Solstice Souls

Of Swords and Other Blades

Lan Zhan POV

His dancer was mad.

There was no other word for it. Mad for life, mad for living, and mad with risks.

He had paused at the end of his dancing performance, and Lan Zhan felt exhilarated just watching his body move and bend. But then, just as he thought it was all over, his dancer turned around to look him straight in the eyes.

"For you." He mouthed, silver eyes sparkling with unabashed amusement.

And then he winked.

Lan Zhan's heart took off like an arrow, spinning out of control in a blaze of desire and need. Sweat beaded at his temple, but he dared not blink, because instinct told him his dancer was going to do something extraordinary.

He was not wrong.

The other two dancers stood back and let him take centre stage. Now the music took on a sultry tone, it's beat as intense as a slow heartbeat.

Mo Xuanyu paid respect to the sword, using his two fingers to trace its short length, and then in a carefully timed cartwheel, he balanced it on his neck, whirling in time to the music, and such was his grace and precision, that the sharpness of the blade that could slice his jugular merely floated a hair's breadth away from killing him. His hands joined in a fluid motion, balancing the weapon on his shoulders, across his back and into his hands again without pausing once. He bent over backwards with the blade skimming so close to his neck, Lan Zhan dared not breathe.

There were gasps from the crowd as the music faded, but Lan Zhan could not tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him, as dread curled in the pit of his stomach, cold and heavy.

Mo Xuanyu licked the cold blade from root to tip, relishing the screams from the crowd, pure excitement lighting up his face. He stood in a side profile so Lan Zhan had a direct view of what he was about to do.

Lan Zhan's mind had somehow grasped it before his eyes had understood what he was about to witness, and already, it was lost in a scream of denial.

The beautiful, reckless silver-eyed man placed the sword to his lips and swallowed it, his teeth resting against the hilt.

Lan Zhan's blood ran cold. Then hot.

He imagined those lips wrapped around something else.

The crowd erupted, with shouts and clapping, surging forward, held back only by the other two dancers.

With style and finesse, Mo Xuanyu removed the deadly weapon and threw it back to its owner, and then he bowed with a flourish. Turning slightly, he caught Lan Zhan's eyes once more, and with a cheeky grin, he blew him a kiss.

The gesture seemed familiar but Lan Zhan had no time to think about that now, because the object of his fascination was held aloft by the men standing around watching him. They carried him away, and Lan Zhan was struck with a shocking sense of disappointment, as if all the colour from his life had bled away, leaving him surrounded by black and white hues.

Heart heavy with loss and regret, Lan Zhan wished for more time with his dancer, but he knew that chance was gone now. Perhaps they would never meet again...and that thought alone caused a fissure in his heart.

He turned to leave, but a soft hand on his arm stopped him. Politeness ingrained from a young age had him bowing first, when he saw that it was a simply dressed lady. He had the fleeting thought of wondering why she would want to talk to him, when she spoke.

"I saw you watching the performance from over there." She gestured vaguely behind herself. Her silver eyes twinkled kindly.

Lan Zhan liked her voice. It was soothing and melodious, and he found himself relaxing against his will.