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.

*