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"You know what I know, and you don't say what I don't say. What am I?"
— Baden Babbibalo Bala
There were little consequences to speak of, upon his release into the depths. The void of space declared its vastness, its incredulity at his indifference, and its respect for his mission. He knew he had to brandish the weapons he once used to as the High Elder. There was no other way; no other possibility forward.
The chains around his limbs did not wear him down. They were nothing compared to the weight of his duty, his plight towards the wrongdoing of his past life. Tugging and pulling him forward, the cloud knights stopped in front of a lone starskiff. The crowds surrounding them with peering eyes, barely contained hatred dripping out.
Dan Heng understood. He could not scorn himself anymore, for this was his state of being, thus others had to take over that burden for him. Perhaps because he remembered the loss so bitterly, his heart reciprocated in turn.
Because he knew - he was damned already.
"But no matter," he spoke to himself, "it is better like this."
The moment his feet touched the perforated metal of the starskiff, the chains unbuckled themselves, falling onto the ground. He was supposedly a free man. Still, his release did not relieve him. He rubbed his hands over his wrists, trying to get used to the feeling. Naturally, he failed.
"This is your final parting gift."
Jing Yuan was uncharacteristically soft compared to his imposing days. He remembered the days before his permanence. Dan Heng didn't say anything back, simply accepting the spear pressed into his hands. Even exiles received gifts, it seemed. Or this was just a gesture of a man unable to let go of the past.
They were similar in that regard.
One nod, a swift turn and the closing of doors marked his departure. And that was all there was to it.
Throughout his travails, he has never once felt despondent. There was no reason to feel most of anything after a singular incident involving an encounter. The dreams haunted him through the shadows of the eternal darkness of the galaxies. Most of the meagre equipment he has gotten from the Luofu has either broken down or has never been functional in the first place. Spots of black would come in flashes as he walked through the ship, as if he himself was the reason everything turned into a strobe light.
Change of pace was needed. If he were to continue to decimate the enemies whose whims he once appealed to, he would have to keep his body in shape. His mind could deteriorate more if he interacted meaningfully with conscious beings; yet to a certain degree it was a necessary risk to take. Even if he tried to escape the script his old... stranger, now, gave him.
Thus he landed on a seemingly isolated planet. It was alone in the way it was on the outskirts of a solar system, no moons to match, no natural or unnatural satellites to circle around it. Desolate in the way it barely had any life on it; snow and ice reigning supreme everywhere, the atmosphere thinner than he'd like it to be. He still decided to land. At least, whenever there was sun, it would be exceedingly bright out.
In the end, there was no real food to be found. Not a single plant or animal roamed the lands, running water non-existent due to the temperatures. No sign of any enemies either.
Trouble only kept coming after him; his wandering provoked the landscape into sending a hellish snowstorm his way. He scrambled to find a cave, or any other kind of shelter. He thought it might be good to meditate a little before he left this place, in search of a more fruitful expedition.
What he stumbled upon, however, was a girl encased in ice.
He did not have the equipment to free her. The chance of her still being alive was slim to none, either way. Even if he saved her, he had no space or resources to keep her alive. Wouldn't it be crueller to subject her to an almost certain death, upon her peaceful rest?
Long after the snowstorm passed, he realized that he had sat there and wondered what to do for longer than he usually meditates. Dan Heng stood up abruptly, as if brought out of the Fog of Thought itself, and left the small cave he found her in.
It took a while for him to come back. Somehow, he still found himself here, in front of this girl's lifeless body. He failed in his quest (again) to find food, or anything of the sort. But he had made up his mind regardless, and he will free her from her cage, even if she ends up dying in the process.
It is the only righteous way to move forward. The slim chance at bringing her to safety was worth the gamble. Perhaps this could even out his karma in some way.
Cloud-Piercer hacked and slashed at the ice. Its consistency so thick, it was impressive that Dan Heng had managed to make even the smallest of cracks. The sweat on the back of his neck started to frost over by the time he was able to chip away a part of the ice. Heartbeat like a war drum in his ears, he ended up making an opening. Big enough to carefully reach out and pull her out of there.
Awkwardly, not knowing where to put his hands, he gently grabbed her arms, stretching them out first over his own shoulders. It did not help she was naked. He might have some spare clothes of his in the starskiff. Prying her figure away from the cold was difficult; he tried to hurry in case she was still alive. Otherwise he'd need to find a way to bury her on this barren planet, devoid of any life. He thought about whether a burial would be the correct word. Perhaps it was better to put her situation as such: she wasn't dead, for she had never been alive in the first place. He'd simply be returning her to a more suitable resting place.
Dan Heng pulled her out of her prison, and managed to slump down with her onto the snow underneath. Shivering from the strenuous activity, he held her a little closer, closing his eyes and clutching at her sides, before he would carry her out of here and into the starskiff. He was not dressed for this. He barely possessed the strength for breaking her out. It need not matter for now, it was imperative to first get her to safety. He mentally prepped himself for the worst outcome.
And then, he looked into the most beautiful sky he has ever seen.
"Oh, ow - that's hot."
"Careful."
Dan Heng set down his only other cup on his makeshift table. There was barely any space to put anything; the starskiff was meant for one person only, anyway, so he's been using it as minimalistically as possible.
The girl, however, now wearing all the spares he had left in clothing, was surprisingly lively. For someone who had been trapped in a layer of ice so thick, she'd been bouncing around everywhere, curious to see the bleakness of his ship. It was strange. Even if she had never seen one of these before, they weren't anything to write home about. It was grey, and dark, and beyond all of that, breaking down at the seams. Her excited giggles and gasps as she sniffed out her environment was something he could not understand.
"Aha, thank you." A bashful smile blossomed across her face.
It was strange, indeed.
He noticed her picking at her cuticles for a little while sitting on his bed, unsure of what to say, or seemingly uncertain of the situation she found herself in. What does one say in these circumstances? She seemed to ask with her body language. When two strangers who are unsure of the conventions meet?
A pause between whether or not to attempt to get to know each other or to keep it distanced arose. Something he wasn't sure would be good for the other person in question. Did it matter who he was now, when he was plagued by the results of whom he used to be? Would it even be beneficial to get to know the carcass of himself, when they were to part in the near future?
"Uhm, I didn't ask for your name, uhhh, sir?"
"...Dan Heng. No sir required." He coughed to adjust his tone. "What's yours?"
Her laugh was askew, starting loud, and then sinking more into inaudibility.
"Hah, I, uh, don't have one."
"You don't have a name?"
"Or, well, better said, I can't remember, y'know? Alongside everything else."
"You can't remember?"
"Yes." She inhaled somewhat sharply. "Is that bad?"
"Oh, no. Not at all."
He wasn't surprised. Of course she wouldn't remember where or who she was immediately; it might take some time to shake off the initial shock of being trapped within ice for Aeons know how long.
Rubbing his wrists, he thought about the practicality of her staying with him. His food resources were already low, which meant he did not eat on the bad days, and tried to conserve on the good ones. There was not enough place for both of them to sleep separately at the same time; and he assumed that she did not know how to drive a starskiff so they could take shifts. It took him months to figure out with just the manual he has been given, even with his memories of being on different starskiffs before fresh in his mind.
Not to mention that this wasn't the cleanest place, with no showers or pipes or cleaning supplies-
"Sorry, Dan Heng?"
"Yes?"
"Do you know what year it is? Maybe? Or like what time in general?"
"Ah, I... I don't have a calendar or clock here." It was far more embarrassing than necessary to admit that. "But it should be around March, somewhere, in the year 3XXXX."
"I see..."
She put her hands on her face, leaning forward on her knees. Staring into the surface of the boiled water in her cup. It was truly impressive how he had the forethought to acquire more than just one of every item he needed, just in case. He could survive with barebones supplies, simply hunting down his enemies and doing anonymous bounty hunter work as little as possible on the side. It wasn't pretty, but it was what kept him afloat. It was the only excess he was willing to accept for himself.
Softly sighing, he stood up, thinking of an excuse to go check on the (parked, mind you) starskiff. Before he could say anything, however, the girl exclaimed loudly:
"March! That'll be my name. For now, I mean. March."
He didn't know what the polite expression to put on was, but he tried to seem friendly enough.
"Nice to meet you, March."
He shook the blood off of the blade of his spear with ease. The enemies that he had slain moments before laid limp across the ground, scattered intestines and flesh surrounding them. The ground soaked up the blood as a bad rag, with small puddles forming. His clothes would need to be cleaned, which wouldn't be a problem normally, but now...
He had a companion to think about. One who watched his acts of violence in silence, in the only spare clothes he had. March insisted that she would bear witness to the lives he took, given otherwise she would "die of boredom", so to speak. The monotone of the starskiff was its own challenge to the psyche, but Dan Heng assumed it would more comfortable than disposing of bodies. He did try to explain that this job wasn't just a capture and release.
After sleeping a night, they immediately headed towards the IPC Headquarters that usually allowed him to earn money on the side. March needed clothes, regardless of whether she stayed with him, and well, he was low on money at the moment. Some employees confused him for a Galaxy Ranger a few times, but usually they were all quite cordial nonetheless. By far the most did not care what kind of person he was, or for who he worked for. The bounty hunting was done by outsourced workers (like him), or very low ranking IPC employees. It was one of the only legitimate and flexible enough gigs to make enough money to eat. He also liked that nobody wanted to ask too many questions.
He might've been presumptuous yesterday when they had their first conversation, assuming that she'd want to bank on his default hospitality. The work he did wasn't reassuring. The skills necessary for it were ones of destruction, something that corrupts the mind and body. She slept on his rickety bed, simply so she wouldn't have to sleep on a chair, because there wasn't enough space to sleep on the floor comfortably. Not everybody is cut out for such a self-abnegating path that he had been forced to choose. He had all other paths close down on him, before he could get to them. He wondered whether this kind of life would truly be beneficial to her.
He wouldn't choose for her, not in a million years. But he was of the opinion that he was not the best option to make when it came down to companions.
Picking up a case of memory bubbles that these bandits had stolen from the IPC in their space craft, Dan Heng finally dared to turn around to look at her.
March's expression was a little empty. Her eyes having lost their spark, even if the colours were bright enough to light up the sky with it. He'd say that she was lost in contemplation, if he saw any kind of action or emotion behind those eyes. He worried that he may have deeply traumatized her on the very first day of their coexistence together.
He had to ask. "Aren't you scared?"
"Well..."
He expected her to lie to him, at least a little. If only to save face or because she was truly intimidated by him. But the way she shuffled with her feet while soothing herself in a hug made her seem sheepish, rather than petrified.
"I think anything would scare me right now, don't you? At least with you, I know that you won't hide anything from me that I need to know."
He agreed, to a certain degree. It depended on what she considered that what she needed to know. But he would never purposefully mislead her; especially given her vulnerable position. Dan Heng was surprised however - why would she completely entrust her safety to him?
His puzzled face made March giggle, for some reason.
"If I had a camera, I'd take a picture of you right now!"
The blood stains would ruin any photo. "I doubt my face is worthy of that."
"Don't worry; you're handsome enough." She patted his shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Now, let's go and get those supplies!"
"Whatever you say." He mumbled behind his hand, suppressing the urge to smile.
At the end of the job, she convinced him to buy new supplies for both of them with the bounty. It would've been a lie if he had said that he hated the company.
The tremors did not leave his body, even after minutes within waking up. Drenched in a sweat that clamped and clogged his very pores, he saw the world come to a stop. Shaky breaths; in and out, in and out. He was alive. He remembered, but he was still alive, and being able to think like this meant he has not yet succumbed to the mara. He was still safe. March was still safe.
"...Dan Heng?"
Her voice was hushed, like a murmur in the wind, dying among the ventilators' buzzing. Her frame was barely visible in the darkness that protruded from every corner. Yet, she still stood, ever firm, ever delicately, next to his bed, clutching onto his hand. He did not notice it before this moment.
Shame flushed his senses clean; unable to face her, ever thankful for the dark. She tightened her grip on his hand in response. The way it just slightly grazed his wrists made him strangely aware of her presence. Before she could call out once more, he interrupted her.
"Why aren't you sleeping? It's late."
Somehow, that came out more vulnerable than he wanted it to. It had to have been the trembling he couldn't seem to shake, even when she was holding his hand.
"...You were screaming in your sleep. I got worried."
"Ah. I apologize for disturbing you, I..." He ran a hand through his damp hair. "I'll make sure to keep that in mind."
Neither of them were talkative. Not when it came to moments where the quiet overpowered their will, when their hearts beat out of their chests for a secret, and a single step in the wrong direction may be fatal for them. Their future. Why was he even thinking of that, when they haven't been travelling together for that long anyway?
She should be able to leave at any moment. He had to make sure that she was never burdened by his presence, never burdened by the life he kept hidden from her. Even if she was here for now, her journey was separate from his. They need not make it more of an entangled mess than it already was.
Dan Heng tried to release her hand, but March stubbornly held on. No matter his control of water, he couldn't fight against ice.
"Dan Heng."
"...Yes?"
"Tell me."
"What do you wish to know?"
Even in the dark, he could imagine the face of disbelief mixed with a little sarcasm. It almost made him chuckle; tremors would be tremors, regardless of their origins.
"Everything." She sighed a little, before the seriousness came back in her tone. "...About your dream, I mean. Tell me."
He could taste the desperation within his exhale. The depth of his breath did nothing to stop the anxiety from clawing its way into his throat. Her grip was still as resolute as ever, and he supposed if she were to stay for a longer time, she would have to know the reasons for her own duty, if it ever came down to it.
"I... I have a condition."
She patiently waited until he sorted his thoughts out.
"It's hard to explain, but, the gist of it is that... I will succumb to a growing madness within me, because of all the things I've gone through."
That should be enough. He would make sure she would never have to embark on a cycle of healing and grief because of him. He can hold on for long enough, until she has found her way in the universe. Maybe it was foolish to think that she would not be able to handle the burden, given she has been trapped in her ice for Aeons know how long. But he'd rather look the fool than give her a responsibility that bleak.
"And those things, uhm, appear in your dreams?"
"...Sometimes."
"Were you... are you..." She drew out her syllables, hesitant to say anything. "Did you dream about those things tonight?"
Dan Heng squeezed her hand back a little, despite the electric charge that went between them. "Truthfully, I do not remember. It might be best not to."
Slowly, in the way that only late nights entrenched in nothingness can, she got on her knees, holding his hand with both of hers.
"...Maybe remembering is the way forward?"
He did not know how to answer. He simply let her hold his hand until his heartrate stopped rising, ebbing and flowing between different states of questioning. He did not know whether it would be useful to move forward whatsoever.
Yet maybe... the only way was forward.
Between their stops from their missions together, they visited many planets. He started teaching her how to wield a weapon, among other things that she may have forgotten alongside herself. She still didn't remember anything about herself, no matter what they tried. Thus, March stuck around, together with her name. Missions went swimmingly, and she got increasingly more competent throughout it all. The money kept piling up in a sense, and for the first time in this life, Dan Heng had savings to speak of. Savings that weren't just emergency funds, or leftovers from the last commission he did. Savings that actually were ready to be spent on some kind of leisure, rather than stored inside a small safe in the ship. He didn't exactly know what to do with them. There were so many possibilities that it basically trickled into none.
It was somewhat overwhelming at times. The seas of time opened before him, in a way that they had not done before. Onward, beyond his death, beyond his minimal repentance, beyond everything that held him chained down in his past. Whether he was the High Elder or not, whether he was able to ever fulfil such a duty ever again, whether he should even try and be reborn again, to lose all of the memories he had, to get treatment which he previously refused, because he saw no point in prolonging an existence such as his.
Docked at one of the warehouse planets for the IPC, they originally were here to stock up on more supplies. He sat on the control panel chair and counted all the space ships passing by. One by one by one, they all added up into a week - no, a whole year worth of shipments and gas. One by one, they became a constant stream of something ineffable, a barebones string holding him together, rather than chaining him. One knock was heard at the entrance against the hull.
"Come in."
"Hey!" It was her voice again. "Guess what I just found out?"
"Hmm..."
He wondered why it was easy to play along with her now. Whether this was a change within him, or simply a change between them as people. Perhaps she figured out how to speak with him better. Maybe they got used to each other's way of communicating; or it was simply them creating an entirely new language to speak with, shared only between the two of them. He did not understand, and it made his chest contract with a background buzz of anxiety.
"It might be something to do with that shopping district that they recently built here?"
"Ding ding ding!" She clapped her hands in contagious excitement. "They have an aquarium, Dan Heng! We HAVE to go and see all the fishies. This might be our only chance!"
Dan Heng's mind lingered at the last part. It's not like they couldn't come back, if they travelled together long enough. There was nothing set in stone that they were going to miss; and yet, in his mind, the permanence of his being lessened enough to want to indulge her. It did not matter in the grand scheme of things, but it mattered to her. It mattered to one single person, ultimately not even a speck of dust when it came down to it, and that was enough. That was enough to make it worthwhile.
"Let's go."
"Really?! Oh my god, we have to get some bags, some supplies, souvenirs! And tickets! And-"
He stood up and patted her head. "We'll do it all, don't worry."
The way her cheeks tinted pink played over in his mind that entire day.
As they were leaving the aquarium, Dan Heng noticed the lonely stare in her eyes. It arose the moment they walked through the sliding doors and in the open air again. Inside, she was enamoured by the jellyfish that floated around gracefully. She chatted with him about them, he offered various fun facts concerning them in return. She jokingly said he was like an encyclopaedia. That comment nursed something inside him, convincing him to buy both of them matching notebooks when she wasn't looking. But the small surprise waiting in his pocket did not trump the heaviness of the atmosphere.
He did not know what to do about it, given he has always known her as someone positive. Someone who, despite all odds and difficulties thrown her way, always persevered. In every moment of weakness she somehow never allowed herself to show it on her face. He knew, because he watched March go through cycles where she sat there, like he would, staring out of the only window in the starskiff. The universe seemed to beckon her, but neither of them knew where to.
Her listlessness only made him restless. He looked around to try and find a nice and scenic spot, but outside of the shops there were no benches or sights to look at. No parks to walk through, nothing to quell the impending doom he felt approaching from his stomach. Dan Heng tried not to flit around, so she would not notice, but she had a knack for reading him by now.
"I'm okay, Dan Heng."
"You... don't seem it."
Her laugh sounded helpless. "Maybe."
"If you want to, you could tell me about it?" He rubbed his wrists. "If you'd prefer, I won't ask you about it anymore."
Everybody had their secrets. He knew that he still kept many from her, himself. Simply because he had been there for the entirety of the period she remembers, didn't give him the right to pry into her emotions. He was simply... concerned. Maybe it was his conduct that has upset her. He didn't want to be the cause of her distress. If he was, then he might consider encouraging her to leave him. Dan Heng already burdened her with too much.
"...Okay." She whispered it into her hands, as a warm breath of air that should warm her up from the cold. "Let's go home, alright?"
"Alright."
It was somewhat poignant to call his small ship that. The starskiff had been with him for a few years now, and while it had always been his resting place, his way of transport, and the centre of his trail for the entirety of it, it had never quite reached the title of "home" before March. He spent the entire walk back thinking about what to say to her, as well as trying to control the rising lump in his throat.
She'd open the door and beeline towards her little corner. The only chair, with the makeshift table, pushed against the back of the ship. There she delicately put the small jellyfish plushie they got at the aquarium, in the middle of all other small trinkets that served as souvenirs. Remnants of tickets for entry or parking on different planets, that she begged him not to throw out, taped together into a long garland around the table, sugar packets from different coffee places they went to, alongside a few keychains and magnets she was able to buy from their savings recently. He felt a pang of guilt eat at him for being unable to provide a better or bigger space, or the fact that he had not thought of buying her a notebook until today (he would've gone for a camera, but those were too expensive to cover even with his new savings).
Maybe that is why she was upset; the inability to live in decent stability, always coming and going. He supposed it made sense for her to hate the life of an exile - one that wasn't forced upon her but she was still condemned to.
"Y'know..."
He closed the door of the starskiff for some privacy. The air itself seemed to freeze. Suddenly, he was hit with a sight that couldn't help but leave him breathless. Tears in her eyes, pooling like small glistening gemstones, becoming pearls of grief that sunk to the ground along her cheeks. Dan Heng couldn't move, continuing to stare at her. He never cried himself, so he didn't know what one was supposed to do in order to comfort someone who was.
March's voice broke. "I'm kinda... losing faith that we'll find anything about my past. Heh, I never really expected anything, to be honest, even when I decided I would join you. But recently...
"I really feel like - I don't know. I don't want to bother you; I don't want to make you keep looking after me and focusing so much of your time in trying to keep us both afloat. Y'know? I wish I knew where I came from, so I could feel less like I'm leaching off of you, and... like... " She gestured wildly in the air. "Everything! Everything you do is tied into you having something you're connected to. This is your ship, from your home planet, given to you, specifically, by your people. You have a people in general, Dan Heng. You know who you are."
"What do you mean?" He looked at her, still taken aback by her outburst. Did she keep it bottled up all this time? "I never once thought you were lesser."
"But!" A sob rippled through the small space. "I... I don't have anything at all. I'm nobody."
She covered her face with her hands, trying to muffle her cries. Dan Heng, hesitant but resolute, softly walked over to her. His chest swarmed with pain he could not explain, thoughts he could barely express, and a willpower that could rival all the fear behind every step. His hands gently cupped hers, simply holding them without trying to pry them away. She leaned into his touch, sinking into his arms; him crouching to catch her. He'd rub her back with circular motions, making sure not to press too hard, until the moment she would let go. She clutched at his back, fistfuls of his jacket in her grip, and wept with her entire body. They stayed in that embrace long enough for Dan Heng's knees to strain and his shirt to be stained with her tears.
"I just..." she sniffed into his shoulder, "I want to be someone to, well, anyone. I don't want to live as a stranger to even myself."
"You are someone to me." He said it without thinking. "You're not a stranger. You're March."
"Really?"
He didn't know she could sound so hopeful and heartbroken all at once. "Yes."
March lifted her head from the crook of his neck. Her eyes met his, and in a dizzying moment of reality, he became aware of their closeness. He almost instinctually wanted to run away, but he was anchored to that very spot, as her expression seemed to beg him to. Don't go, her eyes pleaded, don't leave me here alone.
After a while of just looking into his eyes, she seemed to affirm something that she did not speak aloud. A quivering smile played on her lips. He caught himself lingering on them with his eyes. Would she really be okay now? Was this enough?
"Thank you."
"It's nothing."
He jumped a little at her wrapping her arms around his head, pressing him into her. She buried her face into his hair, as if finding a secret hiding spot within it, unwilling to show it to him. Being so close to her meant he could hear her heartbeat, loudly resonating in his ears. Everything inside him burned, as his body froze to everything. Something stirred from deep within, needling at his lungs, stinging his chest like a myriad of thorns.
If it was necessary, he would indulge her like this every day. For the first time, he wished he was able to make more memories to remember.
He wondered when the symptoms started getting worse and worse by the day. His staring off into the distance, unreachable by anyone, even March at times. His chest burned, sometimes so badly that he felt the need to hunch over. Become one with the ground, do not let it nurse you, become one in mind, body and soul, become a singular entity with only one past, only one present, only one future.
If everything is determined, and his fate's set, then there was no point in daydreaming about happier days to be spent under the blue skies. March grew more concerned by the day. She understood he had a condition, but not what to do with said information. It was unfair of him to keep her in the dark for this long. She trusted him too much, believed in his words too much - and has proven herself to be loyally at his side too much for him to deny her the choice of this responsibility.
Time was a limited resource that he unnaturally had an eternity of. Every life and past reincarnation he lived through became meaningless as soon as he was reborn. And still... and still he was withering at the knowledge of the past. He was forever faced with a wall he could not penetrate, a wall he could not break or leave cracks and groves in. There was no repentance, no forgiveness to be found when faced with it. At its essence, the wall had a chain, and it kept him where he needed to be. The isolation of a dark chamber, soft dripping of leaking ceilings against the floor. A single state of mind; no beginning and no end. She said the only way was forward. But how can it be forward when every forward step is automatically a step into oblivion? When every future ends in a cycle of ignorance and debt?
When there is no forward, but rather, a lone circle drawn with his blood.
The eternal night dawned upon them, the stars so far away within the vacuum of the cosmos. Another mission they did had been completed. It left Dan Heng weary, so much so that he had let March take off and fly the starskiff herself. They recently fixed the lights in the back of the ship, where his shadow used to roam. He turned it off, however, because it was stinging his eyes. Somehow becoming one with the dark was easier than trying to handle light.
Laying on his bed, he stared at the ceiling. The only thing allowing him to see anything were the lit up controls of the starskiff. The open area allowing for March to see where she was going, and him to be able the outlines of her figure. He watched and listened to all of the soft clicks of various buttons, ones he knew so well. He rubbed his wrists.
"I..."
She turned her head back for a second, her eyes betraying her worry. "You?"
"I think I should tell you... about me."
March nodded. "Should I come sit with you?"
He considered it for a second. "Alright."
She put the starskiff on autopilot. He told her their next destination before they boarded, before he slumped back into his corner, trying to recover from something with no cure. Dan Heng was exhausted before she came to sit on the edge of the bed, yet the moment she sat down, everything suddenly weighed on him even more.
"Dan Heng... are you alright?"
He did not know. He simply shook his head, a lifeless movement that just barely showed he was alive. She saw him in his entirety, the lack of energy, the lack of sleep, the lack of any proper empathy because of his draconic powers that he inherited from his past life. She saw his lacking, his pathetic existence in this universe, and still decided to choose him to be her journey's companion. He did not understand, like he did not understand with many things surrounding her.
March laid down next to him, without him realizing it. They were a hair's breath removed from each other, their faces within sight. He could count each individual eyelash on her eyes, as she could gaze into his despondent form. She searched for something else within him, and when she found nothing, she held his hands in hers. The way you would cradle something cherished towards your chest, she held his hands.
Dan Heng mustered all his strength to whisper: "Do you remember when I explained to you what Vidyadhara are?"
"Long's Scions?"
"Yes."
"I do."
"Good." He took a deep breath, which ended up fanning back into his face. "I... am a Vidyadhara. One of them."
March didn't seem surprised. At most, a little confused. She was smart enough to figure out he wasn't human.
"That doesn't scare you?"
She chuckled a little, the sound reverberating in his mind for a few seconds too long. "Why would it, silly? It's not like you suddenly changed into one. You are still Dan Heng."
"Okay." It wasn't over, and yet a wave of slight relief washed over him. "The Vidyadhara go through cycles of rebirth, or molting. When they are reborn, by far most do not remember their past lives."
She hummed in agreement, showing she was still listening. Somehow, that clawed at his chest, in ways so intense he did not remember the last time it was this painful.
"I remember everything. The battles, the sins I committed, the friendships I forsook. I may not have been him, and I may not be him anymore, but I remember his crimes as if they were my own."
His mind flashed through multiple scenes. From the days in the shackling prison, to his exile, to his release, to the confrontation with Yingxing... He went by Blade now, didn't he?
"Does that not indicate that I am him to some degree? That I cannot outrun him, for I cannot allow myself to forget? That we share the same fate?"
Dan Heng heaved. The war happening within his chest forced him to focus on the hands on his wrists. Her grip tightened around his arms, as if she was instructing him how to pray to his own Aeon.
"That's not all, is it?"
"My condition... it's mara. Vidyadhara usually don't get it unless they have artificially been infected, because of the rebirth cycle. We don't carry our memories with us. But because..." He curled up as much as possible, the pain unbearable. "But because I remember... I contracted it."
All the conversations about the Xianzhou he had with her in passing echoed in his chest again. He pretended he wasn't from there, that he wasn't exiled, but still told her about anything she would be curious about. She knew. It was finally out, the most important parts, at least. He had pretended to be an outsider, a wanderer from nowhere important, for so long, he forgot what it was like to identify yourself to someone.
"If you keep those memories... what happens to you?"
He breathed out. "Hah... madness, most likely. Either that, or death."
The moment he spoke the words aloud, he regretted it. They were true, as he always aimed them to be. But the deafening silence afterwards, as March tried to process his burden, was almost enough to make him wince out of empathy. He did not realize how much he has become a part of her, and she a part of him, in return, before it was too late.
"March, I beg of you, that if I ever fail to keep myself sane, if the five decays eat away at me-"
"Stop. Please." Her voice was weak. "I know what you want to say."
That was only natural, wasn't it? The way she could read his intentions from just one look at him, because that was a result of how much time they spent together in the span of a few months. It was only natural that his heart - weary, both old and young, troubled to its core - would release its outer layer, like the shedding of past scales, when it came to her. It had to be, for if it wasn't... well, then, all of his regrets would drown him. No air would enter his lungs, no bright skies would greet him when he awoke.
There would only be the golden leaves of the mara, claiming him as it did his old friend.
Archiving was something that by definition went against his previous way of life. Noting down things in order to remember, in order to be prepared for the future. In order to ordain fate yourself, to fight the helplessness that came with the unknown, the wave after wave of misfortune and misery. Watching the skies for the sheer purpose of prediction, even when it failed.
He never tried to forget, but he wasn't keen on remembering either. Not after his first encounter with real death, after departing from the Luofu. A death that didn't have the possibility of a rebirth, a death that would satisfy all parties, but would end the hunt. A death to end all potential futures, a death to bury all pains that came before, but would end the suffering that was indebted.
Archiving was something that by definition went against his previous way of life. It was an interest that never had the possibility to blossom before her. Unfolding little by little, a flower in his chest, a heartbreak waiting to happen. It was food for the soul, yet also its only poison. He started by remembering his own life, only this one, and writing it down so it would be written.
He never tried to forget, but he wasn't keen on remembering either. His first fight against someone he hadn't seen in more than decades. The man looked too young to be as old as he was, but Dan Heng knew it was true by the swing of his sword, the clash of their weapons, the clanging ritual bells in the back of his mind. He fought if only to try and ask for some forgiveness, to try and escape a fate he knew was overdue. He did not know the ways of the hunt back then. He did not realize how one must be still when facing a gale. In order to feel every bit of wind against you, in order to see what lies hidden in its nature. Dan Heng found out, it was a deception that would flow through his veins forever. "May you never meet your true enemy; that is all I wish upon you. For your death will be one filled with pain much greater than my eternal suffering, even if I cannot administer it."
Archiving was something that by definition went against his previous way of life. Personal in ways he was not able to say, not able to explain to the girl that started it all. He hid all of his notes under his bedsheets, a self-preservation technique he had undoubtedly stolen from the IPC. Never be honest with yourself, so that nobody will ever see the roots that have taken shape within you, so that the torrential Rain of Sensation would not reach you. Whatever you remember, may it only serve as a reminder to never repeat those same mistakes, to never experience what you have again, and to never subject a similar fate onto someone else.
He never tried to forget, but he wasn't keen on remembering either. Remembering as an act was like playing into the enemies' hands. The memoria with which the injection was made; the same one that cursed this life of his for good, staining it with past sins. The Remembrance was his enemy, the true mastermind behind every action that he was forced into taking. His existence was tied into it, a futile fight against the reign of the uncontrollable. He would never win against it, which is why he never tried. Dan Heng subjected himself to the stoicism that kept him going, underlined with a larger sense of dread. "I tell you, Dan Feng's reincarnation, that you will die of love, rather than hate. Your curtain call will be stained with blood and illness and there will be no going back anymore."
He knew from the start that the entrance to this place was shady. The round door, with spinning metal through it, as if it was racing itself to go from the end to the beginning of a circle, was the first sign. The second sign, was the way every single person they came across was wearing masks, obscuring their face. It was a sign of dishonesty, of not willing to place trust in any witnesses. A sign of not wanting to have any witnesses, in the first place.
The third, was possibly, the obnoxiously red colour scheme. He never quite understood it, this connection to celebration, as if red wasn't the colour of blood. Perhaps he was simply not one for festivities in the first place.
The party was held on one of the planets in the Viropa star system, a land where the colours of blue and purple were gone for ages. He had to admit, that since he started with his databank archiving upon insistence of March (it could be useful for both of them), he has been reading more entries of other people who allowed him to do smaller jobs for their intel. One of which was about this planet, and this particular star system, and all the rumours surrounding it.
He initially did not believe it. But standing here, it was unfortunately true; he almost forgot the way blue and purple were supposed to look like. He mourned the loss of half of companion's eye colour, one he has begun to associate with comfort.
Reaching for her, he softly grasped her shoulder, peering into her lit up face.
"Are you sure this is the place you want to settle on? I'm sure there are informants in other areas; this place... doesn't seem safe."
Her pout made his anxiety loosen. "C'mon, Dan Heng! We've already looked at every source of information we had; this might be our shot at finding something out!"
"I simply worry for-"
"For our safety, I know, I know. But think about it!" She twirled around with her arms wide open, somehow not standing out among the crowd. "This is a once in an Amber Era event! There have to be people in attendance who would know about me."
In the small silence that lingered between them afterwards, Dan Heng could imagine her whispering something, anything to him. For some reason, that silence alone made his vigilance towards her plight surge up in his chest. The tightening of his heart was something he wasn't unfamiliar with around her, yet it made a difference now all the same.
"Alright. But promise me you won't leave my side."
"Aye aye captain!"
He did not think that that might've been the last time he would see her with a smile on her face, and have been able to smile back.
The event was even worse than he worried it would be. After the, frankly, insanity inducing speech made by one of the attendants, he and March set off to sniff out information. He had low hopes of finding anything reliable here, but he understood that March herself possibly could have come from a place like this. Origins were never fully indicative of what kind of person came out. Perhaps this was the only place where they would be able to find reliable information. However, not long after he had wanted to officially declare this a dead end, he noticed she was not at his side anymore.
His mind was doing overtime, running laps around the circumference of his skull. He could not find her. The crowds were thick, suffocating him by the nature of the sea of red his eyes simply glazed over. He ran and pushed and downright shoved people aside, which was all met with jeering or maniacal laughter. The exaggerated masks seemed to swallow him whole, proving him to be powerless when presented on a platter to elation.
Just when he was about to pull his weapon out in desperation, he heard her.
"Dan Heng!" She waved at him, innocently, as if he didn't lose his mind over her absence. "Over here!"
"March!"
His movement dragged, as if the camera that was filming them got stuck on certain frames, deciding that the picture was too fast-paced. Dan Heng witnessed every mask's mouth opening, as if to mock him for ever believing in anything. The red on the edges would stain his peripheral vision, streaks painted in blood, mixed with water for better consistency. The black holes swirling around inside would pull at him, stretching his permanence into such a moment.
She was standing next to a man with a green suit. He was very noticeable, yet at the same time unnoticeable. He blended into the red seamlessly. Dan Heng wondered if he had suddenly become colour blind due to the nature of this planet. Behind them was the echo of a woman in pigtails, one he just briefly remembered running into during the speech. Her fox-like mask reminded him of days he'd rather forget, days when he saw the same features in a colour he couldn't see now.
He rushed to March, his hands naturally clasping her arms, as he tried to calm himself enough to not be rash.
"Why did you leave my side?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." Her face contorted into a grimace of guilt. "I wasn't thinking. But these two said they recognized me; they know who I am."
Dan Hengs eyes darted back between the two. "I don't trust them."
"They haven't done anything wrong! Plus, they have proof that it's really me, rather than just anyone."
March pointed to a memory bubble in the man's hands.
"You can look into it yourself, if you'd like. We have an automaton here that allows you to see." The man himself, also wearing a green mask alongside his quite angular suit, nodded to a mechanism that was reminiscent of a white cloud.
He did not trust any of it. Why would these people have a memory bubble? Is it possible to tamper with memory bubbles? What did they want in return?
And if all of what he saw in the bubble was to be true and trusted, what would happen to them?
Dan Heng had a million questions, but was unable to voice any. March looked at him with a pleading look, because this is what they came for. Collecting the information from strangers who offered it so willingly was suspicious, but it was the only way to get a foot in the door to the truth. The real work will begin after this, she'd say with her gaze, but before it can begin, we have to hear them out.
So, he nodded, allowing himself to look into it first.
The man put the memory bubble into the cloud. The small automaton would spin around its axis, faster and faster, until the entire venue disappeared for him. All the red sunk into an icy blue, one he had almost forgotten the look of. He observed something akin to the beginning of the cosmos; the start of every memory was time, its witness the conscious. He just vaguely remembers the feeling of divinity, during the time he served one. But this time... the divinity did not nestle within his chest as if it had found a peaceful resting place. The ice crystals on March's body just started to form, while the Remembrance continued to preserve her. "And you, my Child... you shall learn that the past is just an illusion."
Without warning, his field of vision was plunged into red again. He stepped away shakily, but she didn't notice as she went right up to view it herself.
Her excitement was palpable; the interested leaning, her small gasps, the giggles of relief and happiness she exuded in her entirety while watching. March has never looked this settled with any of her many theories before. He didn't know if she was jumping to conclusions on her own, or if something within her deeply resonated with what was shown. The man clad in green pressed a thick book into her hands, his voice not registering in Dan Heng's mind anymore.
The wall that he thought he had overcome; the chains that writhed around his limbs, crushing him together while simultaneously pulling him apart; the isolation chamber where only the leakage of barebones water came through. It all came rushing back, withering whatever had grown in him to nothing. Labouredly breathing through it all, a placating polite neutral expression on his face, he managed to never let either March or the man know about the truth.
That he could never witness that future he saw with her, for there was no forgiveness to be found in him for what she appeared to be, at the very end of it all.
Red and gold clouded his senses. Moonlight shone through a small window, small enough to pretend the light was escaping his palms. The rooms they rented near the event venue of last night were perfectly sized. Not a single thing was out of place. And still, the vertigo caught up to him again, forcing him to cough out more of what he already did. It looked like... golden leaves...
Ah... it is here. It is here and this is the end for me.
His coughing fits did not end throughout the entire night, lasting until morning. When March found him, he was limply clutching with bloodied hands at his wrists, a deformed prayer to an Aeon that would not be able to listen. He did not scream once; silence enshrouding him in sanctity, mourning his loss, mourning his existence.
"Dan Heng-!"
She would run towards him, sinking to her knees mid-run, barely stopping in time before reaching him. Her eyes would be frozen between crying and weeping, no tears leaving them, unable to make the scene even more tragic.
"Dan Heng..." she whispered.
She would put her hand underneath his head, trying to tilt his gaze up, to have him meet hers, to see him, to reassure herself it was all just a bad dream.
"March..." he croaked out, his voice gone from the coughing, "when... when the mara takes over, I beg of you... kill me."
"No!"
His hands reached up to wipe her tears, instead leaving streaks of red underneath her eyes.
"Please..."
"I..." She leaned her forehead against his in anguish. "I can't. Dan Heng, please, wait. I'm gonna try those memoria techniques; I can still-!"
"No... March... Li-" He broke out into another coughing fit, colouring her robe red and gold as well. "Listen to me... You have to..."
Her breaths were uneven and shaky. Her sight blurred, watching him as if he was painted with watercolours, pretending that everything can still be fixed. She forcefully took deeper breaths, trying to both calm herself down and breathe him in somehow, if at all possible. Trembling fingers clenched around his skin, the back of his neck and his hand.
"I'm sorry. I can still save you. Please wait for me."
For some reason, she was beautiful. Her dishevelled state, her pink hair almost glowing in the light, the intensity of her expression. He felt her warmth permeate through his clothes, even though she was usually colder than him. He understood his time was up, and that she was wasting hers trying. But what else could he do, except accepting this outcome? This fate that was put into his hands through a matter of encounters? Did he even want to stop her?
Possibly... he was touched, and his chest burned in agony because of it.
Because of the kaleidoscope of colours that she donned, his last thought was traitorous through and through. She would've looked just as beautiful in wedding robes.
"To stop questioning is to ask pouring rain to relinquish its faith in the glittering stars. Open yourself to the roaring oceans of metaphors, and you will find truth awaits, hiding at the end of the night horizon, in the swirling lilied storm of a bygone age."
— Sharon Leighton, Galactic Laureate Poet