#〚 ⠀★ ⠀〛 — 𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒙𝒊𝒏𝒈 - 𝒊𝒄

[strdstd-m]

[ @dutybcrne ― ★ ]

Evenings in Chenyu Vale were... nice. Peaceful, probably the most peace he'd felt in the entirety of his time in Teyvat. So much, so much suffering he'd endured to get here. Like finally leaving the chill of winter to enter the warmth of spring. And with that return to warmth, brought the return of Lumine into his life. Something couldn't be more grateful for. That'd also taken work and time, requiring him to reconcile himself with his past wrongs. Yet knowing he'd indeed put in the dedication, the result of it was one he'd never squander.

Having returned from a full day's work, spent out in the heat of the forges, he'd began to change into some more comfortable clothes the moment he'd entered the home. The clothes laid out on the nearby bed, he'd began to restyle his hair, fingers still having a small tremble to them. He'd mostly just accepted they'd always do that, no matter the braces or healing abilities.

Oh- He stilled at the sensation of touch on his back. Barely sensing the urge to whirl around and bare his still visible fangs at whomever threat had dared to sneak up on him. Instead, his tired shoulders relaxed at the feeling. He then smiled, a chuckle escaping as he finally turned.

"Well, I say it's fine now," he said, voice cool as he looked down at her. "Couldn't resist, huh?" Ah, yes, here it was. A smirk overtaking his face with a tilted head.

[strdstd-m]

[ @cordraconiis ― ★ ]

"Y-Yes, that's... that's me." Oh, how he hated the way his voice shook slightly. It never did that, he'd never allowed it do that. Loud, boastful, arrogant. That being how it should sound. How it... used to sound, at some point lost to time.

His own name truly shouldn't sound this foreign yet... familiar coming from the person before him. Those eyes, the cyan eyes that shone like ocean waves. He decided to keep his distance, yet still managed a slight smile in an attempt to diffuse the tension. Body forcing itself to relax into a more at ease posture.

"Yingxing, yes. That's me. Renowned craftsman, that's who I am as well. Anyway, before I start listing my accomplishments... who are you?"

[strdstd-m]

[ @dutybcrne ― ★ ]

Creation and destruction. The man that he was now, was made of both. Fragments haplessly forged together with the strongest of heat, forever imprinting onto his very soul.

Never again, would he be the same ambitious, arrogant, yet skilled craftsman. Sparking spite fueling every expertly-made creation, wielded by only the best of the High Cloud Quintet. Only serving to fan the flames of his ambition, like a wildfire, smugly burning those who dared to even try to compete with his abilities. How else would he have snatched the title of Furnace Master from right under the Artisanship Commission's nose?

Prove them wrong, prove the wrong, prove them wrong- Oh, he'd laughed in their faces back then, upon hearing of his rejection. What, did they expect him to grow disheartened and give up?! Fools, all of them! If they didn't want him, his skills were wasted there. They didn't need nor deserve someone of his high caliber. All because of him being short-life. Did they seriously underestimate him that much!? Did any of them have "crating weapons for the great heroes of the High Cloud Quintet" as an accomplishment? They'd regret not accepting him, as would the rest of the Xianzhou, for that matter.

His name and his exploits would carry on through the ages, scorching a path that would never cease.

He'd do so much more than those long-lived.

So, so much more.

But... pride comes before the fall. And the fall hit like a gargantuan cold wave of water, pulling him under and submerging him in its dark depths. Viciously extinguishing his flames of arrogance. Forever.

Hopes of a legacy, of avenging, were no more.

But.

Never again would he be the abomination whose only driving force was destruction. Whose name was more of a title than a given name, displaying the extent of his dehumanization in eerie perfection. Whose cold amber eyes only glowed with exhilaration when fighting, instead of a completed weapon.

An utter monster, from what Yingxing could recall. A hurricane of chaos and danger, tearing Teyvat apart.

There was a widening of his azure eyes at the revelation. Blade, the cruel being he was then, having done any scarp of good? That "kindness" having been directed at them?! Advocated for her to put herself first, that she didn't always have to cave to what others wanted of her. That... that he could faintly remember. Channeling his hideous swordsmanship towards protection instead of outright destruction, as well. Yet also struggling to hold down the urges to instantly decimate those he deemed a threat or a mere annoyance to them. It was no Spirit Whisper from Kafka, but a command from Lumine seemed to be enough to dull those vile desires for the time being.

"I wouldn't call it 'selfishness'..." Voice low, gaze merely peeking over to her before returning to look downward. "But I felt like... everyone was asking too much of you, impeding you in your true goal. I... despised that. Maybe because I knew, somewhere in my fragmented mind, how that felt?" All those long-lived, talking down to him, underestimating him. Different from Lumine's situation, yes, but... achingly similar to him.

The winds guiding him back, sword plunging into Abyssal beings one after another, spider lilies sprouting all around him and ensnaring any and all threats, sapping them of their life-force. Mara burning in him, agony coursing through at even the slightest movement, yet he still fought. Relentless in his protection, yet trying not to lose himself to the frenzied desire to eliminate everything in sight, regardless of alliance. Body pushed to its farthest limits, littered with ghastly wounds, barely able to stand when Lumine found him. It was only when he saw she was alive that he allowed himself to fall.

If he were to meet his end... this would be satisfactory. Went out in a blaze, just like he'd intended so long ago-

He stayed quiet, merely nodding. There would likely be parts of him that would always carry Blade with him. At least, his body displayed that quite clearly. Hideous scars that tore across his body, hands near-mangled after merciless justified torture. The occasional disregard for his well-being, the fierce protectiveness, as well memories embedded in him far deeper than he'd like.

However, he did find himself laughing a little, eyes closing briefly. "Heavier than I'd care to admit." Voice fully lacked its typical smug tone, a... resigned tone replacing it. "I'll never be the same Yingxing everyone knew again, and I'll never allow myself to be Blade again either. I'm a completely different man, like crafting a sword with a pair of hands other than my own. It's... a lot to think about, with both my and his memories mixing together."

Finally, he sighed and opened his eyes, directing his gaze towards her.

"But I hope that isn't a not a deterrent to you. Coming here, meeting you again. It's done more for me than any of my time on the Xianzhou ever did. After all that time spent wandering planet after planet, you could say I have a home again." Thus, he finally managed a smile. "If anything, I have a new goal, instead of avenging those lost... Replacing Wagner as Mondstadt's blacksmith."

Ah, yes, there it was, the classic arrogant smirk.

[strdstd-m]

Dan Heng. So similar, yet different. He'd be lying if his heart hadn't jolted upon hearing the first half of his name, only to return to normal upon hearing the secondary half. Right. It'd be foolish to think that this man before him was, well... the one he once thought him to be. Besides, now wasn't the time to inquire about such, especially with how uneasy Dan Heng seemed right now.

Thus, he nodded. "Right, that'd be best." Yes, he could've very well handled himself. Just because he knew how to make extraordinary weapons, didn't mean he didn't know how to wield such weapons. Engulfing any weapon in flames and striking out in fierce attacks. "Any idea as to where? We're on the Xianzhou, right? I know that much, but... have to admit, it looks... different compared to how I remember it. Looks like you're going to have to be my guide, heh-"

       ・⊱ Had he known just who he'd encounter now, perhaps he might have thought to run first. To him, from him–his instincts warred with that very thought even now. Every thud of his heart sang out almost in mournful melody, that uncanny familiarity ( because of his resemblance to him? of what this appearance could mean? ) weighing over him like a death knell.

        And yet...

        "Dan Heng."

        ...and yet, this wasn't something–someone–he could just flee from, now was he? He'd promised he'd see things through- If he left him alone now...what would happen to him? Who would take him? Would he be safe?

        "We should–" We...we– "We should get you out of here."

[strdstd-m]

"Hey, ow!" Feigning hurt, fingertips touched the are where they'd flicked, yet an amused smirk was quick to appear. To think he was lucky-

No. None of this had to do with luck, or fate, or divine intervention (though he did suppose receiving an Anemo Vision did help a little). Yingxing was never one to rely on things such as those to get what he wanted. Unreliable. Blazing his way through, giving it his all, using every last piece of experience and every last resource in his arsenal. It was all on him to achieve his desired results, how else would he have snagged the title of Furnace Master? Defiantly honing his skills, pushing himself further and further.

But, upon receiving his second chance at life and his past "existence" catching up with him... Blade, tearing his way across Teyvat like a unrelenting hurricane, leaving destruction in his wake. Archons, he'd likely never forgive himself for getting Lumine caught up in that storm. After everything they'd lost, they didn't deserve to witness the wraith that was Blade, a cruel mockery of the form of one they once cherished. His thoughts and feelings towards his past self were still a heavy mass of complications that was settle uncomfortably in his gut. Yet, maybe just maybe... he should be thanking him. It was all due to Blade's actions ― finding Lumine again, gradually getting closer, his "sacrifice" ― that Yingxing was given resurrection. In a way, Blade was finally given the rest he so desperately craved as well. The storm settling and ending, losing strength it'd built up to come to a quiet conclusion. His sword left behind at the sword cemetery, no longer needing to lug around such a vile weapon, one that only served to sicken as well as remind of times of icy chill and ceaseless bodily harm.

Blade could rest now. May he... find peace.

Now, now, he could focus on atonement.

Those fierce methods from the Xianzhou... wouldn't work. He knew that. So, a different approach was needed. No longer was the roaring fire a suitable option, a simple candle's flame was needed here. Just enough to illuminate and not strong enough to leave lasting burns like he once had when his life was nothing more than a desire for an end.

He'd certainly gotten what he'd wanted here and now. A home, his own forging business, and most importantly the one he treasured more like any of the prized weapons he'd ever created. Even if not everything everyone he'd wanted was here. This, all of this, would still do.

Briefly moving away to finish getting dressed, thereby covering his upper body, he perked up at her question. Blue eyes softened before he nodded. "Yes, might be good to rest my hands for tonight, anyway." He could still feel faint aches in them.

Thus, he sat himself down in a nearby chair, hair stick in hand for them to take.

       ・⊱ "I–you...!" Even with lingering prickles of guilt lingering in their chest, it didn't quite stop the flush of red flooding across their features at his teasing.

        Seriously, this guy-

        They reached out, gently flicking at his cheek as they let out a huff.

        "It's you. How could I?" Meant to be said in a sarcastic little drawl, however...honesty still laced those very words.

        Truly, after so long apart, after mourning him again and again, the fact that he was right here, that she could reach out and touch him never seemed to lose its novelty. Always wanting to hold him, always, vise-tight and warm, as though letting go meant he'd disappear before her very eyes, like that night at their balcony, leaving naught but the broken half of a hairpin and an unfinished blade to remember him by.

       And now...being able to see him, that soft, sometimes weary yet nevertheless cocky little look in his eyes and seeing his chest rise and fall with each breath he took; hearing his voice as they'd converse through the night, over a meal, his efforts at the forge where she'd linger mesmerized...

        ....such a thing, she'd thought she could only have in the depths of her memories. Of little visions conjured in idle, not mere feet away, in their home. Their home, part of their life together–this was theirs now. Theirs, perhaps after many a century too long of waiting, but THEIRS nonetheless-

        They shook their head, letting out a huffed little breath.

        Stars, they must look quite the fool, having said such a thing-

        "Would...would you like for me to help finish fixing your hair for you?" Now wasn't that such a subtle attempt to flusteredly brush off their abrupt little admission-