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Life outside the Shackling Prison was hard, but the freedom was worth the struggle. The years out here, fending for himself and struggling to find any job that would put cash in his pocket and food in his stomach, were still preferable to being in chains.
After having completed the last temporary job, he was desperately trying to find a new one, but luck had not been on his side. The lead he thought he’d found had run dry. Now, he was trying to find a place to bunk down for the night, a tricky task when it was snowing.
Honestly, he found more comfort in the snow than the warmth of this Winter Festival he meandered through. Abundant lanterns lit the streets that were filled with laughing children and the smell of cooking sweets. His stomach growled. Hungry as he was, he didn’t have any money to spend on the frivolities being pedaled here. He barely had enough to cover a couple more meals. He estimated he could afford three more, meaning that he had a day and a half to find a job before his money would completely run out.
“Don’t forget to put a snack by your window tonight!” a food merchant called out. “And maybe you’ll be visited by the Time Ghosts!”
“Burning this incense will increase your chances of a visit!” another peddler called out. “It’s the only night to see into your future, after all!”
“Tea is the way to go!” a third called out, harking his wares. “You can only truly understand the future if you take the time to sit in the present and reflect on the past.”
Time Ghosts? What nonsense. Then again, Dan Heng did find the legend intriguing. One of the things he enjoyed most about this freedom was the opportunity to learn firsthand. No longer was he limited to just book learning. Each planet he visited had vastly different beliefs and lore. He supposed everyone needed to believe in something. He no longer knew what he believed.
Far away from the festivities, he found an empty alleyway that only held a couple of trash cans. It seemed like this might be his best shot at a place to hunker for the evening. Tomorrow morning, he’d go back to the transport docks and see if he could find another job. At this point, he’d settle for just another lead.
He dropped his pack on the ground, taking out the heavy tarp he would wrap himself in to keep warm in this cold. It was one of his meager belongings, but a necessary tool that had kept him alive this long.
A white cloud formed in front of his lips with each breath. He didn’t want to be ungrateful because his freedom still held immeasurable value, but he hated this. He hated the Shackling Prison more, but this… if this was all he was afforded, then what was the point of life? Once upon a time, that Jing Yuan figure had told him exile might be the best thing to happen to him, not only to escape the prison but to find a life to live. Back then, Dan Heng had been naïve enough to believe him. He knew better now. Jing Yuan had said that not for Dan Heng’s sake, but rather to appease his own guilt.
Dan Heng curled up in the tarp, trying to keep warm against the gust of winter wind. “It would be better if I just died here, wouldn’t it, Jing Yuan?”
“Don’t say that.”
Startled, Dan Heng looked up, only to see a floating green figure looking down at him. Throwing off his tarp, Dan Heng swung out his spear, aiming the tip at the figure he hadn’t heard approach. “What are you?”
“Do settle down,” the figure pacified. It was small, barely half Dan Heng’s height. The top half looked like a person, but its legs were replaced with an odd fire that almost resembled a dress. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Then state your intentions.”
“You are new to this planet, so I cannot expect you to be so accepting of my presence, yet I’m certain you’ve heard of me. After all, we saw your dubious glower at the mention of the Time Ghosts.”
Dan Heng studied this figure, his mind reeling as he tried to place it. “You’re a heliobus,” he finally realized.
It giggled, a translucent hand covering where Dan Heng assumed its mouth would be. Though it had a face, it had no features. “Then you are more familiar with us than we realized. It will make our job much easier.”
He took a step back, only for his heel to knock against the wall. “Don’t touch me!”
“I have to, in order to give you a blessing.”
“I don’t want it.”
“But you need it,” the heliobus spoke. “My companions and look over all the people who inhabit this town who so kindly leave out goodies to sustain us. In return, we decide which ones need our blessings the most on these festival nights.”
“I’m not from this town, so go find someone else.”
“We don’t want to. We’ve decided on you, not because you are the most earnest believer or give the largest gifts, but because I fear you have given up all hope for the future.”
The spear wavered, the weapon growing heavy in his hand. He was too weak to keep this up for much longer.
“Hence, you will be visited tonight by three heliobi. I am the first of them, here to show you a vision of the past.”
Dan Heng physically recoiled, the spear officially clattering to the ground as he sidestepped toward the exit. “I refuse! I don’t want to see my past—”
“Who said it was your past?” the heliobus questioned. “I just said the past.”
“What difference does it make?”
“A world of difference.” The heliobus somehow grew closer. “Allow me to show you.”
Green fire exploded all around him. With a cry, Dan Heng collapsed to his knees, instinctively shielding his face with his arms. But there was no heat, no burning, no anything. In fact, even the bitter winter chill had disappeared.
Slowly, Dan Heng lowered his hands, eyes frantically scanning his surroundings. No longer was he in the alleyway, sitting pathetically in the snow. The building, one made of polished metal and sterile white walls, was not a place he’d ever seen before. The heliobus had said something about the past, but not necessarily his. What kind of past was this? Then again, one never could trust a heliobus to tell the truth. He’d read that many times in books.
“No!” a little voice cried. “Stop! It hurts!”
Frantically, Dan Heng searched for the origin of that voice. A child, though he couldn’t see anyone around. His heart raced as he shakily stood to his feet. Too many times had those words left his lips, not that anyone cared to listen.
He cared now.
“Stop struggling!” an adult voice shouted. “Or do you want to be sent to the special ward?”
“Nooooo!”
Dan Heng looked around the corner of the hallway, finally spying the two figures. A tall human woman in a white lab coat, and a little girl, dressed in an overlarge blue gown, sobbing her eyes out.
The researcher yanked the child by the wrist, causing her to hit the tile floor. “Get up.”
“No! I don’t wanna! It hurts.” The child remained on the ground, their messy gray hair hanging over her red face as she continued to cry.
“Get up!” The woman raised her hand.
Dan Heng was moving in an instant. He couldn’t stand idly by and let that hand descend on the child. He slammed into the back of the woman, throwing her across the hallway.
With a gasp, the child watched horror-struck as the woman in a white coat slumped motionlessly to the ground.
“Come on,” he cried, reaching for the child’s hand. “We have to run.”
The child barely had time to grab his hand before he was tugging her to her feet. Together, they ran down one hall, then the next.
An alarm went off, the sterile white light being replaced with red as sirens blared through speakers. The child clapped her hands over her ears, cowering at the noise. Desperately, Dan Heng searched for an escape, only to watch a door open at the end of the hall and more people in white coats pour through it.
He grabbed the child, picking her up in his arms and running the opposite direction.
Only once they’d wove through enough hallways did Dan Heng duck behind a pile of boxes stacked recklessly in a dim hallway. “Keep quiet,” he told the sniveling child. At least she wasn’t full-out sobbing anymore.
Her breathing was stilted, yet she rubbed her red-rimmed eyes and nodded.
He tucked her against his chest, sitting back against the box as he heard the white coats scamper past, each talking over each other to give commands. Something about their security system being hacked, an unknown ship docking in the lower decks, and a madman on a rampage.
But finally, the voices faded.
Dan Heng breathed a sigh. “Listen,” he finally told the girl, not daring to talk above a whisper at this point. “We’re going to find a way out of here. It’s just… going to take a while.”
She was shaking in his arms, not that he could blame her. He was panicking; he couldn’t imagine how she felt at her age. What her age was, he didn’t know. He hadn’t been out of the Shackling Prison long enough to know what kids were supposed to look like at what age.
“No one leaves,” the child whispered, her little hands fisting in his ragged coat. “Ever.”
His gut churned. Why did that sound so haunting? Children were known to be over-dramatic, yet her tone carried a certainty beyond her years. “W-well, we are,” he said. “We just have to find the right way out.”
“They all say no one leaves the place,” she continued as though she hadn’t heard him. “You only leave if you go to the ‘special ward,’ and no one wants to go there.”
Dan Heng frowned. “Special ward?”
Her eyes teared up again. “I once saw it,” she whispered, her voice cracking with fear. “There’s fire. Lots of fire. They put your body on a metal tray and roll you into the fire.” Tears were now pouring down her face. “You can’t fail anything, or you get sent there.”
Cremation, he realized with sickening clarity. This child had watched dead bodies being disposed of and believed that was where she would end up.
No child should ever have to fear that.
Comfort was not one of his strong suits. Honestly, he didn’t even know if he was capable of it. Yet, he felt some instinctive need to pull her close and let her cry on his shoulder. “We’re not going there. Ever.”
“Promise?”
“Yes. We’re going to escape.”
“But no one—”
“We will. I promise.” They had to. Not only did they have to escape this hellhole, but he had to escape whatever dream this was. Looking back, it was stupid of him to grab this child. She wasn’t even real, just a figment of this heliobi-induced dream. Yet, he just couldn’t leave her. He understood helplessness far too well to let it go.
The sirens had since stopped, the white lights mostly returning. A few still remained a pulsing red, a warning sign that Dan Heng would not ignore. As long as that red remained, there was imminent danger around every corner. He turned around to look at the child who was now clinging to the torn tails of his coat. “Can you walk?”
“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded.
“I won’t.” Whether she was real or an illusion, he couldn’t leave her be. His heart was too broken for that. Once they escaped, then he could find a place to leave her, but for now, he was her protector. He was all she had.
He wished he had someone when he was that little.
They wove through this labyrinth of hallways, some leading past glass-walled rooms. One of those rooms was filled with humongous test tubes, whitecoat-wearing people crowded around each one with clipboards in hand. Yet another room was filled with more white coats hovering over children no larger than the one behind him. He really hoped they’d keep their attention on each other and fail to notice his presence.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. Panicked, Dan Heng ducked into a side hallway, forgetting that the little girl was clinging to his coat. She hadn’t been able to follow, instead standing frozen in the hallway, looking like she was about to cry again.
He beckoned her closer. “Come.”
“There you are.”
The sultry female voice caused ice to claw up Dan Heng’s spine.
The little girl turned to the right, and Dan Heng ducked deeper into the shadows. Self-preservation overrode his desire to help this poor girl. Guilt panged through him as he watched a woman with red-violet hair and a black coat kneel before the girl. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
The little girl glanced toward Dan Heng one last time before turning to the woman. “Who are you?”
“I’m Kafka,” the woman said. “I’m here to take you far, far away from all this, and together, we’ll go on a big adventure.”
Her brow furrowed.
“You know what an adventure is?” Kafka asked.
The little girl shook her head.
“It means we escape the laboratory and go fly among the stars in the sky. How does that sound?”
Dan Heng watched the little girl’s shoulders slump. “No one ever escapes.”
“Is that what they say?” Kafka clicked her tongue. “They’re all liars. All they ever said to you was a lie.”
“A… lie?”
“That’s right. You can leave if you want. Do you want to stay here?”
Again, the little girl shook her head.
“Then, let’s go on an adventure.” The woman scooped up the child in her arms and began walking away. But before they could disappear, the little girl looked straight at Dan Heng’s hiding spot and gave a sad wave over the woman’s shoulder.
Dan Heng remained frozen. What was he supposed to do? Help the child? Trust the child would be safe there?
He didn’t know.
He didn’t know!
Hesitantly, he crept out of his hiding spot. One step, then another, then a third. He carefully peeked around the corner,
Only to be hit with a blast of cold air.
He blinked, cracking open his eyes and looking around the… alleyway. He was back in the alleyway.
“Oh! You saved the child,” the heliobus said with a clap of her hands. “I knew you would.”
Dan Heng was gasping for breath as he whipped around, eyes locking on the dancing green flame. “Where is she?” he asked, his voice taking on a surprisingly growly tone.
“Hmm?”
“The little girl. Where is she?”
“Oh? You want to see her again?” The heliobus chuckled. “That’s not my domain. Wait until the next one comes.”
“The next one?”
“Yup! I can only show the past; the next one will show the present. The third, your future. I doubt it’s as grim as you think it is. Too-da-loo!”
“Wait!”
But it disappeared in a snap.
Dan Heng fell to his knees, his strength completely vanished. How much of his energy had he burned up on that little excursion? His stomach still panged with hunger, and now his heart panged with guilt. He should have reached out to take her hand, to help her instead of hiding like a coward.
Aeons, he really was worthless.
His tarp and meager belongings were still right where he’d left them. He looked through his pack, taking inventory of everything. It was all still there.
With a shake of his head—a motion he regretted; the world was spinning now—he wrapped himself back up in the tarp, intending to get some sleep.
“Is it dead?”
Dan Heng woke with a start, eyes immediately locking on the little dancing green fire.
“Nope!” the chubby heliobus cheered, bouncing around like a dancing candleflame. “Very much alive.”
“You…”
“Did my buddy give you the rundown of everything?” it asked, its voice markedly different than the first. “She’s way better at explaining things than I am. So we should just jump into it! I still got places to be tonight.”
“Wait!” Dan Heng threw off the tarp. “The child. Where is she?”
“What child?”
Dan Heng’s gut sank. “The little girl in the previous dream.” He was delusional, begging like a dog for information about an illusion. So why was he so frantic? He’d blame his exhaustion.
“I don’t know what you saw in the last dream. All I can do is take you to the present.”
Dan Heng’s brow furrowed. “We’re in the present.”
“Not here present.”
A gust of wind blew, Dan Heng shutting his eyes against the brutal blast of cold.
“Here present!”
When Dan Heng opened his eyes again, the first thing he noticed was that he was once again not in the alley. This city, wherever it was, was lacking in snow. Instead of being covered in lanterns, it was painted with neon lights.
There was a weak cough over to the side, calling Dan Heng’s attention. A figure with gray hair lay limply against the opposite wall of the alley.
A woman… with messy gray hair.
Dan Heng scrambled to his feet. “Hey,” he called out, shuffling over to her. “Are you—”
She raised a bat, aiming the shaking end at him. “Stay… back.”
He stopped three paces away, just close enough to study her. Just close enough to realize that this broken, bleeding woman who could barely hold a weapon was the little girl from the last vision.
She was okay. She had escaped, but to what end? Like him, she was battered in an alleyway, looking far worse for wear.
Slowly, the bat lowered. “You…” The end clunked against the ground, her arm having completely lost grip. “Do I… know you?”
“Yes and no,” he answered.
Her gaze narrowed, but her eyes still seemed unfocused. “We’ve met?”
“Once.”
And with that, she let her eyes close and head lull back against the concrete wall.
He knelt down beside her. “What happened?”
“Ambush,” she muttered.
He looked her over, noting the holes in her clothes, the blood oozing out of them. Considering the beating she’d taken, there were probably other hidden injuries as well. “We have to get you medical attention.”
“The others… are close.”
“How close?”
She paused, her lips pursing.
So, not close at all.
His brow furrowed as he looked at her wounds, the ones that littered her legs and torso. A dirty alleyway was a terrible place to bleed out. It was too easy for wounds to get infected in a filthy place like this. Though he didn’t want to use his magic, he didn’t feel like he had a choice. It was the one way he could help, and she needed all the assistance she could get.
“Delve Hidden Moon,” he whispered, the sensation feeling so wrong as a little ball of water accumulated in his hand. Fear clawed across his skin, like he was going to get taken to the stake and beaten within an inch of his life for so much as uttering those words.
The woman’s eyes cracked open, watching as he hovered the water over her wounds. Piece by piece, he used that water to wash the blood and grime away from her injuries. Though she hissed in pain, she stayed still, allowing him to assist, however meager it was.
“That’s… cool,” she grit out, still working past the sting.
“You can’t stay here.”
“And where do you suggest I go?” she quipped. “I… I can’t even stand.”
Without prompting, he scooped her up, earning a squeak of surprise out of her. “Do you have a place? Or do I have to wander around until I find one?”
For a moment, she stared at him. She had shockingly golden eyes, like polished coins he only wished he had. Eventually, she relaxed, throwing her arms around his neck to steady herself. “Walk out of the alley and turn right.”
Carrying anyone for two city blocks was already hard, but with how weak he was, it felt like a miracle he hadn’t dropped her. He was so thankful when they made it to a dumpy little apartment and he could finally set her down. He was growing lightheaded from the effort.
Except, even though he set her on the bed, she still didn’t let him go. “You’ve carried me before,” she muttered.
He hoped she wasn’t going to judge just how out of breath he was. It was far too late to hope she hadn’t noticed. “Yeah,” he managed to huff out.
“Thank you.” And she released him. “Can you get the bandages. They’re in the bathroom.”
He did just that. After dumping the rather extensive first aid kit on the bed, he helped patch her up.
“Who are you?” she asked, lying down on the bed to rest as Dan Heng started gathering all the opened wrappers and used supplies.
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“I’m no one important.”
“Well, neither am I. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”
“You’re important to someone.”
“I’m important to a plan. Whether I’m really important to anyone is still up for debate.” She scoffed. “Nah, maybe I’m being unfair. I’d… I’d like to think I’m important to someone, but… they aren’t here even though they promised they would be.”
He carried the trashcan back to the bathroom. “It must be nice to have… anyone.” With an audible thud, he dropped the can back beside the sink.
“What’s your name?” she pressed again.
With pursed lips, he stared at the bloody supplies in the trash, debating whether or not to answer. She was safe now; it would be best if he left so she could get some rest. But a name wouldn’t hurt… would it?
Lifting his head, he marched out of the bathroom. “I’m Dan—”
This was no longer the room. It was a snowy alleyway with his meager belongings piled along the wall. It was cold, the snow lit by the faint trails of lantern light rather than neon. But most notably, the woman was gone.
Once again, he was alone.
Stupidly, he looked around as though he’d find her here. She was safe and sound back in that little safehouse, hopefully getting some much-needed sleep to recover from her brutal beating. Yet, no logic would calm his stuttering heart.
“Looking for someone?”
Dan Heng turned toward the voice, coming face to face with the heliobus he’d been talking to before that vision. “Where is she?”
“The girl?”
“Yes,” Dan Heng pressed. “Is she alright?”
“You saw for your own eyes that she was, right?”
“I… ugh!” He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stumbled back against the alley wall. “Why am I even asking that? Nothing a heliobus can show you is real.” That’s what the book said, the one he’d managed to get his hands on back in the Shackling Prison. It warned against trusting those little trickster spirits at all costs, suggesting they feed off human emotions and could even empty your soul if you let them in deep enough.
He needed to run.
“It is, though,” the heliobus said.
“Lies.”
“No, really!” the heliobus cried, before realization struck it. “Ohhhh! You think we’re one of those heliobi. I promise we’re not. We do this for human food, that’s it.”
“And you trick people to do it,” Dan Heng grumbled.
“Trick? My friend, nothing has been a trick. The heliobi you met before me is aligned with the remembrance. It can find memories of those linked to you through the red thread of fate. I also use that thread to bend space and time, allowing you to meet someone of importance to you. The third one you’ll meet… well, I still don’t know how they operate. Something about following that red thread into the void of possibilities and finding one to show you? Beats me. All I know is that people love it.”
“Enough to give you food?”
“Lots of it!” the heliobus bounced. “Tastiest offerings ever. Speaking of which, I gotta run before the other two eat it all!”
It vanished like the snuffed-out flame of a candle.
And once again, he was alone.
Weakly, Dan Heng stumbled back to his tarp, collapsing in the snow right before he could reach it. Dang, he was growing really weak. He should not have skipped dinner. If he’d eaten a proper meal instead of the last packaged bun he’d collected days ago, he would have had the strength to actually carry that woman to safety without getting tired.
Normally, he preferred to sleep sitting up when in unprotected places like this. One never knew when danger would arise and would need to react. However, he was almost too tired to move.
Tugging his lumpy bag forward into a make-shift pillow, he wrapped himself in the tarp once again, curling into a tight little ball with his back to the wind. Sleep was already tugging on his eyelids, beckoning him into the world of unconsciousness.
“Too tired for me, huh?” a voice muttered. “What did the other two do to you?”
Dan Heng should answer, but what was he supposed to say? His mind was beginning to shut down, his jaw too heavy to move.
“Meh, fine by me.”
And then Dan Heng felt himself being pulled under.
He didn’t know how long he slept. All he knew was that he felt stirring beside him. Something landed on his face, tracing along his cheekbones, his nose, his brow, before brushing back his hair. “Good morning, Handsome.”
Exhausted, he rolled away from the featherlight touch. Wherever he was, he was warm. Pleasantly so. If that thing left him alone, he could easily go back to sl—
That touch curled under his jaw, and then something landed against his lips.
He was awake now!
His eyes flew open, only to be greeted with the sight of a woman’s face far closer than it should be. A familiar face, one with messy gray hair. One he’d seen in the last dream, and the one before that.
“You’re awake,” she commented, her smile brightening.
Never in his life had he been more confused.
The woman sat up, and he became keenly aware of how she was straddling him. A position significantly worsened by the fact she was not in pants and he wasn’t in a shirt. “Normally you’re the one to wake me up, so gotta turn the tables when I can.”
Turning tables on who? What was she talking about? He didn’t even know her name, yet he was sharing a bed with her? How... what...
Huh?
Her brow furrowed. “You feeling okay?” She leaned forward, pressing a hand ot his forehead. “You’re really red.”
Of course he was red. His heart was pounding out of his chest as his mind worked overtime trying to figure out just how in the hell he’d gotten himself into this situation. The future, he finally realized. This was supposed to be the future, after seeing the past and present. A future that contained this same woman.
A future they shared?
And he was back to being confused.
“I… I’m fine,” he muttered, uncertain of what else to say.
She sighed, pulling her hand back and blessedly crawling off of him. Thank the aeons. Her skin against his was... was...
He was going to explode.
“Yeah, right,” she muttered. “Don’t give me that ‘fine’ nonsense. I know you better than that.”
He didn’t have the ability to process her words. His body was on fire, his mind was racing, and his heart was going to break his ribs with how hard it was pounding. Slowly, he sat up, taking in the fact that he was on a bed. An actual, comfortable mattress lined with soft sheets.
He ran his hands over the comforter and froze when he spotted something gleam. He blinked, thinking he was dreaming.
Nope, still there.
He lifted his left hand, examining the wedding ring on his finger.
“Are you hurt?”
She reached out, taking his hand in hers. Being unable to tear his eyes away from the golden band meant Dan Heng noticed she too wore a ring on her left hand. Wedding rings, one bed, a kiss…
Were they married?
Finally, he looked up at the woman who was still examining his hand. The woman who he’d carried out of the alleyway. The girl he’d tried to save from the lab. His… his wife?
He had no idea how to process anything he was seeing right now.
“And that’s what you get for holding me down.”
“Huh?”
She quirked a brow. “I didn’t hurt you when trying to break out of your grasp, did I? Then again, it’s your fault for being a monster in bed.” She kissed his fingers, then slid out of bed.
He didn’t realize people could feel their skin turn colors. He was probably so sickly red he was almost purple. His throat was in such a knot he couldn’t breathe.
And then he locked on her figure as she stretched, her arms reaching high above her head and lifting the hem of her nightshirt to nearly her rear, showing off her incredibly toned legs, ones covered in little bruises...
“Much as I’d love to stay in bed with you,” she said, snapping his attention back to her face. “It’s our turn to make break…” A smug smirk crept across her lips as she caught him staring. “Like what you see? Here I thought you got enough last night.”
His face grew impossibly redder, his embarrassment at staring bubbling up like scalding water. He needed to go back to the present. He couldn’t stand being in this dream any longer. “You…” he swallowed, trying to untangle the knot in his throat. “are in my shirt.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Since the day we got married, when have I ever not worn your clothes to bed?”
He didn’t have a response to that.
“What’s up with you?” she questioned. “I’d joke about blowing your mind last night, but you’re not smiling, so this isn’t funny.”
“I…” He rubbed his eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“Hey. Nuh-uh. We talked about the ‘nothing’ word. You don’t get to hide stuff from me because you don’t want to inconvenience me.” She plopped down on the bed beside him. “So I’ll ask again, what’s going on?”
Discomfort crawled up his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling under her scrutiny. In all the odd situations he’d been in, he’d always been able to find an escape route, but how was he supposed to escape this? “My head,” he finally said.
She reached out, cradling his cheeks and forcing him to look at her. Her intense golden gaze made him uncomfortable, yet he couldn’t pull away.
“You don’t look great, honestly.” Her hands finally fell away. “You should rest. I’ll make breakfast for everyone then bring you up some tea. Does that sound okay?”
“Y-yeah.” This might be his chance to get some alone time to process… well, everything.
“Want me to bring you up some congee or something? Or should I ask once I bring up tea? Either way, you’re getting food.”
At the mention of congee, his stomach growled. It had been ages since he’d had rice, and even though it was simple and bland, it was a familiar meal that he’d kill for right now.
She smiled. “I’ll throw it in the pressure pot. Eggs on top and some scallions?”
Somehow, his body overrode every panic signal and locked in on the mouth-watering prospect of food. “Yes.”
“I’ll hurry, then.”
With that, she grabbed a gray silk robe from a hook on the wall, sliding it over her arms as she walked out the door. Leaving him alone in this bizarre room.
Slowly, he sank back down into the bed, curling up beneath the covers and basking in the warmth. The questions running over and over in his mind should have kept him up, yet his exhaustion pulled him back under.
When he woke again, he was cold. Miserably so. Although he was used to waking up in all sorts of situations, it felt especially brutal today. He forced his dry eyes open, noting the way a hazy orange glow covered the world. Morning?
Groggily, he sat up, the tarp sinking off his shoulders. Scrubbing his chilled hands down his face, his mind started replaying that dream. Of waking up in a huge room, snuggled in a warm mattress, lying next to… to a wife.
That was the most mind-boggling part of that dream. A wife? He had a wife? What a joke. That was what he got for getting entangled with heliobi.
The memory of staring at a wedding band shot to the forefront of his mind, and he absently looked down at his gloved hands. He knew he wasn’t wearing a ring. There was no point in removing his glove to check.
He did anyway. It wasn’t a surprise to see his hand was empty.
Why was he disappointed?
He scoffed, yanking his gloves back on.
A wife… His mind still clung to the prospect, fueled by the strangest pang in his heart he’d ever felt. Ever since he’d hatched, Dan Heng had only known misery. He’d grown up believing a good day was one he got three small meals and could read a book and maybe escape being bullied by the guards. That was his high point. He hadn’t ever realized he could gain freedom until the day he was shown to the docks. From there, a good day had become food in his stomach and a warm place to sleep. He’d never wished for anything beyond that. And now, he was dreaming of a wife? He might as well wish for the galaxy in his hand.
His stomach growled, spasming so hard he nearly doubled over.
“Hungry much?”
Dan Heng looked toward the voice, only to spy a third floating fire, this one long and thin, the figure shaped like a candlestick. The last heliobus. The one that had shot him into that… whatever that was.
Tired and hungry, Dan Heng’s patience had run out. His lips curled up in a sneer, and the only reason he didn’t lunge at the heliobus was because he was too weak to do so. “What kind of sick joke was that?”
“What do you mean by ‘joke’?”
“What makes you think I’d have a wife?”
“The red thread on your finger, obviously.”
Silenced by the bluntness of this heliobus, Dan Heng looked down at his hand. Red thread? Like… the red thread of fate?
He had one?
No. He shook his head. He couldn’t. He was an exile, a curse, a vile being who was destined to pay the price of his predecessor. “You’re not going to trick me.”
“Oh?” Though the heliobus didn’t really have a face, Dan Heng could hear its smugness. “What’s so bad about having a soulmate?”
“It’s impossible for me.”
“Fate proves otherwise.”
Dan Heng scoffed. “There’s no such thing as fate.”
The heliobus hummed. “Then prove me wrong.”
“Easily.”
“Is that a bet?”
“I don’t make bets with heliobi.”
“Okay, then prove it to yourself. Are you going to sit here like a pathetic sadsack and waste your life away?”
“I don’t have a choice in how my life goes.”
“So you really are a pathetic sadsack.”
Dan Heng didn’t really have a comeback for that. Instead, he began to pack his things up, the cold air particularly biting without the protection of his tarp. “I’ve got places to be.”
“Ten years,” the heliobi continued. “Prove me wrong by living ten years.”
Ten years? Dan Heng scoffed. He wasn’t sure he’d live ten weeks at this rate. If he was being dramatic, he’d say he wouldn’t make it ten days if he didn’t get some food. “You expect me to make it that long?”
“I do if you happen to head down to the docks and snag that bodyguard job.”
The world stilled, his ears perking up at those words. Until he recalled he was talking to a heliobus. “How do I know you’re not joking?”
“You’ll just have to look and see. But keep that skepticism about you, yeah? If you’re gonna guard a bunch of masked fools, you’ll find yourself answering that question a lot.”
Masked fools? That sounded like a group he didn’t want to get mixed up with.
And yet, his stomach growled again.
“Ha ha! I’d hurry if I were you. Maybe they’ll pay upfront with some congee, but I doubt it will be as good as your future wife’s.” And with a flicker, the heliobus extinguished, the last flickers rising up like smoke in the sky.
Dan Heng stood, dusting the snow off his backpack before throwing it over his shoulder. First order of business was the docks. If there really was a job he was lucky enough to score, then he’d reward himself with a big breakfast.
The heliobi’s challenge stuck with him the whole walk. Ten years, that thing had said. His life would apparently do a complete turn around in a mere ten years. He glanced down at his left hand. A red thread of fate. He’d read about that story a handful of times as a child. It always made him feel uncomfortable, or more accurately, lonely. Because there was no way the heavens would ever have seen fit to tie a red string to his hand. He’d forever be alone.
But… what if…
He’d blame it on the exhaustion, on the hunger, on the bone-deep weariness in his body and soul, but as he looked over the docks, he made a decision: ten years. He would live for ten years. He’d find this woman who had haunted all three of those heliobi-induced dreams, and he would find out just why she was so special.
Because there was no way anyone good could ever be that important to a man like him.
... right?
Bonus:
Dan Heng awoke to the softest kiss. His eyes hadn’t even opened, yet he felt himself smiling.
“Good morning, Handsome.”
He hummed, his eyes lazily fluttering open. There, lying across his chest, was Stelle. His wife.
His heart warmed. His wife.
“Good morning, Starlight.”
Like a blazing star, she beamed. “Rare are the mornings I have to wake you up.”
True. But the bed was too warm, too comfortable, and too full of all his treasures in this life for him to want to stir.
She sat up, straddling his bare chest. His shirt, an old one with a badly stretched-out collar, hung off her shoulder, revealing a few marks that spoke of last night’s activities. “Much as I’d like to stay here with you,” she said. “It’s our turn to make breakfast.”
He laid his hands on her knees, bare due to her lack of pants, only to be hit with an odd sense of déjà vu that he just couldn’t place. His brow furrowed, trying to nail down this strangely fleeting feeling, one that danced around his gut like a fickle spirit.
Stelle’s expression fell. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah,” he dismissed, still trying to catch that feeling.
“You sure?”
“It’s not anything worth—”
“Dan Heng.”
Right. She didn’t like him dismissing himself so easily. She wanted to be his support pillar, his soft space to land, the hand who would shoulder his burdens with him. And he relished it far more than he should. He’d gotten much better about sharing things with her, but not everything. Such as these odd little sensations that, in his opinion, weren’t even worth mentioning. “My head just feels a little fuzzy. That’s all.”
She laid a tender hand on his head, that oddly familiar feeling clawing his body. It wasn’t like this action was new by any stretch of the imagination, but why did it feel so strange today? Like... like he was reliving a moment from the past.
Then a cheeky little grin ticked up the corners of her lips. “Did I blow your mind last night?”
She did, but this woman didn’t need nighttime activities to do that. She had a habit of making him wonder just what he did in life to deserve her, and more than once had he stared at her in awe that she was his wife. “You know the answer to that.”
She giggled. “I do.” After giving him a light kiss, she scrambled out of bed, stretching to the sky in a way that lifted the hem of his old shirt.
He didn’t bother to hide his admiration of her legs, ones covered in more little bruises he’d put there last night. She was going to be mad at him, but he could live with that.
“What’s the plan for breakfast?” Stelle asked. “Other than forcing Himeko out of the kitchen.”
An overwhelming urge overtook him, one tainted with that eerie feeling of déjà vu. Maybe he should follow it and see if it would finally spark something in his memory. “Congee?”
Stelle quirked a brow. “Like, the chicken congee? Oh! Can we have it with bacon and those little fried shallot things?”
His stomach panged like he hadn’t eaten in a week. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in ages. Yet, the mention of congee with all the little toppings Stelle would want prepared made him feel like he could inhale two bowls. “I wouldn’t be opposed.”
“That does sound good. Let me get dressed, then we’ll go get started.”
“Take your time.”
“Well, I’ll have to because did you see what some little shit did to my legs last night?”
He chuckled. But so did something far behind him.
He whipped around, swearing he saw a little green flickering flame.
“Dan Heng?”
He shook his head. “I thought I saw something. Must have been my imagination.”
“Weren’t we supposed to pass the star system known for heliobi activity?”
That’s right, Pom-pom had mentioned that. “I’m sure that’s why. Nevermind me.” After all, he knew better than to fall for the tricks of a heliobi.