but the clothes on your back and your leftover trinkets. If you ever return here, you will be sent back to the Shackling Prison.” He avoids eye contact, but there’s a tinge of pain across his face as he looks at Dan Heng’s chest. The bruises from the chains are still there.
Dan Heng tests a word, “General?” and the man stiffens. Dan Heng clears his throat. “Thank you.”
His “trinkets” included new clothes and Cloud-Piercer. The weapon was at first surprising to him, but it felt like everything in his grip. He’s tempted to summon it now, but knowing that Yingxing made it for…not him, Dan Heng isn’t sure the same comfort would be there.
Jingliu exudes Dan Heng’s emotions. The woman—usually austere and graceful—seems as if she wants to run there and back from the prison. Surely Jing Yuan told her about Shuhu, and Dan Heng knows this must be after the rescue of the Yuque. He can’t pretend to know exactly what happened on that starship, but it did lead to the formation of the High-Cloud Quintet. The threat must have been immense.
The Shackling Prison is made of black, thick stone, magicked into something impenetrable and incredibly foreboding in the fake atmosphere of the Luofu. Dan Heng keeps his attention on the gate. There’s the stinging fear that if he were to look away, he’d be shoved in by force. He slows to dwindle slightly behind Jing Yuan, but he’s soon surrounded by Cloud Knights. They’re all reverent, bowing low and welcoming him with every single one of his titles. It’s a stark difference, whiplash, from when he was last here.
There are rows and rows of circular balconies, all connected by a winding staircase and a much faster lift for the deeper levels. Jing Yuan thanks the Cloud Knight that hands him a purple abacus that’s most likely some sort of access key. “No need for accompaniment. Thank you.” Jing Yuan maintains his light, lazy smile, but Dan Heng can’t help but notice the tightness in his shoulders as he scans the abacus and the lift quickly rises to meet them on the ground floor. The caged door of the lift opens, and Dan Heng hesitates. There’s a phantom ache in his wrists, his back, even as Jingliu lets loose a bored sigh.
“Imbibitor Lunae, I don’t intend on spending my entire afternoon here.”
"My apologies.” He takes a step forward and meets Jingliu and Jing Yuan in the middle of the elevator. The caged door slams closed with a creaking clang .
The shadows pass their bodies as the elevator shifts downwards. He counts the levels as they pass by, and sighs in relief when it’s much less than where his own cell was placed. This level, however, has the same dark walls, the same haunting green lanterns that cast barely there profiles of the Cloud Knights posted every few meters apart. Jingliu is the first off the lift and the first to approach a knight who directs them down one of the hallways from the circular balcony, each level constructed like the spoke of a wheel. Dan Heng doesn’t remember that particular detail, mind fuzzy when he was first told he could leave his cell and slowly unbound from each and every wall.
Jing Yuan released him.
He waited more than a decade to do it, but he did. Why?
“Ah, here we are.” Jing Yuan holds out a hand to a metal door, the numbers barely visible carved into the side of the wall. “The accused name is Gao Bai. I will lead the initial questioning.”
It’s not phrased a question, but Jing Yuan still waits for both Dan Heng and Jingliu to nod before waving the abacus against the door and entering the cell.
And it’s…too much.
The walls are the same. The chains are crisscrossed in that same, endless pattern, bounding the woman in the center down almost to the floor. They’re incredibly heavy. The woman looks like no more than a young girl, drowned by metal, and Dan Heng can remember these chains. Dan Heng remembers counting each and every link, desperately looking for a weakness, for a break, all the time questioning why he was even here.
Does anyone deserve this?
He looks at the older woman on the ground, pale, hair matted and thin. Her clothes are soaked in sweat, and Dan Heng can see the familiar raw bruises on her wrists.
“We should loosen the chains.”
Jingliu shoots him a horrified look, but Jing Yuan hums. “Do you hear that Miss Gao? The High Elder pities you. Your situation must be that desperate.”
Gao Bai shakes the chains lightly. “The High Elder graces me with his presence?” She looks up, and the grin that envelops her place is almost…calm. “Ah and the Sword Master as well. My situation must be of that much importance to be graced by so many of the High-Cloud Quintet.”
“And why would you think it holds so much importance?”
“The High Elder would know.” And her eyes scan Dan Heng, piercing through the sickly pallor of her skin. “What wouldn’t you sacrifice to live forever?”
“You corrupted the sacred ritual of the Vidyadhara.” Dan Heng’s tongue feels sour. “What did you do to create that abomination?”
“Abomination? I was meant to create more of your kind. Long would bless me.”
“Dan Feng.” Jing Yuan touches his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Please.”
Dan Heng didn’t realize how loud he was speaking, how his fists were clenched at the pitiful woman in the middle of the room. He took a step back, careful to stay away from the chains, as if any contact would be poison.
Jing Yuan’s low voice carries in the room, “Gao Bai, you are charged with breaking one of the unforgivable sins of the Alliance. I can’t express enough how your situation is both pitiful and important. You will be put on trial, where you will be found guilty by the judges. You will be sentenced to death and perhaps initial torture if the High Elder has his say.” Jing Yuan seems to stifle a yawn. “I suggest you tell us all what we’d like to know if you would like some leniency.”
Gao Bai sniffs. “Leniency?”
“Torture off the table. If your statement is satisfactory. Life in the Shackling Prison if it’s exceptional.”
“And what does a lieutenant of the Luofu wish to hear from me?”
“I wish to hear about Shuhu.”
Gao Bai stills as much as she could, suspended in the cell. Her hair falls over her face. “Shuhu…how we all long to be blessed as such.”
“He has an army.” Jing Yuan’s voice doesn’t waver. “Tell me about it.”
“No.”
“Then you will die.”
“An honorable death for the Aeon of Abundance. Perhaps Shuhu will even revive me.”
“How many ships has Shuhu gathered for his attack on the Luofu?”
“I am merely a humble servant.”
“A servant who works alone?”
“Under Yaoshi’s grace, I am never alone. Many are awed by the power of the Abundance.”
Jingliu rocks on her heels, and suddenly, a dark, broad sword is summoned into her grip. Dan Heng knows the blade intimately but never in her hand. “I say torture is still on the table. Lieutenant, let this master make this follower of the Abundance beg for death.”
Jing Yuan, surprisingly, doesn’t stop Jingliu’s approach. Her steps are heavy as she approaches Gao Bai, sword tip scraping the floor of the prison as if to sharpen its edge. Her gaze is harsh as she holds the sword up, effortlessly ready to swipe, when Dan Heng raises a hand. “Wait!”
Jingliu pauses and turns around. A knowing smile curves her lips. “High Elder?”
“Before you hurt her, I’d like to know the Vidyadhara she is working with.”
That gets a different reaction. Gao Bai shrugs her shoulders. “What do you mean?”
“To initiate the cycle of rebirth, you must have access to a Vidyadhara’s DNA. None of the current eggs have been tampered with.” A lie. He doesn't know. “So you must be working with someone alive. And from your appearance….” He sees the hard calluses in a familiar pattern and makes the call. “...your day job must be related to the Artisanship Commission. Am I correct?”
No rebuttal. Dan Heng continues, “It’ll be even quicker to locate the Vidyadhara from that alone. And though you are not afraid of a single death, can you be sure that they won’t fear an endless cycle of it?”
“High Elder…” Gao Bai says after a long pause. “You would do such a thing to your own kind?”
“I would sacrifice my home as my incarnation has before me. What is one individual to me?”
“One individual…” Her hands shake. Dan Heng can see a wet drop fall to the floor. “One individual can be everything.”
“We will find him.” Another guess. Another tear falls, and Dan Heng knows he’s correct. “We will replace him in this cell where you hang now.”
“Please, High Elder. If I…if i tell you what you want to know…you won’t look for him? Please. Promise me.”
More and more tears fall on the dark floor, so close to Jingliu’s boots. Dan Heng looks at Jing Yuan. The lieutenant nods his head. “If it’s exceptional though it will not change your fate.”
“I was going to die anyway.” Gao Bai’s voice cracks. “I was going to leave him anyway. What’s the difference if it’s sooner?”
Gao Bai tells them a story of a woman who loved a Vidyadhara man since she was a teenager over three hundred years ago. She does not say his name or any details, but she tells them how it became more and more clear that she was aging and he was not. She looked for ways to be with him forever and found herself approached by a disciple of the Abundance.
Uncommon for a believer of the Abundance to be so attached to a Vidyadhara. She attracted interest from many, eventually even the Emanator himself. If they could find a way to extend life without the threat of mara, without the overhang of any death like the Vidyadhara, it would help with Yaoshi’s goal.
So she convinced her lover to donate a few cells and tested the process on another disciple succumbing to mara.
“It was a failure.” Jingliu seems to find immense pleasure delivering the news, and Gao Bai can barely continue to tell them about the starskiffs orbiting in somewhat meaningless patterns to escape the view of the Divination Commission.
It would be weeks before their numbers reached the level appropriate enough of an attack, or at least that was what Gao Bai was told in regards to her eventual escape from the ship.
“They’ll know something is wrong if they don’t hear from her.” Jingliu sneers at the closed door of the cell, seeming to extract enough from the sobbing Gao Bai for now. “They may choose to expedite their attack plans, Jing Yuan.”
“We’ll need to preempt them. I’ll head to the Matrix of Prescience and see if the master diviner can make anything of this knowledge. Would either of you like to come with me?”
“No.” Dan Heng is too quick to reply, and he’s met with a rather wide stare from Jing Yuan. “I’m not feeling too well. I think it’s best for me to rest, especially if we are meant to fight soon.”
“I have other things to do.” Jingliu offers no other information and taps her foot, impatient for the lift to take them away from the prison.
Dan Heng chooses to walk the entire way back to the Seat of Divine Foresight, not really corroborating his need for rest, but neither Jingliu or Jing Yuan give him any cause for concern. He was only away from his room for a couple of hours, and the last thing he expected was to see Yingxing once again outside, eyes dark rimmed, and hair even messier than when Dan Heng had last seen him.
There are no Cloud Knights patrolling at this time of day, and Dan Heng approaches him slowly. “Hello.”
“Hi.” Yingxing swallows. His dark jacket looks wrinkled, buttons unevenly closed. “Wow, um, for a second I really thought…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. Can we speak inside?”
“You have something to tell me?”
Yingxing doesn’t respond but leans again on the door with his shoulder. He looks harried, but his body is more relaxed as he enters the room again and takes off his shoes. He sits by the tea table, long fingers stretching across the grains of the wood as he waits for Dan Heng to follow him to the floor.
He lowers his head. “I…I can’t help but think I owe you an apology.”
Apology? “You don’t.”
“I’ve accused you of usurping Dan Feng’s place, though based on my research, you had little choice in the matter.”
A spark shoots up Dan Heng’s spine. “So you found something? Something that explains why I’m here?”
“No.” Yingxing seems to scrape the word against his teeth. “But that means I must believe you. Something beyond the High Elder’s powers is responsible for this. The Divination Commission would be the most likely …ah you’ve thought of that too?”
Dan Heng can’t think his expression changed at all. The tips of his ears feel warm. “Yes, but the Matrix of Prescience—”
“I understand.” Yingxing interrupts him. “I…I won’t tell anyone either.”
His stomach rocks, “Why?” and he can see Yingxing jump from the reaction. “This is just…a change from how you were earlier.”
“Because you’re him.” Yingxing’s gaze is level, blue eyes clear and shining in the late afternoon sun. “You’ve changed, but you’re still him, aren’t you? I would do anything to help you.”
Anything. Anything. Dan Heng thinks he could promise the same.