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hua wakes to a mirror world.
it is shattered and fragmented, spilling diamond dust over the endless void of the skies and the ground. all around her, segments of a memory washed away by the river of time plays like a broken vinyl record – and then it all cracks and fades to black.
this is the eighth divine key. fenghuang down.
“what? you’re here, too?”
hua looks up.
the tranquil air turns hostile and violent, sparking with bursts of fire that pop and crackle like an angry fireshower. the herscherr of sentience stands across her, and it feels like a fight will break out at any moment from the way she stands, hands gripping the weapons by her side like she wants to break them.
but the herscherr’s eyes are red, scratched raw and left to bleed. glassy like smoke and dark like the shadow wisps curling beneath her clenched fingertips. it is not in hua’s nature to hesitate, but something about the vulnerable anger the herscherr is clinging onto makes her want to reach out and hold out her hand.
but that is being presumptuous. hua cannot hold her hand out and the herscherr will never accept help from her, of all people.
she turns around.
“where are you going?” hua asks.
“none of your business,” she spits, on the verge of hysterics. she is barely restraining herself. “i’m going somewhere far away from you.”
and then she leaves, and hua watches her back grow smaller, consumed by the whispers of her past. she stands there, quiet, waiting, but she doesn’t need to wait long. heavy stomps sound from the distance, and when she looks back up again, the herscherr is back to where she started, a curse spilled harshly from her red lips.
she turns around again to leave, but it is no use. she always comes back here.
it is quiet.
hua opens her eyes. inside this world of dreams, it’s easy to lose track of time. they could have been here for a minute or a thousand years, and neither of them will notice a thing. there is only the two of them and the endless echoes of scenes from the past to keep her company.
the herscherr is quiet.
hua peeks at her from time to time. she’s sitting as far away from hua as possible, curled into herself like a babe. sometimes, the mist from the shimmered light touches her and sheds an ephemeral glow over the edges of her crown, and she starts to look like a dream, but hua can’t walk up to her to check for herself, anyway, so there’s no use dwelling upon it.
she places her hands on her knees, and sighs.
sometimes, she wishes she hadn’t been so harsh towards her. perhaps she deemed it necessary back then, but inside this feather, she has nothing but time: time to think, time to reflect, and time to regret.
perhaps she could have been kinder to this herscherr that was born from her own body. this poor soul that fell into the trappings of her legacy. but hua can’t change the past, anyway, so there’s no use dwelling upon this, either.
“ugh, dammit!”
the words reflect against the mirrored walls and echo between them infinitely. hua glances at the herscherr in surprise. the overflowing storm within her eyes has calmed into a brilliant sunset painting, sparked with fire and forged with gold. she looks more annoyed than angry now.
“hey, old timer,” she snaps irritably, all empty grandiose and the bright embers of a dying blaze. “if you want to talk to me, just go ahead and do it!”
she is so lively, hua thinks.
“i didn’t know how you would react if i approached you.” she pauses, shifts, and turns to face her completely. “how did you know i wanted to talk to you?”
“what, don’t tell me you forgot already,” she mocks, and points to her head. sarcasm overflows like honey. “i have all your memories and tendencies here, remember? so, naturally, if you want to talk to me, then I feel the same –”
the herscherr stops in her tracks, and turns around again. “ugh, whatever! shut up already, i don’t want to talk to you!”
hua stares at her back, and sighs. unwittingly, her lips curl into a smile.
“i’m sorry,” she says.
silence. then,
“i’m sorry, too.”
it’s quiet again. but they have both said what they need to say. there’s no need for words anymore.
no. yet.
the herscherr stands up and stretches. hua tilts her head up at her.
“i’m bored,” she says. “i’m going for a walk. what, do you need to chauffeur me everywhere i go now, old timer?”
there’s no need, really, but hua stands up, anyway. the look in the herscherr’s eyes is so deadpan and incredulous that hua almost laughs.
“it’s nice to walk around every once in a while,” she replies, and falls to step beside the herscherr, close enough to be casual, far enough that she won’t overstep any lines. she thinks she might be overthinking this.
the herscherr scoffs and crosses her arms. “whatever. suit yourself.”
there is no start nor end to their journey when they are together. up ahead, the road is frail and ephemeral, flowing through their feet like an unending river that never runs out. the herscherr doesn’t talk and neither does hua, and there is something ironic about this. they are together, but one is lost in her own world, and the other is lost within the washed-out walls of their prison.
the river is ceaseless. there are no words spoken at all, but there is a certain comfort about walking with someone else.
between the fractals of a sweet memory, a hoarse voice whispers.
you. who are you?
hua turns to her reflection, only to find the girl behind staring accusingly at her.
“no mercy for the corrupted,” she says, and shatters into a thousand little pieces. she leaves behind a trail of despair and anguished cries beneath her feet as the flame engulfs the entirety of her body.
phoenix, this is you. a heartless murderer.
hua glances away.
off to the side, there is a girl with a gentle smile. she doesn’t know who she is anymore.
the herscherr stops abruptly. hua turns to her curiously.
she’s looking up. her hair spills off her shoulders and falls regally down her back, scattering flecks of shadow down the ground like leaves on a forest glade. hua traces her gaze, and watches the sky weep red in blood and fire.
she purses her lips.
her disciples. the seven swords of taixuan.
they are like age-old nicks on a rickety kitchen table. barely there, overshadowed by scars and jagged cuts and shaved off corners, but there, and if she traces the edge with a fingertip, memories crest over the back of her mind like a flood.
this is you, phoenix. even if she looks away, traces of the history she left behind haunt her every footstep.
“brats,” the herscherr declares proudly. “all of them.”
hua turns to her in surprise. she is still looking up, a fierce scowl wreathed on her lips, and hua is struck speechless at the molten spite turning her eyes into lava.
“you still think they’re brats?” she asks.
a side-glance. “duh. what else would they be?”
hua looks up again. this is the legacy of a heartless celestial: the tragedy, the burning, the betrayal. her legacy. it has been five hundred years since this has come to pass, however. all she feels is a bone-deep tiredness that has seeped into her very soul.
“i thought you only disliked them because you thought you were me back then.”
the herscherr catches her concerned glance and waves her hand. “yeah, yeah, i know. i’m not you. i’m not obsessed with you, you know?”
that draws a chuckle from her.
“it just doesn’t make sense, even from an outside perspective.” she frowns, and hua is struck by the heady rage her eyes hold – for her. “they’re ungrateful bastards. that’s all there is to it. you took them in and gave them a home and taught them how to fight – and that was how they repay you? ha! if that was me, i would have just killed them all right on the spot. no talking or mercy. how dare they.”
this herscherr . . .
there is an inexplicable sensation in her chest. it’s uncomfortably warm and light, a strange blend of emotions that leave her breathless and vulnerable and raw. this herscherr is on her side, despite their differences in the past, despite acknowledging that she is not fu hua, that she doesn’t have any reason to take hua’s side at all.
ah. she raises her hand to her chest.
it is a lovely feeling.
how do you learn someone?
walking alongside the herscherr brought with it the embarrassing realization that while the herscherr knows everything there is to know about hua, hua knows nothing about her at all. she is a herscherr, she is someone borne from fu hua’s own body and otto’s manipulations: a brilliant, free soul with endless possibilities ahead of her.
a free soul that fu hua has bound herself, both with her legacy, and her divine key.
her companion looks up at her, head tilted like a cat. she has been staring for a while, it seems.
hua looks away in embarrassment.
how do you learn someone?
fu hua has always been horrible at making friends. she doesn’t know where to start. she doesn’t even know what to call her.
“hua,” she says, and the herscherr flinches.
“don’t call me that.” her voice is sharp like a rusted knife, quick to slice hua’s tentative attempt at interaction. and then she softens, and the thunderous tempest brewing beneath her scowl lightens to a gentle rain. “that’s your name, not mine.”
she sounds sad.
“then, what name do you want me to call you by?” hua asks mildly.
the herscherr keeps quiet for a while. light glances off the gold on her glove, and idly, her fingers trace a figure onto the shine.
finally, she speaks, but her voice is subdued and cautious; a far cry from her normal loud and cheery tone. it’s so unnatural to hear her so dull. “i don’t know. just. not that.” she glances up. “you shouldn’t even be letting me use your name in the first place, you idiot old timer.”
a deep sigh. “just call me the herscherr of sentience, since that’s what i am, anyway.”
they return to silence. hua rests her chin on her arms, and studies her companion. dark lashes flutter over her dark eyes, and they highlight the shadows underneath her eyes. she can recognize that look anywhere – she has seen this in the mirror since she was reborn in this era as a celestial.
“you can be anyone you want to be,” she says. the herscherr looks up at her, and hua meets her eyes steadily. “you don’t have to be shackled by my memories nor tied up by your identity as the herscherr of sentience.”
it is an echo of her words from taixuan, but it is fitting, nonetheless.
“you’re saying all this now?” a hollow laugh, but there are flashes of the fight they had long ago; they may have apologized to each other already, but old wounds aren’t healed so easily. “aren’t i just a mistake? a stupid, annoying herscherr that you got roped into dealing with?”
“no,” she says, firmly. “you are not a mistake, nor are you honkai’s enforcer. to be born as a herscherr, and to be born inside this body . . . it’s a burden that was thrust unfairly upon you, yet you never once gave in to the corruption. that’s why, you don’t have to be bound by either me or the honkai. you are free to be yourself, whomever that will be.”
it is quiet for a very long time.
“call me sentience,” she finally says. “or senti. yeah. that one sounds good.”
“senti,” she repeats, and smiles. “it’s a very pretty name. it suits you well.”
senti is sleeping against her shoulder.
hua doesn’t know how or when it happened, but senti is sleeping against her shoulder, snoring lightly as she cuddles against her. she sighs. her shoulder is already sore, and she can’t move at all lest she wakes the sleeping girl up.
she looks so calm and peaceful. the omnipresent light inside the feather bounces off the curve of her cheek and down her jaw, winking with the gold on her throat and creating an angel out of her little smile. unconsciously, hua raises her hand and smooths out her unruly bangs, sweeping them away from her eyes.
her eyes flutter open. hua holds her breath as warm, autumn red roses bloom in her eyes, deep and exhilarating like free-falling from the sky and into the sun’s twilight. a thin veil of haze and something soft like cotton candy flickers in her eyes as she looks around in confusion.
“old timer?” she murmurs, voice thick with sleep. hua touches her cheek and pulls her gently down to her lap.
“i’m here. go back to sleep, little sentience.”
they never talk about it again.
wordlessly, they reach an agreement. senti has started sitting next to hua and leaning on her shoulder when she gets tired, and hua has started calling her xiǎo shí. she never complains about the nickname and hua finds herself looking forward to the times senti would rest against her so she can admire how peaceful she looks when she sleeps.
but they never talk about that either.
“aren’t you worried about how the st. freya girls are doing?”
senti is standing before the academy, tall and resplendent as it was before the battle of shicksal. a ghost of a figure passes by her body like wisps of smoke, and she turns towards them as they laugh and talk about lunch.
hua, on the other hand, has one foot inside this world, and one foot out, and the difference between the memory and their prison is a stark contrast. the sunlight in st. freya is warmer, brighter, and the atmosphere is happier and lighthearted. the threat of honkai is so far away from this idyllic home.
“it's fine,” she says, and senti turns to look at her instead. hua keeps her gaze on the distant shicksal symbol engraved in the walls of the academy. “i’m sure they’re doing well.”
her stare burns through her skin and into her soul. “i can’t believe you’re trying to lie to me, of all people.”
senti steps out of the memory, but hua lingers by the outskirts. there, not quite there. a deep longing crushes her bones into jewel dust and forces her feet to stay grounded inside the illusion. one foot in, one foot out, almost there, barely there; she can almost feel the cool, morning breeze that sweeps through the school as she goes about her daily morning routine.
a sigh. “you should just go, old timer.”
hua looks up in surprise, but senti refuses to look at her. “you’re only staying here because you’re afraid i’ll escape and go berserk, right? well, i’m not sure how much it means to you, but i’ll stay here. whatever. the outside world doesn’t interest me anymore, anyway.”
“i can’t believe you’re trying to lie to me, of all people,” she says. senti scowls at her, and hua cracks a smile.
she turns back to the school.
how funny. the place she came to for a mission became one of her most beloved memories.
if possible, she wants to come back. even if all that remains are broken walls and shattered glass and smoke. even if there is nothing that remains at all.
“all right,” she says, and steps fully away from the memory. it collapses and crashes like a wave coming home to the shore. she holds her hand out to senti. “then, i want you to come with me.”
“huh?”
hua smiles slightly. “i want you to come with me. outside this feather.”
senti crosses her arms. “why? isn’t the whole point of this thing to keep me from wreaking havoc on the outside world? what, don’t tell me you fell in love with me and now you’re gonna risk the world for my sake or some shit, old timer, because that’s cheesy as hell.”
“it’s not that,” she sighs. “you don’t deserve to be imprisoned here for sins you didn’t commit. and besides . . .”
“i don’t want you to be alone here.”
red eyes look longingly at her outstretched hand. she will never say this, but hua knows her, and she knows the primal fear of being alone swirling behind those crimson depths. she can mask it with bravado, but hua knows this feeling far too well to be deceived.
senti laughs. “if you keep saying things like that, i’ll really think you fell in love with me.”
hua ignores her blatant teasing as best as she can. it’s not that hard, because senti is more focused on her hand than on the words she says, and she doesn’t even notice the red tinge on hua’s cheeks. she waits, and waits, and waits, but it’s okay. hua is patient enough to wait a thousand years.
hesitantly, senti takes her hand.
“you better not regret this, old timer,” she says, and her words are outlined with a tone that is both awed and reverent, shivering and drowning in her own disbelief. “there’s no taking it back, all right?”
hua smiles at her. “let’s go back together, xiǎo shí.”