At the end of day—where the afternoon had been spent rebuilding the Water Fountains, the evening spend having dinner together—Yang drew Khai aside. “She won’t disown you,” she said.

Despite himself, Khai gave a breath of relief. His aunt hadn’t returned with Yang to Thon’s tea shop, and the feeling of not knowing where he stood with his aunt had plagued him.

“How did you get that licence?” Khai asked quietly.

Yang gave a mysterious smile. “Favours.”

Khai looked down. “Would it possible...to make real papers in my name?”

Yang gave a slow nod. “It should be. If we could get your aunt’s testimony...in Karashu.”

Khai’s hopes fell. “Okay,” he said in a tiny voice. Shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I can transfer to Four Elements under my girl papers just as well...”

Yang placed a solid hand on Khai’s shoulder. “We will try, don’t worry, Khai. Is there anything else?”

Were you serious about adopting me? But instead, Khai shook his head.

Yang just smiled. “Have a safe trip home.”

*

Quy sat in front of the fire pit. It was night, the flames were the only source of light.

A money-silenced healer had attended to Quy’s burns. But those wounds were paltry compared to the wound on Quy’s spirit.

He had lost.

Somehow, from the moment Quy had seen Khai, he had underestimated him. Failed to correctly assess Khai’s motivations and power.

And so he had lost.

He couldn’t be Lord Quyen’s son.

“Quy. Dinner?” came Shima’s voice from behind him.

“I will attend to it when I’m hungry.”

The sound of Shima’s sigh. Quy tensed when Shima stepped around to face him. Shima’s face was grave.

“You are rarely prone to quick violence,” he said.

Quy flinched and averted his gaze.

“And I have lost my honour since you got injured.”

“It was not your fight, Shima. Your honour remains.” Quy sighed. “There is an open letter on my desk. I give you permission to read it.”

A short while later, Shima returned. And took the seat right next to Quy, instead of the one across the fire.

Quy shifted away.

“You should have sent me to ask Khai for his aid.”

Quy jerked, stared at Shima. “Why?”

“I would have protected you from any rejection. However, you do not understand Khai’s nature,” Shima said gravely. “He thanks me when I cook. He helps others without coin in return. Despite your shadowed beginnings, he would have helped you without condition.”

Quy snorted derisively. “Then he’s stupid. He would never last in court.”

“He has never been in court,” Shima allowed. “But he has other qualities, and connections, that would help him survive if he ever entered. However, it is unlikely he would ever.”

Quy rolled his eyes. “And will he help now? I could offer him gold, but he had even returned over half of what I had given him in the first place.”

“There are those who find pleasure in helping,” Shima said. “Uncommon in the court, but Khai is in the right class and with enough power that he can afford to do so. Not everyone thinks like you.”

Quy curled his lip and sat up straighter. “Of course not.”

“And not everyone requires the same motivation.”

Shima met his gaze.

Quy did not let himself look away. “Then why do you help? I may pay you a wage, but you barely have time to use it.”

“You had the greatest potential for growth. For something different. Could you blame me for following your flame?”

“Han doesn’t.”

Shima had a knowing smile. “Han has additional reasons for preferring Khai over you. Quy. Khai could never replace you.” Shima’s expression became serious. “And you could never replace him. But you can work together.”

“He’s a commoner.”

“All nobles were once commoners. And in the far future, they might be so again.”

Quy scowled, raising a hand to his eyes. “Let me think.”

“Dinner will be waiting for you. And I will follow.”

Quy’s throat threaten to close up as he forced the next words out. “Shima...thank you.”

Shima inhaled a little sharply. “...You’re welcome.”

*

Song knew he was being stupid, waiting outside Immin University once again. How many times had Mai passed him by? Ginzan was busy talking with the other students.

Mai’s magic tugged at Song’s senses. His eyes narrowed in on her. She ignored him, once again.

Defeated, Song started back. Maybe he’d try asking Han again. But there had been something odd going on between Han and Quy at Baashi for the last few days.

“What do you want?”

Song jerked back at the gold eyes.

“Song, stop coming to Immin,” Mai hissed.

“Mai. I just wanted to...talk. I still want to get to know you.”

Mai gave him a flat look. “We’ll do that when you call me by the right name, Khai.” She grabbed his robes and tugged him closer. “We’ll do that when you realise that I was never Mai, even back then. And when you’re ready...talk to Han. And ask to come with him.”

With that, she threw him back and strode away.

“Her?” Ginzan threw an arm around Song. “She’s a little mannish.”

Song shoved him off—Ginzan just floated and landed a distance away.

*

The next day, Song swallowed his pride and went up to Han as he was leaving Baashi.

Han gave him a suspicious look. “Khai warned me about you.”

Song closed his eyes briefly, recalling rehearsed words. He didn’t have to understand or believe them to say them. “Yes. I want to speak to Khai...and learn more about him.”

Han’s stance eased up. “Very well. We meet at Thon’s tea shop.”

The place was unknown to Song: not a famous tea shop. Nonetheless, he followed Han down to the lower districts.

The houses were shabby, but they looked like they had been newly fixed; and mage fire lights started to glow as the sun’s rays dimmed, with winter approaching.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Kiri,” Han called out to an old non-mage sitting outside a tea shop.

“Another friend?” Kiri said, pining Song with a look.

Song bowed formally. “Of...Khai’s.”

“This is Song, son of Colonel Maru,” Han said. “He goes to Baashi. And he thinks he knew Khai when they were at some orphanage together.”

Song darted him a glance. How much had...Khai told Han about their past?

Kiri leaned back in his chair. “Take a seat, Young Song,” he said. “Oi! Thon! Fetch me some tea for a new guest!”

“Ugh, fine, old man!” came a shout from inside the shop.

Han grinned at Mr Kiri. “I should have known,” he said, slipping into a chair next to Kiri.

Song took the chair furthest from Kiri. “Yes. Imagine my surprise to see Khai...here in Taesu instead of our home town.”

“And what are your intentions with Healer Khai?” Kiri added, hidden steel in his words.

Does he know Mai’s past?

“To reconnect,” Song said shortly. “This is between me and her—him.”

Han stiffened and glared at him.

Song winced. The moment he had thought of Khai as Mai, the her had just slipped out. And if he slipped up in front of Mai herself—himself—

Not good.

“Well, here he is,” Han said abruptly, standing up. “Khai! Good afternoon!”

Khai was walking down the street, gold eyes without the danger as he looked at Han. Those eyes tightened when they landed on Song.

Song got to his feet as well. “Good afternoon, Khai.”

Khai glanced at Han, and then looked back at Song again. “Good afternoon, Song.”

“More mages from Baashi?” a young man complained, emerging out of the tea shop with a tray.

“Be polite, Thon,” Kiri chided.

“I’ll be when you are, old man,” Thon retorted. He placed the tray on the table and served tea. “Here you are, old man.”

Song leaned closer to Khai as Khai approached the table. “I would prefer to speak with you privately.”

“Anything that I want to share can be done in front of Han and Mr. Kiri,” Khai said firmly.

And so, it was with careful words that Song asked what Khai was doing down in the districts, how he learnt healing, how he learnt fighting.

He’s really not who I thought she was, Song slowly realised, as Khai spoke of the training he had done with a mage instructor, as he spoke of combing healing patterns of magic to combat, and the reverse.

The orphanage had been long ago, almost two decades. Back then, no one had known that Mai was a mage. The current day was far removed from the past, where Song had to protect Mai from older, bigger bullies. And that wasn’t something he could reconnect with Khai about. Back then, they had been friends of circumstance alone.

What would it be like if I knew that I was a man, and yet everyone kept arguing otherwise?

And yet, Khai had lived that. His entire life, until he came to Taesu.

“Thank you for your company,” Song said, when Khai finished. “But I should get going, rather than delay your task down here, Healer Khai.”

“You didn’t speak of yourself,” Khai said. “Will there be a next time?”

Song got to his feet. “I hope so.”

Khai nodded, giving his permission. “You now know where to find me.”

Song nodded, and found himself smiling when Khai smiled.

“Good. We’ll be here,” Khai said.

“Do you often make friends with people you defeat in battle?” Han mumbled.

Khai laughed, a bright sound. “No, I don’t think so,” he said to Han, grinning. His face calmed down when he looked back at Song.

In the intervening weeks, Khai had become even closer to Han than they had been at Baashi. Song was an old, forgotten acquaintance just made anew. But maybe in the future, they would be good friends.

“All the best,” Song said sincerely. “Until next time.” And he departed, lighter in his steps.

*

“And if they strike me on sight?” Quy muttered.

“If you appear at Khai’s apartment, he would do more than that,” Shima said reasonably.

Quy took a deep breath. “I know.”

He was approaching Khai when he was in company of two earth mages for a reason. To show that he was not here to fight.

Quy took another breath, and calmed his fire. The rougher-than-usual clothing chafed him. But for good cause.

He stepped out onto the main street. “Good afternoon, Healer Mage Khai,” he called out. Shima followed a step after.

Khai was already turning. His hands spread out.

Quy stopped.

“...Good afternoon, Mage Quy, Swordsman Shima.”

Quy took a deep breath, and forced his flames lower. He inclined his head. “I came requesting your assistance, Mage Khai.”

Khai slowly walked towards him. “What of it?” His eyes scanned over Quy’s body. “...I’m glad you’re healed.”

Quy sucked in a breath at Khai’s honest tone. “I dueled you because...I needed your help.”

Khai raised his eyebrows. “Fighting practice?”

Quy’s eyes dipped down.

No! If I ask him, I need to do so with conviction. Quy straightened and looked Khai straight in the eye. “I need to learn how to create lava and manipulate it. And you are the only one I know who can do so.”

“There are spells. If you search Baashi’s library—” Khai started, frowning a little.

“And what long-worded spells do you use?” Quy said sharply.

Unexpectedly, a faint smile came across Khai’s face. “It is an adapted healing technique.”

Han strode up to Khai’s side. “This is the first I’ve heard of this,” he said, levelling a surprisingly steady gaze at Quy, instead of quaking in his boots. “Why?”

Under the protection of Khai’s fire.

“My reasons are not to be spoken in such a public forum,” Quy said, flashing a dark look at Han, just to see him quail, a little.

Heh. I still have it.

Khai stepped closer and closer towards Quy until they stood face to face. Looking at Khai this close made Quy’s brain hurt, like seeing a mirror un-reversed image of himself.

Khai’s voice was quiet like embers. “Is this about the disruption in your fire? I sensed it, when we fought. There is something troubling you.”

Through years of practice, Quy didn’t flinch. Through seeing Shima in the corner of his eye, Quy didn’t immediately deny Khai’s accusation.

Not accusation. Think of him...as a too-aware healer.

“Will you help me?” he asked instead.

“Yes. Will you tell me why?”

Quy gave him a dry look. “It is due to something you did at Baashi. My father heard of your ability to create lava where there was none. He wishes for a demonstration...this Saturday.”

“You didn’t choose your father. Just as I didn’t choose my aunt,” Khai said.

Quy remained silent.

“Saturday...that’s hardly enough time. But then, you are strong. Magical reserves will not be a problem.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “There is healing that I need to catch up on.” Gold eyes flickered to him. “It would be good for you to watch how the technique works before it’s adapted to things not alive.”

At that, Quy inclined his head, acceding. “Very well.”

*

Quy struggled not to speak out.

“In most healing, the body knows what to do, and it knows what it was before the injury, the sickness,” Khai was saying as his hands moved magic through the patient. “A Healer Mage reminds the body of what it once was, nudging it to return to a healthy state faster.”

Khai’s magic seemed to move through the patient in pulses, like that of the heartbeat.

Khai shot Quy a look. “Go outside, take some fresh air.”

Quy smoothly rose to his feet and did just that. A few minutes later, Khai emerged, and silently, the two of them headed to an abandoned rocky square.

“Calling lava is the same,” Khai said, moving in stance. “The earth here was once, long ago, inside the earth. The earth here knows lava, knows the magma from which it came. To create lava, you remind the earth of what it once was...and you help it along by applying sufficient heat to make it so.”

Quy followed Khai’s form, reaching out with his magic.

“Go deep,” Khai said quietly. “Go down to the magma. If you know what that feels like, it is easier to remind the earth on the surface.”

“Why don’t you just call that magma up?” Quy said.

Khai blinked. “Time, for one,” he said, frowning. “Magma lives far below the surface. In a combat situation, there is not time for the movement of liquid fire earth from so far away.”

“Then, have it near the surface and ready.”

“For an eruption? For an earthquake? You’d have to constantly maintain it, or only have it on hand for scheduled duels.”

Quy’s lips tightened, and he bowed his head, conceding. He calmed down his magic and tried again, feeling the fire-that-is-magma, and then comparing it with the sense of the dead rocks around him.

But the most he could feel of the rocks was the warmth from the sun, not some aeons-old once-was-lava.

Annoyed, Quy slashed down fire. What little plants burnt to cinders.

“We have hardly started,” Khai said.

“If these rocks were ever once lava, well, they don’t remember it!” Quy said sharply. He shot out a stream of flame at a rock, ramping up the heat. “Why won’t it just melt?”

“I always form the lava underground first,” Khai said. With a swept of his hands, Quy’s fire dissipated, leaving a solid cherry-red-glowing rock. “The lava needs a measure of pressure to form. However...”

“What?” he snapped. A beat later, Quy remembered that Khai was here to help him. But he wouldn’t apologise.

“In most healing, the body remembers.”

Quy shifted his stance a little away. “So you said...”

Khai’s eyes glinted, a grin at the corner of his mouth. “And what if it doesn’t remember? In that case, we enforce a pattern of health that we know. Quy, study thoroughly how the lava beneath the earth moves. How the fire in that rock moves. And then, use your magic and your will to impose that pattern upon the earth in the sunlight. Perhaps you are more suited to a more direct fight.”

Quy snorted. “Of course. I’m a combat mage.” He found a nice flat surface and sat down. And cast his magic down into the ground.

*

Having another fire mage around was pleasant, Khai had to admit, as he kept one eye on Quy. Their magic hummed with the same sparking, the same flicker of safe-and-dangerous.

Personally, Khai was feeling pretty pleased with himself for coming up with a second method to create lava, though he would have to test it personally to see which one was faster, and which was suited to different types of earth.

Quy’s eyes opened. “I’m ready.”

Khai gave a small smile. “Then let’s begin.”

*

Quy stood stiffly in ceremonial clothing. Shima was a few paces backed, dressed in more muted clothing.

Saturday, and Lord Quyen, had come too quickly, but Quy had trained hard with Khai for the last few days, first with lava, and then with the moves of the presentation itself. He knew he could do it.

He kept his breath even as he greeted Lord Quyen, and the Prince that his father was accompanying.

Paradoxically, he felt better when his display begun, as he moved through the forms, of bladed weapons of fire, to the creation of lava, to the manipulation of lava as he slashed his swords.

He did know what he was doing. Khai had helped him. And Quy knew that he himself was a more than capable fire mage.

And with an exhale, Quy let his weapons fade in sparks, and the earth return as though it was never lava in the first place.

Polite clapping came from around him. The prince beckoned from his special seating area, and so Quy stepped forward.

“Truly wondrous,” the prince said. “I would hope to see you in the Capital City in the near future. Perhaps in an internship, as your brother.”

Quy bowed. “Thank you, your highness.”

“A good display, my son,” Lord Quyen said, expression barely changing.

Despite that, a happiness spread across Quy’s chest. He bowed again. “Thank you, Father.”

With that, Quy headed off the main stage, to a private area. He let out his breath in a rush. He composed his face again when he heard footsteps.

“Quy,” Shima said. “That was very good. You are one of the are fire mages who handles fire directly. And of them, the only who can call lava in your manoeuvres. You have put me out of a job,” he added, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Quy’s mouth dropped open. Oh. The happiness and satisfaction from Shima’s words, from Shima’s direct gaze, looking at him, Quy, not at second-son-of-mine the way Lord Quyen had looked.

“Thank you.” Deep breath. “I should tell Khai...and thank him for his help once again.”

And Shima smiled.