Fantasy 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 — uxie x vergaan

[Uxie]

uxie & ver

red carnations

须苞石竹

 

[Uxie]

序幕

prologue

 

[Uxie]

薛伊莲

Two days they had been in this town, and she found herself yet unable to adjust to the rough texture of their temporary bed. All beds, really, but this one was particularly poor. Admittedly, the inn had not been chosen for any sort of quality — rather, its keeper would not have batted an eye for a young couple travelling through, no matter his too-elegant build nor her too-refined mannerisms or the fact that they requested separate beds. Stoic and taciturn, a man like him had seen enough oddball clients to know better than to ask.

She had already been a light sleeper, and the discomfort of their sleeping quarters meant she was usually the first to rise after too-few hours of slumber. Crouching by his bedside as he slept had become part of her morning routine, and she'd take a few quiet moments to trace his features in her mind's eye. The sharp, swooping arch of his nose, to the gentle hang of his eyelashes. Then, to the window, where she'd sit and begin braiding her hair.

Each morning, she was always still weaving her dark locks when he arose and patted her gently on the head, and each morning, she would mumble quiet displeasure at the way his hand disturbed her carefully set hair.

Such was the life they lived, and she felt more than content with such simple things.

"Sleep well?"

She did not turn to face him as she spoke, her gaze directed instead through the crack of the window toward the market below. Even for the usually quiet street that housed their sleepy inn, there seemed to be a lot more going on today. Where much of the crowd passing through seemed headed toward the city centre, the few makeshift stalls out of ornately painted caravans gave her enough of a clue.

She'd run through such a market once, in her youth, but it had been far more difficult to flit around under Meimei's watchful eye. Still, she could conjure fond memories of the experience, and she toyed with the idea of making more.

"Zhixing,"

she began,

"Shall we go to the market today? It seems a merchant group has come into town."

Her voice was gentle, careful, as if she were prepared for rejection. She was, no doubt, even if he hadn't been particularly strict with her in their travels thus far — worrisome, however, to the point that it gave her no end of annoyance — because money was something they had to be concerned about. A wild boar or plucked herbs could only get them so much. But she could not help it! The glimmer of their wares beckoned to her, and as pretty as the fields of flowers he'd shown her out in wild nature had been, she was a girl who so adored traipsing through hectic cities and busy towns.

It had been a long time since she had been allowed to.

She pressed on eagerly,

"We might find something useful, perhaps. Like a detailed map of Northern Hebei, or something of the sort."

It was optimistic, of course, to expect to find a boon so perfect for their journey, but a girl could hope.

"I won't,"

She paused, considering her words,

"Splurge. We can just browse, even. Oh, I could—"

Her hands reached for the drawer, fishing out that discreet, worn sack and rummaging through it with deft fingers. From within she pulled out a hairpin, fixed with a peony in a garish shade of yellow that she could tell at a glance was horrid for her complexion — a gift meant to slight her, but today it would be her golden goose.

She turned back to him, holding out the accessory triumphantly.

"We could pawn this today for an allowance, yes?"

 

[Vergaan]

李志星

In his dreams, he is sharpening a short knife made of blades of grass, attentively plucking off the small flower buds sprouting on the surface as if picking lint from his clothes. They fall to the dirt beside him and root into the soil, clumping together. In front of him sits a vague figure, watching idly as he continues his fruitless efforts to cleanse the sword of color. He can’t make out the person’s face, but he has a strange feeling he doesn’t need to- that their comforting silence is sufficient for a guarantee of faith.

He thinks he knows who it is, anyway. Maybe he should ask the questions that have been hounding him for years, but he knows far too well that the answers will not be genuine ones. It’s been long enough for him to recognize this as a dream, so he keeps quiet and hopes he’ll stay a while longer.

The barren ground around him is laden with old footprints, and in his peripheral vision he thinks he can make out the shadows of corpses. The sky is a brilliant wash of muted red-orange. He focuses on his hands. He focuses on ripping the flowers out of the knife.

He focuses on the boy in front of him with familiar stars swirling in his eyes.

-

He wakes slowly.

Much like the way children plunge their chubby hands into the river again and again to try to capture the moon in their palms for their tired mothers at home, his dreams slip away through the lines of his fingers and back into the darkness.

He turns from the movement of a shadow cast across the wall. Silhouetted in the warm light of the sun is Xiao Lian, in all her morning glory. She’s carefully braiding her hair next to the window, movements practiced and precise. Even after all this time, her elegance hasn’t faded to adjust to their chaotic new lives. Her history has been branded into her habits whereas he had shed his own like old snakeskin. Then again, that was consistent with his own past in a way. He hopes she doesn’t ever have to. There’s no telling the lengths he’d go to ensuring her comfort, though he may have a rough impression of it.

Slipping out of the coarse bedsheets, he pads over to the comfortingly familiar sight and gently runs a hand through her hair. Briefly, he wonders when exactly he had become so bold as to touch her so freely, but can only be thankful about his privilege.

"Sleep well?"

He hums lightly in lazy acknowledgement, peeking out the window where Xiao Lian is facing. She seems to be looking at the colorful stalls far from the outskirts of their present whereabouts. It’s confirmed by her request a moment later, a hesitant inquisition that gains momentum as her confidence grows.

This would have been easy to agree to, but he holds off on automatically accepting to think it over. It’s a terribly difficult affair to hold back, but they had just paid for their stay at the inn yesterday, and he had planned to go out and find some odd jobs here and there today to ensure they had the funds to stay as long as they had intended. While they have never fallen behind or starved at length in exchange for financing shelter, they also haven’t managed to create enough of a buffer to freely spend their coin just yet. However, Xiao Lian continues to make a case for a short trip, and even turns to their cloth sack to pluck out a delicate hairpin with floral decor and proclaim it an allowance for their visit.

He grimaces at the thought of selling off another accessory. He knows they had brought them for the express purpose of selling or trading them off as necessary, but he still can’t get rid of the slight pang of guilt for not being able to hold onto them, wishing foolishly that Xiao Lian were able to wear them as she desired. They always look so.. Correct on her, much more so than their current well-worn outfits— Not that she didn’t manage to look beautiful no matter what she wore, comparable to a lotus blooming through muddy waters.

Besides, they’re never able to sell those hairpins for what they’re really worth. Neither of them have much experience in the area, but he can’t make a whole fuss about it since he doesn’t know the true worth of the hairpin. At least even he knows it should be more than a small bag of coin worth half a dozen nights at a comfortable inn.

“Alright. Let’s just head over and take a look. We can go get breakfast on the way?” He tries for a reassuring grin.

“You go on ahead first. I’ll wear my shoes and catch up with you outside.”

 

[Uxie]

薛伊莲

She can see his expression morph as he thinks over her proposal, and she pushes her smile wider, as if he might succumb to it. It is after a moment he finally speaks, "Alright. Let’s just head over and take a look." Elation splits across her features, and she reaches for his hands instinctually, giving them a quick squeeze before she turns back to assemble her shopping purse. "We can go get breakfast on the way?”

"Mhm."

Would there be a need to bring an umbrella? They probably wouldn't be out that long, right? Perhaps she'd stop by the apothecary, too.

"You go on ahead first. I’ll wear my shoes and catch up with you outside."

It is without much thought Xiaolian complies, making her way out of the inn with a skip in her step. The fresh air — same as it had been the past two days — seems fresher today owing to reasons that can only be her lifted mood. A hand digs into her purse, finding the hairpin to turn it over carefully between her fingertips. How much would this pawn for? At least twenty silver coins, surely, though it had always been quite a feat convincing suspicious pawnshop owners that her things were legitimate. Harder, still, when she spends too long turning over the ornaments for their tiny craftsman stamps, and the owner becomes just short of accusing them of theft.

Getting arrested at this stage is not a possibility she wishes to even consider.

She hovers by the entrance of the inn, fully intending to wait for Zhixiang, but the distant heckling of stall owners pull her gaze over. What little patience she has fizzles away, and she decides, easily, that she would not venture too far. Certainly, she had become adept at acquiescing to her whims since they'd begun their travels.

As she trots toward the stall, its owner — a middle-aged woman with a warm smile and a thundering voice — beckons her over with a wave of her hand. "Lass! Lass! Won't you give it a try?"

It's a flatbread of some sort, dough folded messily over itself and stuffed full of ingredients she cannot immediately recognise. Her only certainty is that it smells delicious, with a fragrance that was as comforting as a hearth in the winter.

"What is it?"

"Jianbing, lass! It's popular up north," The woman laughs, a short, hearty sound, "Lesser-known here, but it's good stuff; I can guarantee it!"

The north? Then... it would probably be something he'd know of, yes? Her eyes shimmer with earnest curiosity, following the woman's hands carefully as she dips a small wooden bowl into the vat of batter. When she finally lifts her gaze, it meets the stall owner's expectant one that all but asks, Are you buying?

She offers an apologetic smile before she turns back toward the inn, in search of her companion. He always cut quite a dashing figure, or, perhaps, she'd just grown very proficient at spotting him amidst a crowd. It is a useful skill to have, and one she would never admit aloud to him.

He steps out from the inn not a moment too late, and an excited smile splits across her features.

"Zhixiang!"

she calls, as her feet carry her forward to meet him halfway. An arm immediately loops around his, tugging him along back towards the stall. The owner's hands move into action as she returns, clearly taking her reaction as a sale almost-closed.

"Look what I found! They say it's from the north,"

Her gaze darts between his face and the food, her face utterly betraying the thrilled anticipation that she might've found something for him.

"Is it something you like? Something you're familiar with?"

The woman does not raise her head to speak. "Husband and wife, are you?"

"Oh,"

Xiaolian pauses, her expression flinching for a split-second before her cheery tone returns, albeit somewhat sheepishly,

"Yes, yes. Newlyweds."

They hadn't agreed on that bit — she was sure he wouldn't mind.

The woman lifts her gaze this time, giving him a brief once-over as if appraising him. "You're from the north?"