my heartlight. that's what could have been. . .
— @kiguard
There is a universe somewhere, he is certain, where that is what they are to each other.
Some life where they do not choose to follow opposite paths, but rather brave the path hand in hand, no matter where it takes. Some version of reality where he gives Shen the chance to make his own choice, no secrets nor deception; and where Shen, in turn, chooses him.
It is not an ideal world, truth be told. Not if it gets to that point. There are reasons behind his choices, even the secrets and deception, and to let his dearest friend stain his hands and forgo his duty would have been a selfish act, done for himself alone, to soothe the overwhelming affection and unending grief their parting brought. Possessive, in a way; wanting nothing more than to keep Shen with him, his, regardless of consequence.
Of course, Zed could never do it in reality; it simply wasn't who he was.
There is scarcely a moment of respite, time to be wasted in idle fantasizing, but even the Master of Shadows cannot control his every thought. There may not be elaborate daydreams of a perfect world, but when the longing gets the best of him, there are glimpses: them, together, finding the laughter that so often eluded them after years hunting the Golden Demon; the temple not taken but shared, their ways not opposite but merged into a single path, not as harsh as this one, not as oblivious as that of the Kinkou, a middle ground crafted together; moments of quiet, with the peace Zed had only ever known because of the only man to treat him as an equal from the start.
A life where my heartlight would have been easily offered, honey-sweet, the only apt word to describe the entirety of what Shen meant to him; where it would have been returned, embraced, accepted, cherished, really, because there is no reality in which it would not leave him in awe, where hearing it may become commonplace and ordinary, as if love could ever be so.
Countless times, the damned longing almost causes him to falter. Zed despairs with it, the desire to bring to light the truth, even if it would not absolve him. It feels like a more merciful life than this, standing before the Eye of Twilight and baring his sins, the reasoning behind them, and kneeling before him to subject to his justice, to the bite of his blade (who would have more right to his life than him?). A mercy he does not deserve, when it would cause Shen so much pain; best to bear it on his own, to make it his burden, to shove down the yearning that makes him so weak that the thought would be entertained at all.
What possibilities there were (what could have — should have — been), he chose his path long ago. Honor compelled him to keep his secrets, surely enough, but it was more than that: his own happiness is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Better to allow Shen a chance at it, or at least peace of mind, despite him assuming a mantle he never wanted but was only ever suited to him. Better that Zed refrains from feelings that could so easily cause him to stray from the only route there was for him to follow, a life that was and should be for Ionia before it was for himself. It was what the First Lands needed: his darkness and Shen's light, a balance of sorts on its own.
But there is a universe somewhere, he is certain, where they are each other's heartlights.
