LU 295 - Laozi 3

The fog is thick as Zi lands at Edelle’s door, ever encroaching on the space the glow of their gem once kept clear. He approaches hesitantly, knocking on the door before backing up to the opposite rail as someone calls from inside.
Edelle opens the door, letting Zi in while she collects their robes. A heavy stiffness of being unacquainted hangs between the two as they speak, discussing their feelings of isolation.
Dizziness and exhaustion seem to wash over the bird as silence falls upon the apartment, the glow of gemstone above their head dimming in response, and realization begins to seep in that he may not overcome this fog like he has in the past. 
And in that moment of actualization, Zi is afraid.
Stripped of his rank and so far from home, no one is left to mourn them when they fall. He will die with no heir, no honor, and alone, but perhaps this is what they deserve.
Edelle returns with a glass of water, wishing the condor well, but it is clear other matters occupy her, and Zi doesn’t wish to interrupt. Their lives were not meant to intersect in this way; if only he got here, to this town, sooner.
They bid each other farewell, and Zi disappears into the fog, only to fall, unheard, a few moments later. 
With only their regrets, the light in his gem wanes with every labored breath until there is nothing but a dim flicker left in Zi’s soul.
When the bird dies, no one cries for their life or the life of a lost scholar. Perhaps Zi will return to his mate, and he will not be cold or lonely anymore.