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Tonight shouldn’t be a time for regrets, but Ashveil has never quite been able to outrun his demons - ever cognisant of the shadows nipping at his heels.
Around him Planarcadia is awash with light. Cheers and music flooding the central district’s streets as its citizens shake off the last of their malaise, the Trailblaze has once more triumphed over Destruction and wishpower overflows from every soul gathered. Above the Phantasmoon still shines, scarred and cracked but not shattered despite Asat Pramad’s best efforts.
At least for this moment, Pearl’s invitation has created a tableau of roaring Elation. The detective could ask for no better diversion as he ducks through the crowd and exits stage left, any trace of joviality slipping from his face to reveal the exhaustion buried beneath as he crosses into Dovebrook.
For once the streets are silent, but it does little to soothe the burden of centuries upon his weary, overwrought heart.
After all these years, are you still waiting for me?
It was supposed to be a few decades at most... A few decades of separation to fulfil the remainder of his oaths, to square away the last of La Mancha's dealings so that Ashveil could live the rest of his life as a man and not the legend he'd left behind.
But those few decades had long since passed. Time crawled on and Ashveil could do little more than yearn - watching as the years chipped away at his promises, pushing past each agony he endured to continue living. All for the sake of one day returning home.
As you'd deserve to; if there was even a home left for you at all.
With a faintly shuddering breath the stray thought was silenced, banished before the shadow in his arm could stir in response. But the truth of it laid heavy on his mind, just out of sight, a knife's edge tracing over well worn scars.
Would you even wish to see me now? Broken and-
A ripple at the edge of his awareness snapped Ashveil back to attention, self loathing shoved aside as the world rushed back into sharp focus, his footsteps halting just as abruptly.
Rather than back to the agency, the detective's path had led him to the river bank. And there, by the railing, gaze turned towards the Phantasmoon, was a figure ripped from Ashveil's most cherished memories.
The other man stood with a poise learned only through enduring countless crises, so disparate from the carefree manner Ashveil most clearly remembered, but it was unmistakably Jing Yuan - the shroud of the Lightning Lord's aura left no room for doubt.
(Your path seems full of unexpected encounters, Lead Hunter - Yao Guang's words haunted him now, the wicked curve of her smile a weapon in its own right)
He wasn't ready.
Fear seemed a laughable sentiment at a time like this - of course he wasn't ready. There was no amount of preparation Ashveil could possibly undertake that would ever prepare him, no explanation he could ever give that would stand up to the scrutiny of his own mind.
Seven centuries past and all that was left of him: the broken legged wolf.
Blood caked beneath every smile. Death’s rattles in every breath.
Unworthy, forever unworthy
...
But Jing Yuan is waiting for him, and Ashveil has kept him waiting for far too long.
The words fall from his lips unbidden
“700 years… and you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever known”
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Something in his heart cracks at those words, and Jing Yuan can't decide whether to laugh or cry.
He wants so badly to laugh - to laugh in pure jubilation because of course that’s what this ridiculous man would say as his opening (mending wounds so deep Jing Yuan had thought they'd burn until mara swallowed him whole); of course this would be what Yao Guang’s readings were referring to (her too bright eyes spelling out an unforeseen weal, opportunity entwinned with omen). But for every scar healed another five have cracked open, only a lifetime of military discipline stopping centuries of grief from spilling out in a cascade of tears.
I've missed you - more than I could ever describe
The terrible yet earnest flirting, the richness of his voice unfiltered by the lens of memory, the sense of safety from just being near the other man.
(The warm hand grasped in his own, the steady bulwark who sheltered him when he wasn't ready to face the world.)
Jing Yuan's heart wailed under the weight of missing years compounded by decades spent weathering burdens alone.
It's only when Ashveil joins him at the railing, that Jing Yuan can bear to turn and face him, drawing strength to face things without secrets - all too aware of the shattered depths within his golden irises, the distribution of tension across his throat betraying him equally under the gaze of someone who's long since learned all his tells. (Ashveil's eyes betray him in turn, the crease under his right eye deepening as it only does when he's analysing something; the rhythm of his breaths shallower as he sorts through his thoughts and a sharp but silent exhale through his nose before he gather's himself to speak.)
“...You kept it”
The words are said quietly, coloured by a faint awe and resounding pain.
It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to connect the dots as to what Ashveil is referring to - the jacket he favours whilst off duty would be unremarkable to anyone else, the fabric predominantly white and adorned with traditional Xianzhou patterns. By that description it could be any one of a dozen such items in his wardrobe, but those weren't the features that had caught the other man's attention. Rather, he recognised how the fabric lay slightly too loose around Jing Yuan's shoulders, the jacket's sleeves also falling a touch too long - how could he not, when the item originally belonged to him, gifted as a parting token to the one he loved.
“Of course I did” Jing Yuan responds, gentle but firm, “I never stopped waiting”
I never stopped loving you (I never stopped choosing to love you)
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The words are a whispered confession, Jing Yuan's smile turning heartbreakingly honest before crumbling completely, a shuddering gasp the only warning before the dam breaks entirely. Ashveil catches him before he can collapse, drawing him into a fierce embrace as Jing Yuan silently cries, finally letting go of all the jagged parts of his heart that have been so so tired.
“I’m here darling; I’m here and I’m not going anywhere” Ashveil soothes, “There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think of you, and there’s no part of me that I wouldn’t give to you if you asked for it”
I never stopped loving you either my heart, and I will continue to for as long you're willing to let me
(Later there will be more to say, matters to properly talk through and seven centuries worth of catching up to do - but for now, they have one another, and this moment of peace beneath the moonlight)